Shocking Fear (Open)

[Duvain]

Summer 47, 512 Early Morning Duvain sat on the forest floor trying to focus on playing her flute but she kept getting distracted by thoughts and memories of her past. Everything used to be so simple she thought to herself. She found herself wishing she could go back in time to better days...before everything fell apart. Of course, not everything was horrible. She was traveling the land and exploring places she had never been which was always a dream she had. But still, there was a strange feeling she experienced. She didn't exactly understand what the feeling was but it was some kind of bittersweet sorrow that was ever present and had, in a way, become a part of her. She had not realized it but as she thought, she was subconsciously rubbing the arrowhead that has once belonged to her brother. It hung from a thin rope that was tied loosely around her neck. The arrowhead had not been taken off since the day her brother handed it to her...The day he left. That was five years ago with no return. Duvain had always hoped to see her brother again but being let down so many times had an effect on her positive outlook. With a sudden shock, Duvain had been taken out of her thoughts and slammed back to reality by a gut wrenching scream coming from farther in the woods. It was the most terrifying sound Duvain had ever heard from a living thing in her life and sent an ice cold shock though the center of her back. Jumping up, she grabbed her bow and arrow and started running in the direction of the scream. Duvain didn't know what was waiting for her, but whatever it was, she was ready.

[Chamaeleon]

For the past few days, Chamaeleon had taken to the process of thinking. She wasn't too difficult to find these days seated on the Medatative Petal or walking the path between shrines to various gods the Ethaefal didn't yet know about. She had much to think about as she walked, from the smallest questions she had about the flora and fauna of the Spires to things much more personal and dear to her heart. It wasn't hard to give her a headache at these times, and often this early in the morning she felt unusually groggy, irritable, and ill. Even now, as she looked in upon a Shrine to some goddess, her head pounded. It was always worse in these times. She blamed this on her time in the fog. A piercing, blood chilling scream caused the auburn-crowned Ethaefal to startle, her hackles raising defensively before she stopped the immediate reaction and considered her surroundings. A distance away, a woman sprinted past. Chamaeleon had to wonder if she was fleeing the scene of a crime or investigating something the Hahk'Shatara usually looked into. Well, Chamaeleon thought they should, but a lack of gorrillas was somewhat revealing to the Ethaefal. Her interest piqued, she turned promptly and, doing her best to forget the feelings of her body, took off after the female.

[Duvain]

[framepic=http://www.iphoneretinawallpapers.com/images/fullsize/iPhone-4-Red-Background-09.jpg]
As Duvain continued to run towards the horror-filled scream, bow and arrow in hand, she finally reached the origin of the scream. Blood. Blood was everywhere. Duvain looked around for the body that the blood had come from but there was no sign of flesh. She had never seen so much blood in one place before. It wasn’t just in pools, but splattered across trees and bushes as if someone had blown up. Surely there would be some trace of skin and bone, though. She thought to herself. There was a strong stench of death in the air that she knew would be stuck in her mind for an extensive amount of time and would be difficult to forget.
As Duvain inspected the scene, she heard footsteps behind her. With caution, she drew her bow and pointed it at the figure behind her. She didn’t know if this was a curious being such as herself, or the thing that caused this catastrophe. As she looked up at the being, she was surprised to see a female Ethaefal with blue eyes deeper than the sea, auburn hair that was highlighted with shining gold, and horns whiter than pearls. She seemed to be uncomfortable being suddenly pointed at with a bow and arrow, but then again, who would be comfortable with an arrow pointed at their face? Duvain let down her bow slightly and asked softly, yet demanding, “Who are you and what do you about what happened here?”[framepic]