forum I'm alive and not sure for how long (MATURE + CLOSED)

Started September 09, 2023 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

As much as Valiel wanted to be able to be down in the marketplace, she was stuck. The last couple of days had been nightmarish.

First had come the shocking news that her father was moving the wedding date. She'd hoped he'd wait, that he wouldn't force her to marry Phyros anytime soon, but… his outrage the night of Grandmother's party had led to him moving it to this weekend.
To tomorrow, in fact.
She had only tonight to prepare herself. Tomorrow, she would marry Phyros and be his wife, and everything about that repelled her. Not only would she have to go live with him and pretend to enjoy his company, he would expect her to be a wife, in every sense of the word.
Valiel would rather die.
She had felt this before, the agony of her father's anger digging deep into her soul and making her wish herself able to not live this life, but this… this was deeper.
Her light felt so far away, covered by the thick clouds of deep sadness.

Only one more night. If she was still alive by morning, it would be her mistake.

…..

The heralds had gone through the marketplace once more, reminding people that tonight was the last night to wish the Princess good luck, before she became the Archduchess.
Most of the people of Konrack had been to the feasting the last couple of nights. Many of them had good intentions, celebrating what they saw as a happy thing for their royals.

A few, in the criminal world, had used it as a chance to case the Palace of Rime, and check security. They'd gone looking for valuables. Whispers of this had even reached Thatcher's ears, suggesting to him that the easiest way to get to Valiel might be to go as a guest.

It was an open invitation, after all.

(Sudden little idea- I’m guessing Phyros is abusive, so when he goes into the castle, something is happening between Phyros and Valiel, so he makes the judgement to kill Phyros. That would obviously start a whole thing of the other families heir being dead and Thatcher’s code being broken)

Thatcher and Nike hung around the marketplace, but there was no sign of the princess. He had begun to lose hope, thinking he must have to go about this the hard way. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, knowing the spur of the moment thing could be dangerous. Did they know of reapers? More importantly, did they know how to kill them? He was going into this practically blind, save for the bits he had found when researching the species.

But, then he caught word of a few important things. First off, that he wouldn’t be the only one looking to pull something off at the castle. Whispers from thieves passed by his listening ears. He would use that as an advantage, as guards would be more worried about them, leaving the princess exposed. It was open invitation, he could get inside easily. He wasn’t sure if Nike would be able to come, but judging by the reactions of the women in the royal family, she may be able to sneak inside and be tolerated by some.

The townsfolk had been going in and out of the Palace all week with their animals. Some of the critters were given as gifts, others were there to do tricks or just be admired by the royalty.
Granted, none of them had been hellhounds in disguise, but Nike wouldn't be terribly out of place at Thatcher's side.

The evening came, and the procession of commoners headed towards the outer gates of the castle, ready to go in and enjoy food and music and dancing.
Valiel was in her room, standing at a window, watching them come. She felt off, as if something in her soul no longer wanted to keep breathing.
Phyros wasn't a bad sort, but she didn't want to marry him.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, she made her way down to the banquet hall. A huge room, with a raised dais in front of a fireplace. King Rhethiak and the Queen sat on two thrones there, servants serving them food. To their right sat Valiel, her grandmother, and her brother. To their left sat Phryos and other assorted nobles.
There were long tables around the outside wall of the hall, where people sat, eating and drinking and enjoying themselves. The floor in the middle had bee cleared, and dances occurred there, spurred by the music of a band of musicians off in one corner.
Peasants, nobles, and all other visitors entered the hall, and would bow before the royals, and present a gift, or their congratulations. It wasn't a requirement, of course, but the majority of people did it.

Valiel did her best to smile at everyone, but it was a hollow smile. She kept glancing across the room, and catching Phyros leering at her. He was already drunk, and she hated seeing that look in his eyes.

Thatcher had done his best to get dressed up nice for the event. He wore his all black formal attire and fixed up his hair, hoping to not stick out like a sore thumb. That would prove a bit difficult with his ‘doberman’ by his side, but he would work with it. He had put a crimson colored collar around her neck, and as much as she hated it, he thought to dress her up for the occasion the best he was able to.

Upon arriving at the castle, it took a while to get inside. There were large crowds throughout, and anxiety bubbled in his chest. How would he manage to get Valiel alone when everything was so hectic and busy? Nike seemed touchy as well, and he was glad he chose to make her wear a collar as it would prove helpful in the case he needed to yank her away from someone swiftly.

When it was his turn to approach the royal family, he did so with a false confidence. “Congratulations, your highness,” he said with a bow, grey eyes staying fixated on Valiel. He knew he couldn’t linger, and didn’t think he wanted to, so he stepped aside, heading with Nike into the crowds to wait and plan.

Rhethiak Galcan had seen a lot of things in his life. He was over 400 years old, and had been around quite a bit.

He recognized a Reaper when he saw one.

The hellhound was a nice touch. The killer was polite, and Rhethiak had to wonder why he was here. As far as he knew, Reapers only killed one person at a time… so who was this one here for?
If captured, he'd likely never tell, and he might even fight his way out, so Rhethiak gave a nod as the tall, dark figure bowed and offered congratulations.
They would wait, and see whom he was here to kill.
…..

Valiel was in a routine, not really paying attention, when she saw a face that made her pay attention. It was Thatcher and Nike! The hound looked so nice in the bright collar, Valiel couldn't help but smile at them both. She watched as he faded off to the side.

After a bit, she stood, intent on going to talk to him. She was known for mingling with the commoners, so no one would think anything of it.
"Valiel…"
Her father's voice pulled her up short, and he motioned her towards him.
"If you're intending to go talk to the tall fellow with the hellhound, don't. He's an assassin, and I'll not have you in close range of him."

Valiel felt like he'd slapped her. She'd rather liked Thatcher, but her father wasn't usually wrong about these things. She asked a few questions, got a few answers, and slipped back to her seat, her little heart sinking back down in her chest.
She felt betrayed, though she had no reason to feel that way. Certainly, she felt lied to, but the more she thought about it, she had no reason to feel that either. They'd met exactly one time. She shouldn't have expected him to just tell her everything after one meeting.
Her Grandmother leaned over and spoke comfortingly to her. "It's just your heart, dear. Everything feels worse because you're upset. But the sun will come up tomorrow, and the clouds will part, and you'll be alright." She smiled at Valiel, and the Princess gave the smallest smile back.
The thought wasn't a comforting one, but… it was a good try.
Maybe he's here to kill me… she thought. That would have been a nice turn of events.

……

The evening passed slowly, and soon, things were beginning to wind down. Only the most drunk and festive guests had stuck around… and the thieves.

This became clear when there was a commotion, and guards began shouting further into the palace. King Rhethiak stood, shouting orders, and marched out of the room quickly, flanked by multiple guards. Apparently, some drunk criminal, or a group of them, had made an attempt on the treasury. The King and many guards would be distracted for a while.

The Royal family all retired for the night, and the guests were dismissed.
Valiel gave Thatcher a sidelong glance as she headed towards her quarters. Part of her wanted to go yell at him, or say something cutting, but she held her tongue as she walked out of the banquet hall.

What she didn't see was Phryos drunkenly following her towards her rooms, with bad intentions in his eyes.

Thatcher was a tad disappointed that the princess didn’t come and speak with him. He had noticed her smile, noticed how she recognized him. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed, though. Surely it was just because it would make his kill harder, right? By the time things began to clear out, there had been a commotion breaking out nearby. Common thieves, he supposed. That was a nice distraction for him, though. As the royal family left the hall, he waited. Eye contact was made with Valiel, and it interested him. Why hadn’t she spoken to him all night, and why did it bother him so much?

His attention was quickly turned to Phyros, whom he had identified as the man Valiel was to marry. Something about the man didn’t sit right. Reapers were born with a fantastic intuition, and something was off. Nike seemed to be able to tell as well. Her tail whipped back and forth sharply, and a soft growl sounded from her mouth. He watched as the man followed after Valiel. He took a look around before slipping into the shadows, Nike in tow as they followed a decent distance behind. It wasn’t difficult to follow them, as most of the guards were conveniently busy with the thieves.

Carth and Fremik, the two guards usually assigned to Valiel, had started to follow her, but another loud noise out in the palace stables had made it clear that Konrack's criminals, and rival Clans, had made their plans carefully.
They watched for a moment as Valiel made it to her rooms, before hurrying off to help with the situation outside. There were plenty of guards, and with the King barking orders, surely he'd make sure she was safe.

So no one was around to see Thatcher and Nike, or to see Phyros push his way into Valiel's rooms.
….

Valiel whipped around as Phyros pushed through her door and closed it behind him. He didn't lock it, but he was standing between her and the door.
"Phyros, what are you doing here? Please leave…"
The drunk noble stepped towards her unsteadily. "Valiel, I'm just here to make sure you're safe. I know how things are here in the palace. I know you fear your father when he's drunk and angry… I'm just here to protect you."
Valiel backed away from him. "You don't know what you're talking about… leave. Tomorrow, unfortunately, I'll be your wife, and then our rooms will be the same, but for tonight, I'm still my own woman. Leave my rooms."
Phyros laughed, a harsh sound that grated on the nerves. "Unfortunately? Come now, Valiel, you and I both know better than that. We both know you'll be glad to get away from your father." His voice softened, a slick, sugary tone to it that turned Valiel's stomach. "I'm not your father. I would be good to you…" He stepped closer, and Valiel found herself back up against the bed.
"Phyros, I don't need you to be nice. I need you to leave." Her voice was beginning to get mroe desperate. She could fight him off, maybe, but if things went badly, it would only come back on her. She tried to step around the bed, but he took two quick steps and had his arms around her waist, pawing at the lacing on her dress, pressing her backwards, until she landed on her back on the bed, with Phyros pinning her down. His voice was almost a whisper, a slimy, disgusting, wheedling tone.
"C'mon, let me be good to you, Valiel, I'm not going to hurt you, don't you see? I just want to show you love you've never known before, let me show you…"

Valiel squirmed and tried to get away. She screamed as his grip tightened, and again when she realized that no one was coming. Phyros raised a hand and muffled her screams, but she stopped making noise and focused on wrestling away from him as she realized help wasn't on the way. She tried to shift her shape, but Phyros felt it coming, and stifled her magic with his own. She was stuck in her current form, and he was stronger than her. Her guards and her family were busy, or far away, and in the chaos…

She was alone.

Thatcher had been standing around the corner of Valiel's bedroom as he listened in on the argument. A frown formed on his lips as he heard the sickly tone of Phyros's voice. Clearly the arranged marriage was not a happy one, judging by Valiel's insistence on him leaving. But he wasn't leaving, and that concerned him. He wasn't concerned about the fact that Phyros would be in the way of his kill. He found himself concerned for Valiel, who he had planned to reap that very night.

The sound of a scream made Thatcher sick to his stomach. Nike's ears shot up and her hackles bristled, a quiet and low growl rumbling in her throat. Something was seriously wrong. He tilted his head, taking a brief peak into the bedroom. He caught a glimpse of Phyros pinning Valiel down and subduing her. He jerked back quickly, pressing against the wall with wide eyes. He could assume what was coming, and he had a choice to make. He could not get involved, do what he was trained to do. Nothing that was happening was of his concern, it was not his place to interfere with the balance of things when it didn't come to reaping. Alternatively, he could step in and do something about the filth in front of him. He made eye contact with Nike, stomach churning as she seemed to agree with his decision he had made.

Thatcher opened his right hand, black tendrils that resembled ribbons emerging from the scythe tattoo on his forearm. The ribbons traveled up his arm, securing themselves around his wrist and in between his fingers before extending outwards. They had a mind of their own, taking the form of a large scythe, just about as tall as he was. Roughly, he shoved the bedroom door open the rest of the way, slamming it against the wall. Nike erupted into a flurry of almost demonic sounding barking and snarling, drool flinging from her mouth. In a quick movement, he was over them and swinging his scythe over his head, landing the blade into the back of Phyros. The end of it came out on the other side of his chest, and he yanked backwards as he did so, ripping a gaping cavity through the man's chest. His hand grabbed onto the back of the man's shirt, jerking him backwards and off of Valiel with an inhuman strength. It sent Phyros tumbling to the floor, where Nike was waiting behind him. She was on him quickly, fangs sinking into his shoulder. Her head thrashed, ripping and tearing at the muscle. Her fangs would have felt coated in fire, her feet leaving scorched paw prints on the floor.

Thatcher left Nike to deal with what may have been left of Phyros. He had no idea if the man was also a skin changer, as well as if his scythe would even kill the man. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he turned back to Valiel, appearing a mess as he was splattered with dark blood. His scythe was still in hand, dripping blood, but he didn't make another swing to finish her off as well. He held out his open hand to her. "Come on, now."

Phyros was too drunk to notice the door slam open. He was too busy tearing at Valiel's dress and keeping her pinned flat.
He did notice the giant scythe blade suddenly go all the way through his body. He tried to shift, to get way, but the jerking motion was too powerful, and he found himself on the ground, being attacked by something he couldn't fight off easily. He was bleeding, his dark magic ebbing from him quickly, and as Nike shook him, he gave a yelp and shifted his form. He'd intended to shift to something huge, and very strong, but what he turned into was a small cub or kit of some kind. It wasn't clear what he'd been going for, but his wounds had limited his power, and this form was easy for Nike to tear into and destroy.

He was dead pretty quickly.

As soon as the restraining power of Phyros's magic let go of her, Valiel had shifted. She chose the form of a massive woodtroll, 8 feet tall and muscled, her arms and legs looking like thick cords of wood as she lunged forward. She roared, a sound that echoed in the stony Palace of Rime.
Most who heard it thought it was another attacker of some kind, and no one came running.
However, as soon as she saw that Phyros was dying, and that her rescuer was Thatcher, she calmed slightly, and shifted back down to her normal form. Sitting heavily back on the bed, she looked at Thatcher. Her breath was coming quickly, her torn dress doing its best to cover her body as the adrenaline and fear took their toll.
Valiel looked at his outstretched hand, and the scythe, dripping blood, and slowly shook her head at his offer.
"If you're going to kill me… just do it here. Now." She swallowed hard and lifted her head, her dress slipping to expose her upper chest, though she caught it before she was completely immodest. "I know what you are, and if you're here to kill me, I welcome it." Her voice tapered from fear and the excitement of the moment, to dread. Not at Thatcher, but at the future he would be saving her from by killing her.

Nike had been a tad confused by Phyros shifting, as well as disappointed. He was much smaller now, and that would mean her meal wouldn't be as large. She would take what she was given in the moment, ripping of a chunk of meat from the creature and eating it swiftly.

Thatcher lowered his outstretched hand as he looked down at Valiel. He had been taken by surprise when she had suddenly shifted but composed himself and bounced back rather quickly. He did not reply for the moment, and his scythe began to crumble, its form falling apart into the dark ribbons once again. They retreated under the sleeve of his coat, forming back into the scythe tattoo on his forearm. When Valiel's dress began to slip, he tilted his head away, no longer looking at her. He shrugged his large trench coat style covering off and tossed it onto her lap for her to cover up with if need be.

He took a moment to dig into the pocket of his trousers, pulling searching for the slip of paper that would normally be there. It would have had Valiel's name on it, signifying that was his target. It was nowhere to be found. The adrenaline began to wear off by that point, a nauseating feeling settling in his core instead. When his scythe made contact with Phyros, it had vanished, signifying that he was put on immediate probation. He knew he was to report to the Council immediately, but what would happen to him was more unknown. What he had did had been a defection, breaking his code of conduct that he was bound to at birth. Surely, a severe punishment was waiting for him.

The silence had settled between them by that point, the only sound in the room being Nike ripping and tearing at the flesh of her current meal. "I will not kill you," he finally answered. "I will admit I was here for you, but not anymore. Not after this."

Valiel noted Nike eating Phyros, and had to turn her head so she wasn't watching. Despite knowing it was in the hellhound's instincts to do, it was still hard to watch her eat a person.

Thatcher's weapong disappeared, and Valiel found herself momentarily fascinated with the dark tendrils that crawled under his sleeve.
He tossed her his coat, but Valiel laid it gently to the side, not bothering with it. If her skin was a shame to him, she didn't care. She was relatively covered, just… clearly vulnerable.
Thatcher was digging in his pocket, looking for something, and the longer he dithered, the more Valiel began to get nervous. If someone checked on them, this was going to look bad.

The tall man spoke, and Valiel's heart sank. Part of her felt that same sense of betrayal. He had been here to kill her… They were enemies, though he'd acted like a friend, even if only briefly.
But some part of her was also disappointed that he wasn't going to anymore. Her head was so clouded, she wasn't sure she was thinking correctly, but as she glanced again at Nike feeding, one thought shone clear as day to her.
"Not after this?? No, now is the time I need you to do it most!" She stood, stepping towards him, the height difference causing her to look up at him, her blue eyes wide and pleading. "If you leave me alive, they'll think I got someone to kill Phyros to avoid marrying him, and I'll be punished. My father would have to fight wars with the Clans, or deliver me to their justice, and I'd rather be dead. That's what you're here for! Do it!"

Thatcher took a small step backwards when Valiel jumped to her feet to stand up in front of him. Nike lifted her head, blood dripping from her chops as she watched them before going back to her meal. "I can't," he replied in a sharp, stressed sounding tone. He shook his head, pressing his hand to his forehead. "You don't understand. I was supposed to kill you, but I killed that foul man instead. You're no longer mine to reap." Doing so would be similar to him killing someone not assigned to him, like he had just done. He wondered what the punishment would be for killing more than one person not assigned to him.

But Valiel wasn't his to take care of anymore. A wave of panic flooded his system as that set in. Another reaper would be sent to not only dispose of her, but to bring him back to the Council either in chains or dead. Whoever it was had most likely already began their journey there, and he had no idea how long it would take them to arrive. "We will both be killed," he breathed, shaking his head. He whistled sharply, and Nike jerked her head up once again. "Nike, finish up with him. We have to go."

Nike did just that, ripping a bit more meat off of the bones before trotting over to them. She sat down next to Thatcher, appearing as happy as could be in the moment. Her stomach was full, and she had a bit of fun. He looked back to Valiel, thoughts running through his brain at an astounding pace. "You can either come with me or stay and wait for whatever will come. I will not be here when the next Reaper arrives, and I doubt they will be so willing to save you," he said. It was his final offer to her. Nike looked in the direction of the door, hearing noises from out in the hall. There must be someone coming, and he did not want to wait and see if it was one of the guards or someone else.

"Oh, I was before, but I'm not now, huh? You've done your killing, and now your bound by some code?" Valiel snarled the words, before stepping back from him. She was terrified, and that was coming out as anger.

Thatcher's next words had her looking at him again. He seemed as afraid as she was, but of what wasn't clear. Nike didn't seem overtly upset, so it wasn't the current palace situation… it had to be something with whoever had sent him.

He mentioned the next Reaper, and it set in for Valiel that whoever had sent him would try again. At the moment, the thought of being dead appealed to her, but… there was still something in her chest that preferred life. Just not this life.

She was deliberating when she heard the sounds of guards out in the hall. Moving quickly, she closed and locked the door, before surprising Thatcher by tearing her dress off the rest of the way and hurrying towards her closet. Her modesty was not of chief concern as she grabbed clothes much more comfortable to travel in and dressed, rushing as much as she could.
There was a heavy knock on the door, and Carth's voice called out "Princess? Just checking on you. With all the comotion, people thought they heard noises down this way."
Valiel waved Thatcher and Nike off to the side, out of sight of the door, and composed herself with an ease that showed she had to fake being alright often. She opened the door just a bit and stuck her head out. "I'm fine, Carth. Thank you for checking. I'll be heading to bed soon though. It's been a long week."
Carth nodded at her, and gave her a small smile. "I'll see to it that you're not disturbed."
Valiel smiled, and closed the door, before turning and gesturing at her window. She stepped back into Thatcher's space, in order to whisper "I'm coming with you. Let's get out of here."

“I am not bound by shit,” Thatcher snapped, tone sounding harsh as he continued, “But I refuse to make my situation worse for myself because you want to die and you want it done by my hand.”

The words came out cruel and sharp, much more than he had meant in the moment. He wouldn’t take it back, though. Valiel didn’t understand the serious levels of trouble that he could get into because of him saving her. He would either be given a hefty amount of lashings on his back or could even be executed for breaking the code he had sworn his life to.

When Valiel began to undress rather suddenly and quickly, he turned his head away. His face felt hot, and he looked anywhere but in her direction. He pressed himself up against one of the far walls, not able to be seen from the cracked doorway. His attention turned to the window. “Is that the only way?” he asked, wondering if Valiel and Nike would be able to get out with ease.

Thatcher certainly seemed bound by some form of code or rules, and was clearly nervous about someone coming to enforce them.
Valiel chose to ignore his cruelty and sharpness. It was nothing she hadn't weathered before, and he was an enemy; she could handle his barbs.
She noted he turned his head, and some small part of her was pleased that he at least had a sense of decency, somewhere under the 'killing people for hire'.

Moving to the window she nodded in response to his question. "Unless you want to fight past the guards, yes." She looked down, glad her room was only 2 stories up. The guards were still busy other places and if they hurried, they might be able to get out unnoticed. "I can get down. Can you? Do I need to carry you or Nike?" Her words were hurried and hushed, but for the moment, collected.

Thatcher looked down out the window. Not a far drop at all, he would be able to get out easily and Nike should be ok if she takes it slow. She was much more durable than the average dog, and was mostly muscle. She seemed to agree, jumping up to put her front paws on the windowsill, waiting for it to be opened.

“We’ll both manage,” he answered with a shake of his head. He shut his eyes, and in a puff of dark ash, his body seemed to crumble into dust. It was no cause for concern, as she ash began to move and form into a murder of around five crows. The crows cawed, wings fluttering as a couple of them flew up to land on the windowsill. They waited expectantly for Valiel to open the window for them.

Valiel nodded, looking at Nike. She was trying to decide if she could become something that could carry the hound, when Thatcher's transformation surprised her. She stepped back, watching, part of her delighted.
"Well. That's convenient." The window was unlocked and thrown open a moment later, and Valiel shifted to a crow, of the same size as Thatcher's crows. Her feathers were tipped with that tell-tale red color, the same as her hair in her natural form, but otherwise, she looked like the 6th member of the murder.
"Can you speak like this?" she asked quietly. "Otherwise, I'll just follow your lead."

Nike made the move out the window without any hesitation. She leapt out, bouncing off a low hanging roof before pushing off of it to land on the ground. She sat down, looking up at the window as she patiently waited for Thatcher and Valiel to follow.

The head of one of the crows shook. He was not able to really speak, just caw. It was a bit inconvenient, but Valiel said that she would follow him, and he trusted her to keep up. The murder took flight out of the window, heading South. Nike followed after them from on the ground, keeping pace fairly well. He knew that she would be ok, and that if she lost them, she would be able to track their scent and catch up to them easily.

Thatcher flew for close to an hour before landing on the porch of a dark cabin. There were no lights on, and it looked like it had not been used in quite some time. In the same cloud of ash, he formed back into his human form, sitting on the rail. He got off of the rail, smoothing his clothes out a bit as he watched Nike break through the brush and trot up the porch steps to them.

They exited the grounds of the Palace of Rime with relative ease. In all the chaos still happening, Nike was ignored as long as she ignored everyone else. And nobody had any second thoughts about the crows overhead.
Valiel followed Thatcher, staying with him as they left the area around Konrack. She knew she was likely to be followed, but he also seemed convinced someone was coming for him, so…
They could just get chased down together and hope for the best.

As Thatcher landed and formed back, Valiel shifted mid-air into her previous form as Alnifer and walked the last few steps up. "You're just full of surprises, huh…"

(Was thinking they could be right outside of it)

Thatcher glanced over at Valiel as he made his way to the wooden door, pulling it open. “Surprises? Not sure what you mean,” he replied shortly. He stepped into the small cabin, Nike on his heels. It was dark in there, seeming to have no power. It was only one story, consisting of an open living room and kitchen plan. A hallway went down one side, where there was a single bedroom and bathroom. It was small but had the necessities. He stepped over to the fireplace that was in the living room and pushed a couple pieces of wood that were sitting off to the side into it. He picked up a box of matches that was laying nearby and struck the match, catching the wood to provide a bit of warmth and light.

“I have no idea if there’s anything in the kitchen to eat. This is a safe house for Reapers that we rest in sometimes during travels. We don’t require for to live like humans do, so unless someone was a bit bored, there may not be anything,” he said as he stood up straight, stepping back from the fire. “If anything, Nike can fetch you something.”

"I mean that you told me you were a travelling mortician, which I can't believe I fell for, and then you showed up at the feast, turned out to be an assassin, displayed some form of moral code, and are now sheltering me and yourself in a cabin just outside of Hinterland borders. Lots to be surprised about." Valiel kept her voice low. She wasn't trying to castigate him, though she felt like doing do, just a little.

She stepped up into the doorway of the cabing behind Thatcher, but didn't go in. She wasn't sure it was safe. She wasn't entirely sure he was safe.
"Reapers?" The word was unfamiliar to her. Her father had just referred to him as an assassin.
She wasn't hungry at the moment. The feast had been plenty, and even if her stomach had been empty, she didn't think she'd be able to eat with the knot of uncertainty currently residing there

Thatcher paused and arched his brow as he listened. “Assassin? No, that’s not what I am,” he scoffed. Assassins killed for money, he did nothing of the sort. “I’m a Reaper. It’s a species. We kill and heal to help balance the order of the world. I have no say in who I kill or heal, it’s just fate. I don’t do it for money or power.”

He exhaled sharply as he took a seat in one of the chairs in the living room. Nike trotted over to him and laid down by his feet, resting her head on her paws. “I have no choice on who I kill- not unless I defect,” he added, which is exactly what he had done that night. “Reapers are held to a code that we are sworn to at birth. Defecting can result in serious punishment or execution. That is what I am facing now because of what I did.”