Greece, 1230BC
Her hands were still as she cleaned the thick, black sludge like substance from the creamy white skin of the man who was stiller than everything. The flickering candles that were placed in inserts and gaps of the wall drew a flickering amber coloured light around the cave, bathing it in a warm glow.
Now, in privacy without fear of being attacked by either wild animals or by the wolf men that were apparently venturing closer and closer with each new full moon, she could study his appearance. He was a handsome man, that much was clear. Pale coloured hair adorned his head, reaching down to his shoulders, shining in the amber light from the candles that was reflected around the cave walls. His pale skin was lighter than his hair, a perfect shade of white, as if no blood ran beneath the thin veil of skin. He had bruises, dark shadows, beneath his eyes, eyes that she knew to be a shade of crimson red, tinged with black from hunger. He was a tall man, but not as tall as Arcadius, and he was well built, but not like a hulking statue of a man like her brother was.
His top half of his attire had been removed so she could clean the defined four claw marks that were slashed across his chest, the planes of muscle toned and defined, telling her he had been a warrior of sorts, or someone who was used to strenuous work before he became a creature of the night. Lysandra gave a soft exhale as she cleaned the oozing black sludge from his wounds, wounds that wouldn't heal for weeks, until the venom of the wolf men had left his system and the venom inside his own immortal body could repair those horrific slashes across his chest.
She blinked softly, hearing Arcadius preparing the meat to eat that night for dinner. He had been wary of going out, now that there was evidence of those beast returning to their area. He had enough meat for one more night, the same meat he'd procured from the boar two days ago. They'd stored it in a section of the cave that got so cold even the water froze, thus keeping it fresh, but he was reluctant to go out now, meaning she would have to procure berries and nuts for the next few nights until the new moon had came and went.
The man in front of her was deathly still, but, a sharp inhale shook her lungs as a hand lunged out for her, for the hand holding the blackened cloth, and it closed around her wrist in a vice like grip. A snarl shook the man as dark, wine red, eyes flashed open, landing on her as she tried to keep calm. He could still be saved, but if Arcadius knew that he was attacking her as such, fire from one of the candles would descend upon him before she could blink.
Fury and agony, a potent mix, shone in the mans darkening eyes. "Get away from me, you filthy vermin!" He hissed, the sound hoarse with not being used for a few days and with a foreign substance coursing through his limbs. He scowled ferociously at her, but she swallowed, blinking softly. "I'm only trying to clean your wounds," she whispered, eyes wide as she watched him carefully.
He snarled once more, the sound too quiet for her brother to hear in another cavern of the cave. "I do not want nor need your help!" He spat. "The only thing your disgusting kind is good for is to nourish and sate mine."
Lysandra swallowed once more. "And without my kind, yours wouldn't survive." She stated quietly, looking down at her knees that were concealed by her long white dress, a simple cloth garment that had belonged to her older sister, something they'd salvaged before fleeing for their lives.
The snarling stopped, and the man looked at her with barely concealed contempt. "Is that so? Why shouldn't I rip your throat out and the other humans in the other room and drink my fill from you both?" He demanded and Lysandra raised her eyes, looking at him calmly, every fibre in her being still holding out hope. "Because my brother and I are the only thing stopping you from being torn to shreds by the wolf men, keeping you safe, cleaning your wounds so they don't fester with their venom and you die, that is why," she answered quietly.
His dark eyes watched her suspiciously, scornfully, venomously, for a moment or two, before he made a noise at the back of his throat. "And your name, what is it?" He asked coolly.
She blinked once. "Lysandra," she answered, a small smile coming to her face. The man eyed her distastefully. "And the other human, your brother, what is his name?" He asked again. He released her wrist and she lowered it onto her lap with the grimy cloth still in it. "Arcadius."
The man was silent for a moment before he spoke. "You know of these, wolf men, as you call them?" He asked.
Her dirty blonde tresses swayed as she nodded. "We do. They ravaged our village almost four winters ago, slayed everyone there but Arcadius and I. Our friends, our neighbours," she swallowed back the rising lump in her throat as she continued to speak. "Our family, our parents, our siblings." She pressed her lips together. "They are monsters."
"I am a monster. I kill your kind just as they do. Had I ventured across your village, I would have done the same. What makes us different in your eyes? You are a distasteful species, just like them. You slaughter each other in droves, you hunt and try to slaughter mine. Your kind almost killed me before I was transformed into an immortal. You are a hateful, disgusting, loathsome species that I call my food and drink. Why should I not just drink you and your brother dry and fight for myself? I could disappear into the ocean I hear not far from here, tend to my wounds myself, heal myself, and kill more of your kind."
Lysandra nodded, looking back down at the cloth in her nimble fingers. "But you didn't." She murmured, her eyes raising to look at him. "I don't hate your kind. I don't hate my species. I hate the wolves, not you. Some of your kind help others, care for others. Not everyone of a species speaks for the others. I detest the mindless slaughtering of others. I kill to survive, to eat, nothing more. You do the same. You kill to survive, to make sure you make it until the next day. We do the same, we just have different nourishment."
She exhaled softly before continuing. "I'm not trying to hurt you, to kill you, to deceive you. My brother wanted to leave you to the wolves in order to protect us both. I refused, seeing that you could still be saved. If you leave now, you won't make it far. I know from personal experience that they'll have sent out hunting groups to track you down. It's only a matter of time before they find you, before they find my brother and I. We're sentencing ourselves to a certain death by helping you. I don't ask for nothing in return, neither does Arcadius. He's doing this for me, because I wanted to give you another chance at life, because I believe that everyone deserves another chance."
He was silent as she spoke, and she gave a small incline of her lips. "Not everyone wants to kill you," she whispered softly and the man gave a slight scowl before humming curtly. "As it would seem. I was unaware of these hunting parties they send out." He revealed and she nodded, watching him closely. He gave a bitter scoff under his breath. "I suppose I shall just have to wait them out, until I am healed enough to journey across the ocean." He stated, disgruntled that he would have to spend more time around human filth.
A small smile came to her face and she raised her hand, his ruby red eyes flashing to it in an instant. It stilled, and she looked at him for permission. "May I?" She asked quietly and he nodded after a moment, a slight clench of his jaw telling her that he really did absolutely loathe her kind being near him in any regard unless it was for nourishment.
Well, she mused internally with a small smile. There was always time to change that.
