Why the hell are we going there again? I hate crowds, and you lack the street smarts to be in anything bigger than a village! You should just turn around and go back to those villages and learn a few things about the south beforehand.

Alam waved his hand idly through the chill morning air - comfortable for him, but chill for many others, it was already warmer than the summers that he experienced in the north."We're here because it's as good a place to start as any, and I've never been to a... what did you call it... a city? before. I've heard stories from the traders that came every now and then, but I've never seen one." Alam was talking to himself as he walked down the deserted road to Northsport. One of the largest ports on the northern edge of the east coast, Alam had been told by the people of several villages on the edge of the tundra that this would be one of the best places to start looking for answers. First he would find out who it was that had slaughtered his village, then he would slaughter them, with the Fisher's help, of course.

The insignia of one of the outlanders was tucked in his sealskin pouch. It was made of brass in the shape of a butterfly - that much had been told to him by the Fisher. Alam didn't know what a butterfly was, anything other than midges were foreign to him. He would ask around, find his answers, and be on his way. The Fisher had told him it wouldn't be that easy, but he didn't care - optimism was the only thing keeping him going right now.

You know that you're still talking to yourself, right? I can hear you think, no need to say things out loud. Sane people generally don't hold conversations with themselves in public.

"But there's no one around! Nobody can hear me talking to myself."

I can...

"Bluhhhh, you can just get used to it. Look, there it is!" The palisade walls of the port city came into view, and after walking for about twenty or so minutes, Alam was able to see the gate. The doors were painted white - that was interesting. Maybe that was a custom here in the south? In the north, painting tent flaps usually only happened at the birth of the child, did every woman in the city have a child this day? Cities were already starting to seem strange and complicated...

I hate to break it to you kid, but if those white doors mean what I think they mean, then we're not getting inside.

"What do you mean? Why not?" Alam stopped and cocked his head slightly, eyeing the distant gates to see if he had missed something.

White gates mean that a plague is upon the city and that travelers should stay away for their own good. That's exactly what we're going to do! Alam felt a mental tug from the spirit inhabiting the trident trying to pull his feet in the opposite direction.

Alam resisted, despairing: "But then, where will I find out who killed them?"

Bah, easy kid. There's all sorts of cities further south. We'll just go to one of those and get our information there. Come on, there was an intersection about a mile back that will take us further south. Maybe we'll reach another village before nightfall. Another mental tug. Come on.

Alam hung his head in defeat and turned around, putting his back to Northsport and to the only hope that he currently had.

~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, around mid afternoon, Alam found himself walking south down a packed dirt road. The day was warmer now - warm enough to make him remove his parka and sling it over his shoulder as he walked. In the distance another lone figure approached. The Fisher warned against speaking to them, but Alam would have none of it - this person might be able to help them out!

He called out once the traveler got into earshot. "Ho there traveler! I was wondering if you might be able to help me out, I'm lost and was wondering if you could point me to the nearest city!"

"You know, I really don't like that old man. Only he would think this funny," Nuncia snarled as she kicked dust up from the road, chewing her lip a little in aggravation. It had been a quick scuffle with the new traveller, and once that had come to its conclusion, it left the Sylvaan on a road to nowhere-- at least nowhere she wanted to be, which was any city, town, or settlement of any kind. Sure she was south a bit, but the closest forest she knew of was North more, and with nothing on either side, she was hard pressed to find that shelter before any travellers found themselves crossing her path.

At least she wasn't alone any more.

Aisu gave a snort as the dust blew back in his face, shaking more of the dust from his fur as he padded along next to the disgruntled Sylvaan. The grit clung to the unique swirls of his face and flanks, coloring his already pale brown and black with more of the earthen tone.

And you do know you are speaking out loud to me, right? Others may think you have lost your mind, considering you are also so far from any woodland.... He hated reminding her what others would think of her when she was already so conscious of her vulnerability out of the forest, but it would do no good if someone thought it advantageous to attack the Sylvaan at this point. Especially considering her already harmless appearance, albeit her natural scowling demeanour.

It had been a thankful grace that he had managed to find where his sister had been sent, thanks to that same old man she now cursed under her breath. If the old man hadn't sent him closer to her, she would have wandered this path alone; as much faith as he had in her skills, Aisu still preferred to be there to help her, if it came down to more blows. Especially with the scarring she already sported across her face from her latest brush with a new adversary, as well as all the other tell tale stories her lack of socially acceptable dress lent to the eyes of any who knew what to look for.

Nuncia kicked another cloud of dirt up from its resting place as she gave a likewise snort, continuing along the barren road at a leisurely, if not surly, pace. "And you think I care if they think me unstable? That just means they will be less likely to attract my attention, or my wrath."

Yes, but then they may also think you a likely target, being mentally weak, they may think you physically weak as well...

"Then let them come. I will show them how much of a bad mood I am in right now. That battle was less of a battle and more of a play fight! I couldnt even kill the thing!"

Sigh. Of course she would be upset about that. Another reason why we may want to avoid attention right now. We dont know if you can fully shift again, or if you are still limited by the Elder's magicks.

The old man had made sure that the Shifter wouldnt have been able to kill her elected trainee by stripping her of some of her natural power, as well as blocking Aisu out of the battle entirely by relocating her so far from him. Power like that was to be respected and feared, not enticed by curses and less than diligent due. Not that his sister knew much of giving dues, since she was as wild as the souls she shared her life force with, and as much as he would love to change that about her, he knew better than to hope. His sister was better off than he was at that moment, and that was something he would never change-- even if it did make being near her unbearable at times, with her attitude.

The next cloud of dust the Sylvaan scooped with a bare foot had the wolf blinking the dirt out of his eyes, growling low in his throat. And for the sakes of the Gods, would you stop doing that?! You may not get a face full of dirt every time, but I certainly do! He slid behind her so the next time she decided to do that she wouldnt get him too badly, continuing at her pace, eyes scanning along the sides of the road for likely places that they may take a break.

It was just as Nuncia was about to say something --be it an apology or a retort, Aisu would likely never know now, though if best guesses were to be assumed it would have been an amazing retort-- when a voice carried down the road, a figure up ahead. Aisu stalled his steps so as to fall back a bit from her, his hackles raising in a silent snarl, feeling the Wolf's soul slipping in around Aisu's, taking control.

As much as Aisu fought the Wolf on this, it seemed the animal was adamant on helping Nuncia, regardless of the fact that he would have to take orders from her, rather than letting Aisu use his own mental capacity to help. That was fine as they both held the regard for her safety at the forefront, yet it was the strength of the Wolf's soul that cowed Aisu; never before had the animals soul snatched control like that from him, choosing to wait him out usually. And within the Wolf's consciousness, Aisu could feel the deep primal anger welling to a full grown spout, ready to put his life on the line to protect his pack mate. His family. It was startling to realize just how simply animals thought, and yet how such a simple phrasing could come to mean so much.

Nuncia noticed none of Aisu's inner warring, her attention now focused solely on the newcomer as her steps stopped, leaving her standing in the middle of the road. With what seemed like more clothing on than should be acceptable in at any length, even taking into account the clothing draped over a shoulder, as if this afternoon was too balmy for even he, the man seemed too out of place even out on this road. As if he belonged in cooler places rather than here. With her posture tense, and hawk eyes taking in every bit she could, the man looked to be as simple to read as any other human hunter, right down to the wolf fur-lined boots he wore. Maybe that was what had Aisu growling so low in his throat right now, as if he could sense the killing of one so close to his soul.

Regardless, she shifted her stance as the man's words reached her, a slow and predatory tilting of her lips showing a glint of slightly pointed teeth. Lost, alone, and looking like he may be carrying at least some rations that could last me till we get to the woods. You all make this way too easy, she thought, taking in that his only weapon seemed to be that trident. Her stance would seem rather non-aggressive, considering she made no move at all for the kris on her hip, yet that was exactly what she hoped this naive hunter would think, that she was helpless, or at least no threat. Then he wouldnt be prepared for her attack, when she decided to take what he had, and with the slight growl that hadnt come from the wolf but from her own guts, she knew it was about high time she found something not dying to eat. And considering all there was for days in this direction was dying vegetation, it would be another while before she would be able to drink from a stream without feeling sick afterwards. And as much as the sickness within her had diminished slightly, she knew it wasnt gone from her yet, only laying in wait.

Nuncia waited for him to come to her, a bit closer than arrow range if she had such things, before she spoke, her grin fading slightly at the realization that her normally imposing height was dwarfed by a mere inch or so it seemed, by this boy. The spark of irritation grew in the amber depths of her piercing gaze, lasering the Northern hunter, her tone turning sour.

"No true hunter would ever become lost, child. Yet you are looking for cities, so I'm not surprised to find you are naive as well as stupid. All the cities and towns are infected this far North, and a good ways South by now as well; you will end up dead one way or another, no matter what way you go." If that didnt sound menacing enough, with her bad attitude and scowl firmly in place, her next words seemed chilled next to the warmth radiating from the afternoon sun and sharp as her daggers edge.

"So tell me your name, young one. I'll be sure to send word back to your family once I am done with your grave. The least I can do, one hunter to another..." As if to emphasis the point, the wolf slid from behind her to stand next to the feral Sylvaan, snarling viciously at the Northern hunter as Nuncia did a silent version of her own snarling scowl. Both Wolf and Shifter held their amber gazes on the man, the starvation driving the Sylvaan to take the first step forwards, the wolf mimicking her in a way that seemed eerily mirrored, both moving with that same predatory purpose, regardless of race.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The traveler was a she-elf with a wolf at her heals. She was dressed quite lightly, even more lightly than Alam, for the weather. Perhaps she was a resident of the north as well? He hoped she was, otherwise he wouldn't get many useful directions from her. Still, maybe a nice conversation? That was the way of the north, after all. If you met a person from your village, or a neighbour village, while out on the hunt or just travelling you would generally sit and converse for a short while before moving on; it was only polite, and it helped to keep you in the loop, so to speak.

Oh how little you know of the south. The northern wastes might be all sweet and kind, but the south is brutal and warlike.

Bluhhhhh.

The wolf didn't appear to like Alam though, not that the hunter could really blame the beast, one of his cousins might be lining his Moccasins or the hood of his parka. Standing a few paces behind the elf, the wolf's hackles were high and he was growling low... not a good sign. The sound put the hunter on edge, his instincts telling him to pull out his trident and get ready for a fight. He wouldn't need to do that though...

Or... maybe he might - the elf's face didn't look right. She looked angry, and hungry, though perhaps a fight could still be avoided. She hadn't gone for the knife at her belt yet, so maybe he could just get what he wanted and then move on - no conversation for this one.

"No true hunter would ever become lost, child. Yet you are looking for cities, so I'm not surprised to find you are naive as well as stupid. All the cities and towns are infected this far North, and a good ways South by now as well; you will end up dead one way or another, no matter what way you go." No smile, no greeting, and nothing but bad news. Alam was crestfallen, that was the end of his hopes. A plague sweeping across the land would end his hopes of getting into any city, and would probably claim his quarry long before he could.

Hey, wake up! You can't despair now. The hunter's smooth, musical voice penetrated the veil of despair.

Alam snapped to just in time to hear: "... to your family once I am done with your grave. The least I can do, one hunter to another. Oh no, not good. Her wolf, now snarling, slid up next to the elf who had adopted a similar stance. The hunter in Alam couldn't help but note the similar stance of the two, as if the elf was half wolf herself.

Damnit kid, what did I tell you! Now we have a fight on our hands

I'm sorry alright! I didn't know that everybody was so evil in the south.

Ugh, you're so stupid kid. I don't even care if you learned something useful, any merchant could have told you that. You know what, you can deal with this one on your own.

What, but! No, I'll need your help! Silence. Alam almost felt like crying, but there was no time for that. Maybe if he acted threatening enough they would back off and leave. If an actual fight broke out Alam didn't have a hope or a prayer. The wolf would be easy, but he had no idea how to fight humans - that was the Fisher's department.

A quick jerk freed the trident from the special harness on his back and brought it to bear. The draw was skillful, well practiced with the Fisher's help. That was as far as they had gotten though. His grip was good and looked convincing at the very least, a practice that held over from using a spear. His stance was lacking though, and anybody that knew anything about fighting would be able to tell. "That's close enough! Turn away and we can put this behind us." He thrust the trident forward, "Go on! Get going!!

If I could vomit, I would.

The idea that she was up against not only a stupid person, but a child none the less was made painfully clear by the glaze that seemed to go over the young mans eyes as she spoke, and worse off yet, he didn't bother even answering one of her questions. Fair was fair, she answered his --albeit slightly more aggressively and non too politely-- and he cant even be bothered to answer hers. Disrespect.

And to make it worse, the child hunter thought himself scary with that trident in his hands. Alright, yes, the draw was well practiced, skillful even, but after that, it was a poor show; the stance wasn't balanced right, feet too far apart, and not to mention the fact that she could practically smell the fear on the would-be hunter... it was pathetic. And disrespectful, when he decided to jab towards the two feral combatants, even going so far as to practically taunt them.

"That's close enough! Turn away and we can put this behind us. Go on! Get going!!"

If it wasn't for the fact that she felt almost cheated in life at this moment, she would have laughed in the kids face at that. Instead, she gave what some in his position would call a terrifying grin as she put her hands up in the air in surrender. Amber eyes flashed momentarily, whether it be from the afternoon glare, or something deeper, it was anyone's guess.

The wolf snarled, snapping at the air as the trident came forwards for the jabs, backing off as if wary, though the Sylvaan knew the dog was only taking her advice and letting her start this [Feels Like Trouble]. With the wolf backing off a few steps, it would take the attention off of him, and more onto the feral wood elf, which was exactly what Nuncia wanted right now.

"Ok, ok. If this is how you wanna do it..." she said tauntingly, mocking the child as she took a step back, feinting her own surrender. Yet with that step, she redirected herself to a forwards lunge, moving with much more speed than what could have been anticipated [Speed of the Wilds], closing the distance quickly between them, moving an arm to glance past the trident as best she could.

Not a couple steps shy of having barreled into his chest with her shoulder, her form dropped into the scruffy form of the Ram, its horns aimed instead at his hips. It was a low blow, but this kid needed to learn to respect his elders, and at least respect himself and learn to fight before feinting skill.

So in return for all of the disrespect, she would take a pound of flesh; and whatever else he had happened to bring with him edible and non. First the clobbering with an animal the boy from the north may have little skill in actually hunting; then she may just pull out a few more tricks from her belt. But for now, taking advantage of the quick speed and maneuverability of the ram was a good choice, if not a temporary one to see where his skills were at.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Transformations:
-Ram (1/1) (weak)

The elf's grin was wolfish and hungry and she didn't seem intimidated, even as she rose her hands in mock surrender. Her pet wolf responded a little differently to his act and slunk back a few steps behind its master, perhaps seeking shelter from the alpha of the relationship. Alam had almost hoped that the wolf would lunge forward. Animals, at the very least, were something that he could fight. He had squared off against a wolf one time on the wastes - a lone wolf that refused to back down and ended up lining Alam's boots. That was three years ago, but he was still confident that he could fight the wolf if he needed to.

The elf on the other hand was something that he would not be able to handle; that was the Fisher's specialty, only... he still wouldn't help! Come on! Just help me out here, I don't know what I'm doing!

What, you can't handle a hungry girl-elf? You have to learn somehow, so maybe doing will help. The Fisher was obstinate. Alam was even trying to draw the Fisher's spirit into his body - something that he had never done before - but the spirit just wouldn't budge.

Then there was no more time left to struggle. Apparently the elf hadn't been intimidated at all and lunged forward, swiftly side-stepping Alam's clumsily held trident and thrusting her shoulder toward his chest. At least she hadn't drawn that knife yet...

She probably doesn't think she needs to.

The frightened hunter began to spin out of the elf's path - there was no way he would be able to take that hit and stay standing. After that he would be left on his back and would be vulnerable to anything she wanted to do to him. She would probably kill him, or maybe set that wolf on him. Being eaten alive was certainly not something that he fancied in the slightest, especially with the cruelty that some wolves could show their kills.

"What the hell?!" Suddenly there was no longer and elf charging at him, but a ram! As Alam was twisting away he saw the elf start to fall forward. At first he thought she had stumbled or tripped on a rock or something, but apparently that wasn't the case at all. Instead she had fallen forward as part of the transformation - the horns blooming from her head and fur sprouting from her skin as she fell. Alam caught only a brief glimpse of the transformation before he lost sight of her and the ram charged past with a horn only inches from his thigh. An impact from a beast like that wouldn't have been pretty.

Coming out of the frantic dodging spin, Alam was beyond startled. Skin-changers were things that only existed in myth for Alam - that sort of magic belonged to the gods and creatures that were long dead, not just to some mortal, hungry elf. If Alam wasn't scared stiff, he might have been angry at the elf for defiling his lore. There was a benefit to this though - now that she was an animal Alam had a much better chance of fighting her. Even if she was an animal with human intelligence, she was still an animal.

It seemed that he wouldn't be fighting her on his own for long however. Suddenly the Fisher's interest was piqued and he was watching very closely. Alright, I take it back. I think that I might just take over after all.

Really, you will? Why the sudden change of heart? Alam was relieved, but was suspicious at the same time.

She's more dangerous than I expected. Shape shifting is ancient and powerful magic - not something that someone so unskilled should be dealing with. That and she's suddenly a challenge, and we both know how much I enjoy a challenge.

Okay, then take the wheel!

Not yet. Draw her in, make her think she has you - that's when I'll take over.

That shouldn't be hard - I'm scared as hell!

"Please!" Alam cried, his gaze bouncing between the ram and the wolf, one on either side of him now, "Please, I don't want to fight you! Just let me go and I'll give you my pack and all of the food in it. He was backing up off of the road and into the scrubby grass of the tundra, trying to put as much distance between himself and his assailants as possible. It looked like he was aiming to flee at the first chance he got - exactly the look that the Fisher wanted. Draw her in - not hard when all you wanted to do was run away!

He dances like a girl! Why does he not stand and fight like a man! the irate Sylvaan exclaimed within herself as her horns sailed inches past the mans leg. Digging in her back hooves, grinding up dust off the road, she planted one front foot to pivot herself around to the left to face the boy-child off again. Like a miniature bull, Nuncia scuffed the road with a cloven foot, snorting at the dust that came up.

"Please! Please, I don't want to fight you! Just let me go and I'll give you my pack and all of the food in it."

The boys terrified glancing between the ram and the wolf had the feral elf chuckling slightly inside. The wolf himself could smell the fear coming off the boy, which was more than enough for him to take a few steps forwards, well out of range of the trident, but flanking more to the left of the boy then he had originally been. The wolf snapped its jaws, snarling like a dog on a leash, waiting for the signal from the Alpha, but all the link they shared was getting him was glee at the act the boy was putting on for her.

The ram eyed the boy for all of a second after his exclamation and pleading while he stepped off the road, and with a simple snort, she was off again, making a mad dash faster than even before, so that she was almost a blur [Dashing Ram], aiming her horns for his hips again. With her normal speed already boosted by the gods of the Wilds, her sprinting had become almost too fast for most to dodge. And one good hit would be all she needed to get an edge in on this battle-- and maybe some decent food for once. Taking it off the road was just as good as keeping it there, though at least if someone else were to happen by, they were least likely to help if they weren't in the way of the caravans that used to go up and down that road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Transformations
-Ram (1/1) (weak)
==>Dashing Ram (1/2x) (weak) (teamed up with Speed of the Wilds, its quite a bit faster than normal)

The animal-elf did not look pleased at having missed her initial charge, and her pet wolf seemed to share her displeasure. The canine was circling around to flank him, a pack tactic that was the wolf's only recourse against an opponent that stood their ground. That was the best way to survive a wolf pack's attack - standing your ground long enough for them to give up. Somewhere, deep down, Alam was hoping that holding his ground long enough would cause the elf to give up too.

The Fisher, though, had other plans: She's going to charge again. Get ready.

I was ready five minutes ago.

The Fisher was right though, the ram's hoof was scuffing the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust. A snort sent the dirt swirling around her nose, and Alam lowered his stance, ready to leap out of the way of the coming charge. Four hooves scuffed the road in unison, the sharp tips digging into the dirt and giving her the traction needed for the powerful charge. Powerful, and fast! Alam had never seen an animal move that fast in his life - much faster than she should have been.

In a panic Alam almost jumped to the side, but he didn't have a chance. The moment the elf-ram lurched forward The Fisher reached in and took over the wheel.

That uncomfortable, wet and cold sensation washed over Alam's soul as it fell away from the controls to some place deep inside of him. It always felt that way when he took over, like he was being dipped in a cold pond of slime tainted with the essence of evil. Alam felt himself recoil from The Fisher's slimy touch as his soul slid by to take the wheel and suddenly felt an instinctive urge to take back control. Willful relinquishment of control was much easier than having it forcibly taken, though. There was no pain, no sickening feeling of falling and no feeling of leaving a piece of yourself behind. The Fisher had only done that once so far though - and apparently it had hurt him just as much.

Or so he said.

That's better... The only outward indication of the change was a change in the eyes of Alam's body, shifting from a brown to an icy grey at the same speed that the sylvaan changed skins. Well, there was that, and the sudden shift in stance and grip that suddenly bespoke great experience at arms.

The Fisher planted the end of his trident and pushed off the ground with it while jumping to the side, lunging out of the way as the elf's horns went crashing through the location of his hips just a moment before. Instead of The Fisher's hips her horns struck the butt end of the metal trident - no issue for a ram who could run into a wall with little issue, but it was an issue for the Fisher's hands. The vibration shot up the shaft of the trident and rung his hands harder than a bell - and uncomfortable reintroduction to the world of the feeling to say the least.

After that though, The Fisher spun deftly and landed on his feet, the water in the skin that was strapped to his back sloshing around inside the hide. He would be using that shortly - he had intended to use it on the elf when she was charging, but the extreme speed of that move had precluded anything but the hastiest of dodges. The Fisher just hoped that his home wasn't dented.

"You know, you rabid bitch, it's a pretty pathetic move to attack a child-"

I am not a child! Alam hated it when The Fisher called him a child

"Lost on the road so far from home. Is your stomach just so important that you couldn't wait a few more hours to find some village to steal food from instead? Now I guess the boy will be making a new pair of boots out of you and your wolf once I'm done with you." A venomous smile tainted Alam's gentle face, "If there's anything left of you, that is."

His eyes slid to his left and check the position of the wolf; keeping track of your enemies was important in a situation like this - if you didn't you could very quickly become a new pair of boots yourself. The wolf's position checked, now it was his turn to go on the offensive.

The Fisher left hand reached behind his back and popped the cork out of the skin, then he let the water flow. A thin stream of water came back over his shoulder with the hand as he swung violently to his left, striking out at the more vulnerable wolf [Water Lash]. Attacking the elf as a ram was pointless, her skull was just too dense to damage with any tool that The Fisher currently possessed at range. If he possessed his full strength it would have been child's play, but the years had taken their toll on his skills, and so he needed to go back to basics.

The thin lash of water struck out in a sharp, quick arc toward the elf's canine familiar with the aim to catch the beast along its vulnerable snout or eyes. If he could take the wolf out of the equation early then the rest of this would be a piece of cake. The wolf was the key - The Fisher just hoped that the elf didn't realize that.

[Water Lash, 2/3 Remain]

Aisu saw through the wolf's eyes the danger that was on its way yet could do nothing to warn the current controlling occupant of the body they shared; it was almost ironic that with all the battle expertise the Sylvaan had gathered that he would be so useless within such a circumstance. At least Nuncia had an inlking of what was going on, and with the sudden burst of urgency coming through the animal connection they shared, the wolf reacted swiftly, as if he were hit from within by something; the water slash arced towards the wolf's face, though with the elf womans command the wolf lowered his front half as if in a playful ounce, the water-lash instead striking him along the forehead and base of his ears. In unison, both wolf and man-Sylvaan within gave a painful yelp and a hop-skip backwards, the great canine lifting a forepaw to try and wipe at his head, thinking to swipe at the water that clung to his fur. Wolf was now wary of the man, moreso than he had been before, concerned that the scent of fear was no longer clung to him as a second skin as it had been before. If the wolf were to communicate anything, it would be that he had before been facing prey-- now he faced a predator greater than himself.

Nuncia, however, was livid. First he disrespects, then throws names, and now harms her only family left in life. Her brother, who was now pawing at his head, the gash already beginning to well up with the crimson that would taint his fur, stain him.

Magic. She had a funny feeling something was awry with the boy, since even she had thought it a little too easy to attack such a creature, and yet it was only now that she saw the differences. His stance corrected with years of experience, his grip sure, his words stronger, more commanding; it was as if he had changed in an instant, just as she had. A smallest of details gave her the answer she knew to be true already, and sure enough, that angry gaze gave that to her-- he had changed. How or to what she had no clue, but he had changed, just as the hue of his eyes had. Just as her eyes did when she changed into her feral ferocity.

Yet as she saw the man deftly uncork the water skins and swing the water over himself, she knew for certain what she must do now.

Get rid of the water.

While the mans left arm swung, his gaze slid ever so slightly to watch the arcing of that magic water, the elf ram was on the move again. With another sped up dash [Dashing Ram], blurring speeds with a closer range now, she hoped to catch him this time more solidly; though she had noticed he seemed to push himself off more to one side, she compensated in the barest of ways to allow her to catch him if he chose to hop away that way once again.

As she moved, she ordered the wolf to circle him, force him to dodge into the direction she was aimed for, herd him into submission like the cattle he was. Then she would tear into him and pay blood for blood for the harm he had done her family, her brother.

This had been a simple ploy over food before, but now. Now it was personal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Transformations
-Ram (1/1) (weak)
==>Dashing Ram (2/2x) (weak)

The elf-ram skidded to a halt, her hooves digging furrows into the hard, semi-frozen ground a short distance away from him. She was really putting on the brakes, no doubt trying to stay as close as possible to him for another charge. That was fine, let her tear up her hooves in the dirt - she would feel it the moment she shifted out.

As the she-ram turned in place the cord of water attached to The Fisher's hand struck a red line across the wolf's forehead. The beast had sensed the danger at the last moment and had flinched his head down at the last possible moment, sparing his eyes from damage. The outcome was not optimal, but it was certainly favourable. The cut was already starting to bleed, and the wolf's pawing at it would only make the wound worse rather than better. Eventually the blood from the wound would start to trickle into the wolf's eyes, and then he would have a much more difficult time. Getting blood in one's eye wasn't quite like sweat; blood didn't sting like sweat did but instead was sticky and had a habit of clinging to eyelids and making seeing anything a pain in the ass. That wouldn't happen for a bit yet, but it would eventually.

The Fisher turned back toward the ram and gave her a grin that twisted the boy's face unnaturally. The cold lines of The Fisher's typical nasty grin did not mesh with Alam's generally good-natured face and instead made it an incredibly ugly display of teeth and dimpled cheeks and crinkled chin. Not a touch of that smile touched the cold, icy eyes, eyes that taunted the elf and bespoke the cruel things to come.

He was goading her intentionally, and though the wolf had begun to move again to try to flank The Fisher all of his attention was on the she-elf. The angry cast to her sheepish eyes betrayed her intention, she was going to charge again.

And she did. The Fisher had expected the charge to be slower this time, but again the elf exceeded his expectations and accelerated rapidly, closing the short distance between them in only a few strides. There was no time to dive to the side this time, even a push with the trident wouldn't help speed him out of harm's way. He was left with only two options. One was to counterattack, and the other was to take the hit and hope it didn't kill him. He opted for the third.

An expert acrobat in his previous life, he had honed his skills to the point that he was nigh-on untouchable by a known threat. Grace was implied in everything that he did and there were none that he knew of that could best him in an acrobatic display. He would use those skills now to get out of the line of fire and, hopefully, turn the tide while the elf's back was turned.

Planting the tines of his trident into the dirt he jumped upward and forward, pushing himself upward to provide himself with the extra lift required to get out of harm's way. In mid-flight he twisted his body, using the last of the trident's resistance to allow him to complete the maneuver with ease before it was unceremoniously knocked out of the ground by a charging ram, wrenching his arms up and away, leaving him unable to catch himself if he failed. Not that he ever failed though - he brought his feet under him and touched down on the ground gracefully, trident in hand and ready to give the ram some payback.

Well, that's how The Fisher imagined it anyway. The jump was seamless, the human's legs and arms offering him more power than he was used to in his previous form, but that was about where it ended. He noticed the problems the moment he tried to turn his body in mid-air - his muscles simply wouldn't respond like he wanted them to. Instead of flowing through the motion like it was second nature they bucked and protested like a willful horse, making his twist awkward and seem unpracticed. Instead of the motions of a master it was the jerking confusion of a novice, and so when the ram's head struck the trident and knocked it free he was wrenched even further out of position.

Unable to catch himself, and far beyond hope of landing on his feet, The Fisher landed face-first onto the hard soil, his body protesting both the awkward, unnatural jerking of the muscles and the brutal impact all at once. To make matters worse, water had sloshed out of the waterskin and had soaked his shoulder and the ground in front of him, and was already in the process of soaking in.

What in the hell was that?! Alam cried in horror inside of his head, I thought you knew what you were doing! That looked like I could have done better - you better hope nothing is broken!

The Fisher was miffed and suddenly in no mood for Alam's criticisms at the moment.If your body wasn't so weak and pathetic I would have been just fine! Human bodies truly were inferior, nasty things. They were so bulky and ungainly, absolutely useless for anything at all. How humans had survived as a species up until this point was an absolute unknown to The Fisher, they seemed to lack all of the tools that made high elves so superior.

Alam had only one thing to say to that: The hell's a high elf? You mean there's more than one kind?

Pathetic... As much as The Fisher's body was groaning and complaining, he found that it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. A fall like that may very well have damaged something quite heavily in his previous form, but this human body seemed much more robust. At the very least nothing was broken. He couldn't lay there all day though - he needed to act. The wolf was still active and would no doubt be angry with him after that lashing. A prone target was a wolf's favourite target, and there was little The Fisher would be able to do if the beast beset him now.

The Fisher scrambled to his knees as he guided yet another thin cord of water from the ever-lightening skin on his back and once again lashed out at the wolf, to his right this time. The attack was more to keep the beast at bay until he could regain proper footing, but he still sought to do some damage. This time, thanks to the lower profile, he was able to target the wolf's equally vulnerable legs. The body was not something he wanted to hit at this point - the wolf's fur would be too dense for such a simple technique to penetrate - but the legs were a prime target. Hindering the wolf's mobility would be the last nail in the beast's proverbial battle-coffin.

After this we have some serious training to do... He wouldn't allow himself to look like a fool again.

[Water Lash, 1x remains]
[1 Water Unit remains]

The ram watched as the boy thought himself as skillful as the ninja she had once fought against, thinking to jump over her and land-- and for a second, the confidence she saw glinting in his eye made her think he would or could do it.

Until as her charge connected with the trident for another time, she spun her form around using her front leg as an anchor, just in time to see the dust fall from where the boy now lay, face down.

It was hysterical to think she had thought him skilled for a moment, until she let that thought allow him the time to gain footing, even to his knees, and send another lash of water out at his target-- her brother, once again.

She tried to tell the wolf to jump, move, anything, but the animal was blinking blood from his left eye and hadnt seen the thin slash of water coming for his legs. Just as he raised a paw to try and wipe at the blood again, the water hit him across his right leg.

The yelp her brother made had her blood run cold, then full of fire, that fire dancing in her eyes, flashing them red [Rabid Transformation]n. Her brother stopped pawing at his face and picked his injured leg up, snarling with raised fur at the boy, enraged as much as she was through their link.

The wolf began an advance that was slowed by his lack of a fourth leg to use, but still he was pushed, compelled to move as fast as he could towards the kneeling boy-- just as she was doing the same from her flanking position.

The ram waiting for her brother to get closer to the boy before she began her rush, planning on meeting the boy at the same time, which would be perfect for what she had planned; Aisu would feint and move out of range while she would likely get a great shot on the boy, and if all went well, rip a limb off. If not, then bashing him into the ground would work as well.

As both animals came into range, the wolf closer at first than the ram, Nuncia shifted in her fast speeds to the huge form of the gorilla, the ground betraying her new form by thundering and shaking as she made the last steps towards him, reaching a huge expanse of arm out towards him, sweeping to catch the boy or his trident in its grasp as Aisu abruptly turned to cut off the boys escape route, jaws snapping. The gorillas was faster than what would be expected, and hopefully that would be what was the clinch factor in this attack.

It would be beautiful to truly get revenge on this boy, though first things first. That toothpick has to go. Then the water. Then that smile off his face. Blood for blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Transformations
-Ram (1/1) (weak)
==>Dashing Ram (2/2x) (weak)
-Gorilla (1/1) (strong) (1/3 posts) [Rabid Transformation]

Another hit scored on the wolf, this time the kind of hit that would make him an almost non-factor in the combat. There was no doubt that the wolf was still dangerous but speed was the wolf's ally when numbers were out, and without that speed they would have a much smaller chance of victory. The Fisher reveled in his accomplishment for the moment as he turned his gaze upon the ram and rose to his feet.

The elf was apparently quite angry with him, her eyes were practically awash with blood lust, and looked just about ready to charge at him again. As much as the Fisher welcomed such an act, his aching body told him that the agile route was not the one that he was going to be taking for a while, if ever again. Not being used to failure, his inability to follow through with an easily-executed technique did more damage to the Fisher's ego than the ram's horns ever could have. Now he felt that he needed to prove himself, both to restore his own confidence and to silence the squawking boy in the back of his head.

Training would be good, that way you don't fall on your face again when you try something crazy like that in my body!

You realize that I could just let the elf kill you right now, right? I would survive - I would just go back to the trident - but you would have a much harder time doing so.

That shut him up. Good, there was nothing more annoying - or distracting! - than having a voice nattering away at the inside of your head while you're fighting to protect his body. If the Fisher could afford it he would have simply let Alam die he would, but the boy was amenable to the presence of a strange spirit and even allowed it to take over his body now and then. Such a person was a rare thing that the Fisher didn't want to have to wait around for again. Better to just go with what you've got rather than look a gift horse in the mouth. Was that still a saying? The Fisher had no idea.

I've never heard it.

SHUT UP!

The distractions in his head had caused the Fisher to miss the slow, hobbled encroachment of the wolf, so he was not fully prepared for the situation at hand once the ram charged again. They were both coming in for the strike this time, and though the Fisher was not fond of dealing with two combatants without his customary agility, he thought that his weapon and particular fighting style would be enough of an edge to keep him in the combat. As the ram grew nearer - the wolf was already in range to make a lunge - he thumbed the latch on his trident and gave the shaft a twist, readying the two parts to unlock at any moment.

No---Holy shit!

The elf changed her form with extreme quickness, shifting from the form of a ram into the form of a hulking gorilla between one step and the next. The change was abrupt, and was more than enough to cause the Fisher to adapt his strategy on the fly. His idea had been that he would separate his weapon and lash out with a circular flurry of blows that would be aimed to catch both of his opponents with the bladed halves of his weapon. Now though he was forced to change his tune and deal with the encroaching gorilla and leave the wolf to its own devices.

The wolf had lunged as well, but had landed somewhere behind him and was now snarling and acting all terrifyingly wolf-like. Inside of his head Alam was panicking, but the Fisher was cool under pressure. Even as the arm swung in with its massive hand ready to grab hold of Alam's comparatively small frame, the Fisher lunged forward, thrusting his trident at the beast's exposed chest. While the thrusted forward with his left hand, he actually drew back with his right hand, essentially making the movement both an attack and an unsheathing motion at the same time. The strike would not be nearly as powerful as it would normally have been with both hands behind it, but it was much more versatile

He could not stop himself from being grabbed, the superior strength of the beast ensuring that, but it was much better than the alternative. If he didn't allow himself to be grabbed the hulking gorilla would have simply bowled him over, a happening that would be fatal no matter how you sliced it. Like this he would still have the opportunity to continue fighting, and with his other weapon free now he would likely be able to force the Gorilla to drop him before too much damage was done.

Now it was just a matter of keeping the wolf from gnawing on his ankles...

The stabbing pain in her chest as the trident met its mark had the beast howling as only an angry monstrosity could, spittle flying at him as her hand closed around his middle. Blinded by pure fury and the gorilla spirits own will for revenge, the grip tightened painfully, the other great hand swinging to catch the tine-end of the trident, having not realized that the man had separated two halves to a whole. All the while, her great maw was heading for his right shoulder, those huge yellowing canines looking ready to rip him apart for the damage he had done. Left hand full, right hand grabbing, it was a precarious balance for the Gorilla, being used to having at least one hand on the ground, though balance would be in its favour for a short time more.

Until she decided to slam him into the ground, at least.

Below, Wolf circled the mans feet at a distance of a few feet, waiting in the wings if something were to go wrong-- though mostly it was the fact that even the pet was afraid of such a huge creature his Alpha had become. Aisu, deep within, was even in silent awe of his sisters huge form, having never seen her lose control so completely and yet still within herself. Though he noticed the tridents hidden versatility, he could do nothing to warn his sister or the Wolf that currently had him pinned down within. It was the most frustrating experience of them all, seeing and hearing and feeling and yet able to do nothing about it.

The idea was disarm him, and then disarm him, maybe throw him around a little, then give him to her brother as recompense for the damage done. Leaving him on the side of the road when they were finished seemed like a nice final touch. It was the least she could do for a weary traveler from so far away from home, after all.
Especially one with a loud mouth and a pointy stick.

At least he didnt have a crossbow. That would have just made my day even worse then it already had been. Odd, how even when you are the most pissed off, you can still somehow find a bright side. Huh. Though being about to rip someone apart does have a brightening effect on my outlook as well. Maybe I am a little more wild than usual. Oh well. Let me hear you scream, boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Transformations
-Ram (1/1) (weak)
==>Dashing Ram (2/2x) (weak)
-Gorilla (1/1) (strong) (2/3 posts) [Rabid Transformation]