biteoffherhead

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001

[Voice]

[As always, Moro's use of the journal is extremely minimal. She has only one thing to say to any of you, as she is so kind as to warn you all in advance.]

I have returned. All who grievously harm this forest will die.

[Action]

[With that, Moro can be found in the forest, slowly and stiffly walking about to get herself familiar with the forest of Luceti once more. She sniffs at the bark of trees, scratches at some patches of dirt with her claws, and otherwise silently moves. She has no mark of the demon, as many of her victims from over a year ago have... she has nothing amiss about her other than the bleeding of her chest wound, which is simply dripping along the path she is walking.

She has not yet approached the village. All she has done is use her journal to address them, and she is currently carrying the paper book in her mouth.]

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[Loki, unlike quite a number of people he has encountered, is an entirely new and different scent. Moro has no qualms in stalking after him, not intending to hide her presence whatsoever, though she has no current reason to interpret him as threatening.

She wonders if the horses remember to be frightened.]

[Thankfully, Vakri is made of sterner stuff than the horses of Midgard. But the horse quickly realizes they are being stalked, as does Loki. One doesn't survive as he has without developing a sense for danger.

He picks a piece of ground upon which to stand, somewhere there is room to maneuver, and there he and his horse stop. Loki folds his hands lightly in front of him, ready to cast a spell or call a dagger as necessary. And waits.]

Edited 2013-12-17 18:47 (UTC)

[Moro observes, and simply circles around, approaching from behind. She is surprisingly adept at keeping in cover, for her size, and she is remembering many of these trees' densest points. There's not a vast amount of foliage to cover the rest, once she also finds a place to settle and stare.

She supposes it's obvious enough they've figured out she was following, and they're prepared for a fight rather than fleeing to the village. Interesting enough choice.]

[He can feel her moving. For the moment, he stays still, and simply waits. Then he simply turns his head to look straight at her.]

[She stares back, not moving or looking startled. She's studying him. And like most wolves, there is no incentive to retreat when spotted, nor to assault an unfrightened target.]

[That is a very large wolf. Like from legend, but Loki has now met and killed enough legends that it doesn't really impress him.

Since the wolf doesn't seen inclined to attack he gives it a leisurely visual inspection. Wings, how interesting. But that tells him it's not just a new creature of the natural forest. And it's likely intelligent.

Might as well try speaking, then.]

Yes? Was there something you wanted?

[There's a solid enough pause that it nearly seems like she isn't going to speak.]

I am learning your scent.

[He smiles. The expression isn't terribly human.]

I hope you find it to your liking.

[Nor are any of hers, once you do end up seeing them, my friend.]

You do not smell human, or else I might take your horse for a meal.

You could try. [And that would not go at all well.]

Though I wonder about the discernment of your nose, if you think Vakri is a regular sort of horse.

I recognize that it is unusual.

[But also tasty.]

Tell me what you are, as well. You are not human, nor demon, and thus are not worthy of my wrath.

Not worthy? [He drawls the word, amused.]

It is simple enough. I am a god.

No god I have ever smelled, nor that I have fought alongside. Why do you wear that hideous human guise?

I wear the guise of the Aesir, actually. There is nothing human about any of us. Perish the thought of that. [Ugh, humans.] We are not of your world.

[Ah, gods of a different world altogether. Strange.]

How unfortunate that you bear such a close resemblance. You would be more striking as a wolf. Or a boar.

Knowing the creatures of Midgard, I'd more likely be a serpent. Or a fox.

There is nothing boarish our boring in my blood.

[Interesting choices. He ascribes himself to tricksters, then.]

You do not strike me as a god of the forests.

Nay. I am a good of magics.

I am Moro. I am this meager forest's guardian, and I destroy demons and destructive humans in my jaws.

Bring harm to this forest, and not even death shall keep me from crushing you in my fangs.

[Loki grins.]

I am Loki Silvertongue, and I think it quite funny when people threaten me.

However, I am rather attached to this forest, myself. Tis a nice place to ride.

It is no threat. I state to you the terms of staying in my forest, and the consequences of betraying this ban.

Words are but words, Moro.

But please, assume I am appropriately intimidated. [Tricksters. Always such assholes.]

Humans seem to appreciate a warning before I tear them apart. I suppose I should offer such to a god.

Humans think they are very important.

Though I am shocked they do not whine about the dominion you've claimed.

These have not yet reached the point where they find themselves in no need of me.

[Given the giant scar on her chest, clearly at least one human has defied her. Here she stands, still.]

These humans are weak and sentimental. It would take a death of a human that they do not dislike for them to attempt to turn on me.

[She seems to think quite lowly of the humans here, but she clearly has an understanding of them.]

001

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