Yes, Taveor can speak English, but he prefers German. I don't think this is as good as the first but it's still a build in their relationship-but I don't plan posting in this to be a regular occurrence. Nor is it a proper story, it's mostly just ficbits all tossed together to portray my friend's character [Taveor] and my own character [Darien] interacting. Based off a roleplay.
Once more, thanks to Chew no Kitsune for being so patient as to properly translate. I'd also like to apologize to my subscribers for the false chapter posting. I'm doing an entire revamp of this story as to make it better. Thanks for all of your patience as well.
Interface.
We exchange looks; uneasy, unsettled. I don't fully understand but he obviously recognizes something about our current situation. There are no strongbeasts, nor longtongues, nor the mobpack. Just an endless stretch of road before us surrounded by a vast openness-parched and gray. I could see nothing but sienna hued grasses sprouting from the soiled asphalt, my unclothed feet scalding against the pavement with each blistering step. This was ignored, my ears fluttered about, groping out to catch what had set him on edge. A constant hum of something resonated from behind us but I offered it no attention-not until the prey turns back and clicks his loudstingdeath in preparation.
Now I was focused, cocking a head over my clothed shoulder-these shelters were but tattered rags now and only produced more heat, but when I tried to remove them he caught my arm to shake his head in disapproval. Something was out there, but it smelled nothing of my kind. I inhale deeply but nothing kisses my nostrils, nothing but arid upwind scents of decay for the smells of the cities not beyond reaching out here. Miles away.
"Komm, gib mir dein Hemd. Du musst wie ein Mensch aussehen." [Come on, give me your shirt, you need to look human]." The Prey's voice was taut and strained with something ethereal, it was enough to make my flesh gnarl and crawl. He beckoned me over with the hand free of his weapon and I followed suit. Nervously making my way close enough that I was in arms length. Clumsy digits gripped at the zipper on my shelter and tore it down, my eyes widened. Take shelter? Why? Nonono. Bright hurts. Shelter. Wantwant. Pleasepleaseplease. No take shelter. My head skirled at me to take action against his own but the grave expression he bore kept me from raising arm. A soft whimper is all I offer as it slips off my body and into his hands.
Taking no time he swings the fabric about my waist and turns to my face, scowling uneasily.
"Du bist schmutzig [You're filthy]." His voice is scalding, hitting a note of desperation as turns to rummage in his pack for something. Producing a cloth he takes no heed to warn and simply shoves it to my face. Brash strokes skritch at my cheek, the fabric is coarse. Instinctively I flinch back, a short snarl escaping me.
"Σταματάω! [Stop!]" My throat rasps as I fight the intruding hand. He snaps something fierce and struggles against my altered strength-in the end simply giving up on the effort and going to work on studying me again. I'm not sure what possessed him but he flicked out a finger and brushed it against my anemic skin. Frown deepening he shook his head in some unnamable disappointment.
The louder the thrum became the more antsy he grew. My nerves began to stray, the visceral forces in me want to snarl but I bite my tongue and turn away. Finally he growled something, glancing back at the growing shadow of the beast approaching us and nudges me. Nodding his head to continue he flexes his grip on the loudstingdeath. I remain silent.
""Halt deine Schnauze, Köter!" [Hold your tongue, Dog]." The look he flashes me tells that I must continue this action. The feeling of exposure amplifies when I exchange a glimpse with him, his eyes meeting mine full on rather than simply guessing where they may be. My gut clenches and a whimper gurgles forth. A sharp kick to my thigh is what I receive for this slip. Flashing him a sharp warning glance I flare teeth. He, too, narrows his gaze. Spitting to the side I break the tension, turning away-back to whatever was following us. It was cruising slower now. Watery beams of heat breathed from the asphalt, reminding me that the pads of my feet were scalding.
The lack of shelter offered a kiss of air to my heated skin but I found no comfort in the chilled state. Nudging my Prey I shoulder the direction behind us. Had he not been the one to recognize the potential danger before I? Why was he not shooting-or demanding to run? Confusion prickled my exposed body. I narrow my hypersensitive eyes and snarl again, the light burns my retinas.
""Seh sie nicht an." [Don't look at them]." His voice was commanding, I didn't need to even attempt to translate his words because a moment later he jerked me around and gestured to look forward-at the sun parched highway we now rode. I growl softly at being treated so roughly but stay my irrationality in attacking him. The ground began to tremble under the thrum of the beast that would soon be upon us. It was pronounced enough for my feet to feel it, yet at the same time not that a strongbeast would produce. I swallowed the urge to turn and look at whatever it was.
The light hurts.
"Hey." The voice was unfamiliar. I wrinkle the bridge of my nose, the Prey tightens his hold on the loudstingdeath before he glances over. Keep walking? "Hey kid! I'm talkin' to y'all." My throat clenches at the edge in the man's tone. His words sounded nothing like my human's. They offered no room for consolation, my stomach clenches as my legs want to curl into the ground. I glance over to the Prey but he's not looking at me-his focus is on the stranger. Allowing curiosity to get the best of my diluted conscious I raise my attention. Two men met my sepia hued irises, but they were like no other I've seen in our travels-their hides were protected by something dark though their faces were pale and they sat in the innards of the beasts I often saw abandoned on streets in the city. It must have been a dull rust hue but I didn't pay it much mind.
"What 're you yung'ins doin' all the way out here?" The way their eyes lingered on the backpack my Prey was carrying made my stomach churn. Somewhere in the dormant human half of me I must have been processing this situation properly but not this visceral being I've become. Softly at first my body began growling, warning. Leave. Go away. They must have seen it, a sharp kick collided with my calf to silence me. But the damage had been done.
"He's one 'a them!" The human spat, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. My Prey hissed something angry in my direction and frowned at the strangers.
"He's with me."
"Boy, you best put that fucker down a'fore you git in a heapa trouble." His grip tightened on the loudstingdeath, finger playing the trigger.
"He's with me." Voice more stern, more forceful. The men-λεία-snarled down something to him. They exchanged heated words, somewhere I stopped trying to keep up. It made my head throb with the effort. Settling instead to growl openly, my eyes meeting the mans' in passengers seat. Till now he'd been silent, he too began snarling something in that foreign tongue, but it was offered towards me. What ever it had been it was enough to toss my Prey's conscious out the window because the shotgun slung across a shoulder fell down to his arms. He took aim.
"Get the hell out of here."
"Look boy, we ain't looken fer no trouble-"
"Then keep fucking driving." He tossed his shotgun in the direction of the road , fingers still dancing on the trigger.
"Don't say we ain't warned you 'bout them monsters-once y'all turn you ain't gon'a turn back." The engine revved-words like this spring into my head so often nowadays, I haven't the slightest clue what I know or what I don't anymore-and sputtered off. We stood there for what feels like forever. Too long. Exposed to the sun a headache had sprung up but he showed no signs of moving. Only standing with his loudstingdeath still at ready to crack an airsting. Against my body's judgment I stayed absolutely still for a good two minutes-aches of standing motionless for so long groaned in my bones. This had to end.
Toppling to all fours silently I crawled forwards, conscious of the loudstingdeath still prepared to kill. Only when I nudged his arm with the scuffed pads of my own fingers did he stir. Jolting as if he had been shocked he turned downwards to me slowly. My exposed eyes meeting his for a long time before it occurred to me what might help. Gnarling around I fished around in my own pockets, finally brushing my target. The bottle. It's trinkets made crisp cackles-they soothe the ears.
Whimpering once softly I offer them from my position on the ground. With drawling movements he takes it, scrutinizes it for a moment then I receive the reaction I want. The gentlest of smiles brushes his dirtied face for a moment before he pockets the bottle, turning down to me once more. Uneasily reaching down and scratching the top of my head as if I were some sort of animal.
"Ähm, danke" [Um, thanks]." We turned back to the pavement then, the sun was being enveloped with crisp, nightly aromas. Turning back to me he beckons, it's best to keep moving when not shrouded in darkness. So we do. One step at a time.