The only thing that filled her vision besides the white pain that now attacked her entire system was a pair of sadistic, laughing eyes that gazed down at her mockingly. A hood cast a dark shadow across the man's eyes, giving them a strange but terrifying glow because of the angle his head was tipped. She wanted to spit every insult her creative mind could conjure, to show this beast that she was not their weak prey, as he and his partner surely thought, but she couldn't and it horrified her. Only moments ago she had been screeching and kicking, but she was quickly growing weak, the world fading black as she passed into unconsciousness, and whatever this glowing-eyed man's partner had done to her throat had made her choke and sputter and go silent, as much as she meekly struggled and rasped for words. That dark, mocking chuckle grew at her fear struck eyes, and was the last thing the young girl heard before passing out atop the wooden operation table her form had been sprawled across.
1 Year Later
"Calendre," he purred. She stirred a little at her name. "Calendre, we need to go." This time he was a bit more firm and he added a quick squeeze to her shoulder. He watched with a smile when her eyes fluttered open. She looked utterly exhausted. She had dark circles under her eyes and she looked slightly dazed. Although, that was likely Lupo's fault. His smile turned into a smirk. Calendre scowled at him and stretched languidly across the bed. The young templar crawled away from Il Lupo and sauntered towards the long mirror that leaned in the corner. She let out a little sigh, and her hand traveled up to her soft, now bruised lips to gently brush there.
Lupo watched with mild curiosity. She was glorious. It was months before he finally realized how womanly her figure was. It didn't take long after that for him to understand that she was not simply pretty; she was captivating. Her eyes were a warm olive color and her jaw was strong and angled which, with her feminine cheeks and nose, created a lovely visage. Her lips were always a rosy pink, though sometimes chapped from neglect. Even then, he very much enjoyed watching her tongue glide across them in a subconscious attempt at moistening them. The wolf's eyes strayed from her lips to her hair, which was glaring in the morning sun, then down to her resplendent body. God, he wanted to take her. He wanted to ravish her and make her scream those silent screams again. However, he could not. Not now. They had business that desperately needed to be attended to. He had been assigned to train her as a "learning experience" for himself, and at first, the wolf had been furious to have been tied to an "inexperienced child" but he quickly saw her talent. After that, it didn't take him long to grow attached to her, though her spectacular body helped. Their relationship had been strictly forbidden by Fiora, and he had tried to resist catering to his needs, but he found himself unable to pull away from her. She was absolutely wonderous, both her steady, strong flame of a personality and her masterpiece of a body. So, their strange relationship existed in secret, for that was the only way it could be right now if he wanted to keep one of his most valuable appendages. After she was no longer a student and instead a colleague, perhaps it could be more, but for now, this was the only option.
"Get dressed. We're supposed to be on the way to the docks right now." She turned to give him look of expectation.
"Please?" He said it with a sneer. The only reason she enjoyed making him say things like that is because she loved it when he reaped revenge the following night, leaving her sore and marked in the morning. The wolf stood and collected their clothing from the floor, tossing Calendre her things as he plucked them up. She was already tying her finishing sash around her waist with deft fingers by the time he was pulling on his trousers. He hurried himself, and after they were completely dressed, they both made their way down to the shipping yard.
...
Calendre examined the sprawling activity below them. She was searching for their target, a merchant by the name of Angelo Moretti, but she couldn't help but let her eyes wander over all of the interesting characters she saw on the docks. She had always seen merchants as one of the most interesting segments of society. They always had such fascinating mannerisms. They were all different from anything seen deeper in the city, and even different from each other. All of them had been to far away places and met strange people. They had picked up a colorful array of items and habits that added up to a body of people that couldn't help but draw the curious eye. She often found herself slightly envious of their travels.
The girl pulled her eyes from a man that was flaunting strange pottery and continued her search. When her eyes locked onto a man that was shouting deals at passing citizens and matched the description they'd recieved of Moretti, a grin stretched onto her face. She tipped her head at him, and Il Lupo whispered a "good" in her ear. He stood up straight and moved away from her. Calendre looked at him curiously, and he gave her a little wink before turning and throwing himself from the roof. The girl rolled her eyes, but followed after him. She arched into a graceful swan dive before softly landing in a cart of hay. When she pulled herself from the hay and had mostly shook herself off, her eyes wandered a bit before landing on the target again. She didn't bother looking for Lupo, as she really didn't care where the man had wandered off to. He would usually watch from afar when she was making a kill. She began to stroll leisurely over to the cluster of crates that Moretti's voice was booming from.
Apparently, the merchant had refused any trade with the templars. That in itself had turned the men-on-top bright red, but when an informant had given them a tip about the man selling to a group of assassins, they'd decided they wanted him gone. So, they'd given The Prowler and his little student the job of taking him out and sending a message to the enemy. The Prowler had decided this was the perfect chance to let his little student prove to him her advancement. So, here she was, stalking towards his thrown-together display. Hmm... she thought wistfully. Poison. Definitely Poison. It was far more of an interesting show than the blade was. She stood and pretended to admire the trinkets he had laid out for only a few moments before turning his way to walk away. As she brushed past him, her blade slid into the flesh of his torso. He flinched at the small cut and she continued to stroll away casually, and took her place on a bench to enjoy the show that promised to unfold.
"Poison, hm," a man that had settled next to her mused. She looked at him with grinning eyes, and found that his expression matched her's, except he was focused on the dazed man about 10 meters away.
At first Moretti's eyes just glazed over, and a fog of confusion passed over his face. Then he stumbled back a few steps, as though he had lost his balance and a dirty, calloused hand flew to his head. Then his expression of confusion crunched into one of pain and fury. His limbs started to fly, fighting unseen attackers and citizens were gathered around, all looking either fearful, curious, or both. Moretti was now flailing quite viciously and his stumbling made Calendre believe he would hit the ground any second, but he was still a hurricane of clumsy jabs and punches. Then, as though a switch were hit, the man fell; still flailing slightly. As soon as he hit the ground, he was completely gone. The crowd cleared rather slowly; everyone whispering to each other with large eyes.
"We should clear out before anyone suspects anything." Il Lupo nodded to the guards that had begun to gather around Moretti's corpse. Calendre showed agreement simply by standing.
