The sun was sinking on the trees of the east bracillian forest. Not long now before it would be consumed with the nights darkness, with the acceptance of the moons milky coated shine. A white paw juts out from underneath the braken, as it cautions the familiar territory.
Its safe.
Krinkle, rustle, scratch. The bush strains as its forced to open for its occupants departure. A shadow formed on the moon basked floor as Hawke stepped out into the night air, his densly shaded pelt thick with the new winters frost.
A low emitted growl emites from the distance.
Hawke's fur rose on end. He was used to these disturbances. Ever since the darkspawn started spewing from the underground passage, there wasnt much time for rest these days. Ah, the darkspawn. Hawke knows them well. Fearsome, corrupted creatures. They would attack everyone and everything but their own. Almost as if mechanically. We're they recieving commands? Had the archdemon returned? Hawke couldnt be certain. He hadn't had the dreaded dreams of a Grey Warden. Not yet.
An unhuman scream howls closer than the last.
He should move quickly less he wanted to face another inconvienient battle. Crunch, crunch. The snow crushes underneath his paws as he walks down the makeshift pathway. He is heading towards Kirkwall, or so he hopes, he cant be sure. He cant smell anymore, and the taint in his blood blurred the edges of his vision. Everything seemed so surreal, as if a dream.
He paused.
Was he dreaming?
He starts to consider the thought more, but is interrupted. A low, grumble emits from a Hurlock, barely a few feet from his face.
His eyes widen. Why didnt he sense it? His mind drifts back to his transformation to a Grey Warden. They made him drink the wretched blood of those creatures. But for what cause? To kill the archdemon if it returned? Being able to sense the Darkspawn from a ranged distance? Did that make up for the consequences of dying before you've lived a life, suffering the dreams that make you want to rather die than suffer another moment of it?
The memory lasted only a fraction of a second. He couldn't afford to hesitate now. Before the Darkspawn could charge, Hawke leaped forward, his hindpaws whisking the cold gravel around in a whirl. As he jumped past the side of the creature, he used his foreclaw to rake its side before landing opposite it with a spin, facing his opponite with teeth bared. The Hurlock recoiled for a moment, before reaching back, and striking down forcefully with a rusted sword onto Hawke, the same moment Hawke charged back. The weapon glazed his shoulder as Hawke latched his fangs onto the Hurlocks arm, tearing the flimsy flesh away from the makeshift body. He threw the limb to the side before thrusting back into the battle. He finished off the Spawn easily enough after that, the killing blow being a dismantled head.
Panting, he glanced about before padding towards a clearing in the road, between a few bushes grown in a semi- circle. He began tending to his shoulder, which only suffered partial breaking of the skin. After he was sure the bleeding stopped, he flexed his body before lying down to attempt rest for a bit, not quite awake, and not quite sleeping. He had to have some wits about him if his powers were going to fail him in his moment of need.
Suddenly, he sat up, alert more than ever. He felt the groggy sense of his Darkspawn dectecting powers. They were near. And as far as he could tell, alot of them. He stood up quicky, less he wanted to face a small war by himself. As soon as he got to his paws, he faced the dreaded thought. He was too late.
He crawled into the shelter of the bushes, crouching low, his belly scraping the ground. Holding his breath, he waited anxiously as the hoard approached.
Their screeches, and yowls sounded out as the called out to one another, stomping past his hiding place scattered about in a large group. His fur lie flat again on his neck as it seemed non of them detected his presence. As the last few of the group, which seemed to be the last of approximatly thirty spawn, Hawke started to crawl back out, but hurridly backtracked in again.
His heart pounded as the ground began to shake. He heard the thumps of bodies, and caterwauls of hurlocks and genlocks as they were tossed around. But by what?
He let out a surprised yelp as a Genlock slammed onto the ground in front of him. He peered out. Dead. As he looked up, his eyes widened with surprise as he stared into the face of a monster he never had the displeasure of encountering before. An ogre.
The beast bellowed out a foul roar into Hawke's face, and Hawke yelped, terrified, as the orge dragged his body from the dried out shrub, and raised him until they were face to face, much closer this time.
As his body trembled between the interlocking fingers that threatened to crush his whole body with one squeeze, the ogre opened his mouth, revealing rows of jagged, discolored fangs, and a fat, phlem coated tounge.
Hawke knew what was coming. The ogre was going to eat him alive. As he could do nothing but watch his life end, he shut his eyes and sent out a message to the All Maker. May his soul rest by the Makers side. No, Hawke shoved that thought away. No warrior deserved to serve at the makers side with this shameful death.
His eyes still closed, he felt the hot sticky breath on his fur, as his body was drawn halfway into the unforgiving tunnel. As saliva seeped into his coat, he accepted his death note.
But what was this? Suddenly he felt his body falling, falling through the air, and with a thump, his body landed in a clump on the ground. Wincing, he opened his eyes to see a fury of bodies, dogs, darting in between the ogres legs, snapping at them with force, drawing blood. As the ogre and canines fought, Hawke lost conciencness, the wounds he recieved too much to handle to stay awake.
His eyelids felt heavy as he raised them. Where was he? His eyes shut again as he remembered last he was at the jaws of an ogre. Was he dead? The throbbing pain in his head sure felt like it. His eyes opened again.
Hawke's eyes trailed around his surroundings. Head pounding, he wondered where he was. As he tried to move, a voice hissed in his ear, warning him not to move again.
His eyes opened wider. He was alert now. Did he just hear a voice? A female by the sound of it. He turned his head partially to look in the face of another canine. A slim face greeted his, with a toothy, lopsided grin.
"You're awake!"