Bane hissed, moving back from the door. He held his sword in a readied position, protecting both him and Arcturus. Growls came from low in the hound's throat, the most wafting from the sword curling around his feet. Bane shook his head when the question reached him. “You can’t. You can't fight alongside me at this current moment. The best thing you can do is stay put and let out a banshee scream if something tries to drag you away.” He looked the elf in the face, three long scars consuming the right half of his. “You also need to make sure I don’t pass out— because if I’m too wounded, I can’t protect you.” Something hard hit the door, a long-drawn-out growl coming from it. “Try to access weapons you can use. Then maybe I’ll consider you fighting with me.”
The door busted open and a giant, burly hound stomped in. It was the size of a pony. Bane’s species was— very pissed at him, and now they’ve come to fetch their prisoner. He started the hound deep in the eyes. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, charging at the creature. It slashed its claws at him, it’s giant paw knocking him to the ground. A very bad start. Bane let out a sickening oouf before slowly getting back up. He aimed for the creature’s left side, slicing it open. Hellhound blood started to drip on the floor. The creature retaliated with a blow to Bane’s belly, raking its claws against it. The hound (Bane) screamed in pain, biting his own tongue. He struck at the beast’s neck, slicing it slightly. The battle was— not going well.
Arcturus was not happy with that answer. He racked his brain for any solution, before realizing something.
When he moved, little tendrils of mist moved with him. Just a little thing, but he latched onto it.
He closed his eyes as Bane got up off the ground the first time, and pulled on the magic again. Magic ignored death, he hoped, and he could still access it, but he had nothing to control, no medium to work with.
Except that mist.
It was wispy, and small, and not much, but he wrapped a tendril of magic around the ethereal material, and twisted.
A long, thin spike formed, crystalizing into something solid, similar to what he would morph his usual weapons to.
Bane screeched, and Arcturus took the chance. He jabbed the spike deep into the burly attacker's back, pushing it with his magic and his ghostly hands, hoping to have any effect.
Bane was frying his best, but his best was— rusty. He didn't train, nor had he fought something in a long time. Currently, he was trying not to focus on the pain the scars on his stomach caused him. Hellhounds we're very hard creatures to fight and that was evident. Bane lifted his blade over his shoulder. He swung it at the beast’s chest, slicing right through its chest cavity. It snarled, using its front paw to kicked Bane in the chest. Well, it tried to. Its weak paw was blocked by his blade. Luckily for Arcturus, anything ghostly could kill a Hellhound. The thin spike went through the dorsal side of its body, killing the already dying creature.
Bane looked down at the Hellhound, scoffing. He moved over the makeshift bed, placing his sword down gently. He looked down at the wounds scorn across his stomach and frowned. They hurt. A lot. Out of his satchel, he grabbed a small canister of yarrow poultice. He sat on the comfy bundle of nesting objects, applying the poultice on the wounds. He made a sour face. Obviously, Hellhound wounds hurt a lot.
Arcturus was pleasantly surprised when the mist had an effect. It was his first signal that there was anything he could do to influence his surroundings.
He let go, and the spike dissipated. He looked over the body of the dead hound, before turning to Bane.
"Is this someone you know?"
He noticed Bane having trouble with the wounds, but he didn't think he could do anything about that.
Bane gritted his teeth, smearing the poultice over the wounds on his stomach. He closed the canister, putting it back in his bag. He buttoned his jacket closed, protecting the wounds from infection. He licked the rest of the poultice off of his fingers. It was bitter, but edible. “No. I don’t know every Hellhound. I just know what they’re after.” He looked up to Arcturus. “But it seems you’ve found someway to attack. It’s the same principle found in the way you’re solid to me.” Bane laid down in the makeshift bed. Leaves and mosses were weaved together to line a small frame made of wood. He opened his jacket to look at the damage. The wounds were ugly, but stopped bleeding. There wasn’t much swelling either.
Arcturus shrugged. "Just wondered if it was someone from your particular pack. And what are they after?" He wasn't sure if the ominous statement was a remark on his soul calling them in, or whatever trouble Bane was in.
"I'm glad I did. Feel a little less defenseless now." He smiled to himself a little. If he could do this, then he could affect the living world. And if he could affect the living world, then there was still a chance he could save Eryn Lasgalen from the doom befalling it.
The dead Elf watched Bane lie down and check his wounds, and decided to try something. Rather than sitting on the ground, as he usually would, he simply lifted his legs and trusted the mist.
Arcturus wound up sitting crosse-legged, levitating in mid-air. "You going to try to catch some sleep? Or do Hounds even need sleep?"
Bane shook his head, trying to rest his worn body. His muscles burned slightly as he readjusted his body. "Oh, no. My particular pack wouldn't be that stupid. They would take me when you weren't looking, and I wasn't able to fight back. Only there." He slipped off his jacket, exposing the long scars further. Bane grabbed another herb poultice from his satchel. It was a strange white paste he placed on the wounds. "They are you and me. You because you're still technically a wandering soul. They don't care about if I claim you or not. And me because I betrayed my father, the eldest and most powerful hellhound." He looked to the side, away from Arcturus. He placed the lid back on the paste and placed it on the floor. "It's a great feeling.." He paused, "Not being defenseless." Sighing, he closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them to see Arcturus floating in the air. He slightly smiled. "We don't need to sleep. It's not what we're built for, but resting my wounds might be better than running around. I do have some sense."
Acrturus nodded slowly, listening to everything Bane was telling him.
If he was being hunted down by other Hounds, going out on his own wasn't a great idea. However, Bane had given him a gift, and now he could protect himself. Combat was a strong suit for Arcturus; the only reason he'd been killed at all had been overwhelming odds and dark magic combined.
But if he could fight now, then he could go back Eryn Lasgalen and try to defend it from what was coming. Whether he had any chance of helping or not, he couldn't be sure, but he felt like he needed to try.
On the flip side, he knew very little about being dead. It wasn't a situation he had any experience with.
"So… there's a situation back in my home that needs remedied. I feel I can help. WHat would you suggest?" Bane had proven knowledgable so far about these things, and was clearly a strong fighter, if a bit on the young side.
Bane settled into the nest of leaves and moss. He let his wounds air out, closing his eyes. His body tingled with pain, his healing doing its job rather slowly. "What do I suggest? I suggest you wait for me to recover somewhat. If you try to go by yourself… good luck. You won't make it far." Bane has an aura around him, one of warmth. It was like a ball of warmth in a sense. "I also suggest you wrangle your ghostly powers before you fight… evil." He didn't have much knowledge at his dispense. He didn't know much about the physical world. It was strange to him. All he knew was to fight and escape near death. But was he that young?
Arcturus nodded at his instructions. "That makes sense, I suppose…" So he closed his eyes and did what he'd always done.
He meditated. He closed off everything but his mind from the world around him, mastering his body- or in this case, his ghostly form- and reached out. He felt the things around him, and now, it was different. He got used to the difference and began reaching for things, lifting small objects, trying not to use the mist directly. Eventually he moved to manipulating the mist around him, forming it, shaping it, creating more of it. He worked for a while, trying to figure this out.
Arcturus didn't realize it had been several hours, till he finally opened his eyes and noted the morning peeking through the cracks in the walls.
Bane nodded his head, listening to the soft rustle of leaves from outside. His physical form was spent, but he didn’t want to sleep. Sleep was a waste of time. The time he could use to work on gathering things for survival. But instead, he fell asleep for the rest of the night. He twitched in his sleep as dreams of his throat being cut flooded his mind. A horrible dream indeed. Bane whimpered slightly, thrashing from the fighting in his dream. He shot up, waking from his sleep. The sun hit his face, and he squinted his eyes. He didn’t like the sun. It burned. “I fell asleep,” Bane murmured. He was amazed it was possible. Stretching, the hound looked up at Arcturus, shaking his head of fluffy hair. “Have an eventful night? We should probably go gather some supplies. And when I mean we, I mean I.”
Arcturus shrugged. "Not eventful, exactly, just… got some things figured out." He looked at Bane gently. "You look like you didn't sleep so well." The young hound seemed to be having a rough go of things.
He nodded when Bane explained what he was doing. "So, can I help, or do you want me to stay here?"
Bane had stood up and clicked his jacket closed to protect his wounds. He would need to change into a free shirt. One that wasn’t shredded. He slung his satchel over his shoulder, tightening the strap. “Good. You needed to get things figured out.” He walked across the room, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. “I don’t tend to sleep well. I’m not a creature that needed sleep. When my body does shut down, it’s rough interrupted sleep.” Bane opened the door slowly, checking to make sure no creatures waited for him. “You can come if you want, but I’m not sure you can do much.”
Arcturus nodded. "I'm sorry to hear it's a no go on a good night of decent rest, but… a little i better than none?"
He stood, by simply extending his legs down till they hit the floor. "We'll see. You're probably right, but I want to at least try." He'd made enough progress that he hoped to be able to interact with the forest around him.
Bane shrugged. He stepped outside, heading deeper into the forest. "A little sleep is better for humans, but for me, it makes me sleepier." He looked at a plant and pulled it from the ground, placing it in his bag carefully. He checked to see if Arcturus followed. "I'm looking for more herbs. Maybe you can find some of those." He went back to foraging, picking some flowers, leaves, and stems.
"What are you specifically looking for?" The Elves had a deep mastery of forest herbs, but knowing what Bane wanted was important. He followed Bane, noting that he shimmered differently in the sunlight than in the moonlight. He was less solid. The Mirkwood trees didn't let a lot of sunlight through, but where they did, he nearly disappeared.
Bane considered what was valuable. “Any healing herbs or things that could be brewed into teas. Something that could help me survive long. My body has been beaten ruthlessly.” He pulled at some roots, wafting the scent, and decided they were no good. He shook his head. Only a few could be applicable. “Or something at can be crushed into a paste to spread on pained areas.” Bane perfected the darkness, avoiding the spots of light the Mirkwood trees let in. There was a pattern to his— collecting. He didn’t notice that Arcturus wasn’t as visible. Hellhounds hardly noticed.
Arcturus nodded quickly, and hurried off. He knew what he was looking for now.
Athelas, lissuin, and hyleberries. Boulderwort would maybe also be helpful.
Within about 3 minutes he had found and picked the relevant bits from several plants, and was carrying them in tendrils of mist, looking like some ghostly octopus with his hands full. He made his way back to Bane.
"Got plenty of what you're looking for. Athelas will heal wounds, lissuin makes delicious teas and will help settle your mind and spirit, hyleberry tea works very well as pain reliever, and boulderwort can be smeared on the wounds to take pain as well."
Bane hummed as he collected parts of plants and other natural things that grew in the dense forest. He heard the rustle of animals, and suddenly, a hunger grew in his belly. He tried to shake it off. He last ate a few days ago. He could go longer without food. Although, fresh meat sounded amazing right now. He was caught in his thoughts by Arcturus, who had returned with more plants. To Bane, it seemed he learned to control his new form well. “Oh thank you!” The Hellhound beamed. He looked at the plants, putting names to shapes. He would figure it out later. “Do you still wish to wait to see what the moon brings? You seem like you’re getting comfortable in your new form.” The hound inquired, listening to the animals run amuck. Food sounded amazing at this point.
Arcturus shrugged. "I'm figuring it out, but… I've always had a decent grasp of magic. However, if you think there's a better chance for me to be able to help my people after the harvest moon, then yes, we can wait on it."
He carefully set all the herbs and berries in Bane's bag, going back for more and coming back with another load. "Athelas is particularly potent, you should be good for a while. I hope." He was aware that Bane seemed like the type to fight and get hurt a lot, and if that was the case… it might not last long.
Bane smiled. “Good. I’m not sure what a full moon may present to you, but to me, it presents mood shifts.” He listened to the animals one more time before deciding on his next move. He took off his bag and laid it on the ground. “Stay here. I’m going to go hunt. I haven’t eaten in four days.” He ran off, shifting into his giant wolf form. His fur was long and sleek. His ears were perked for any noise that might appear. With the squeak of so creatures, Bane got ready to pounce. He wiggled his hindquarters in the air, using his hind legs like a springboard. His giant paws landed on the animal as he swiftly killed and ate it. It wasn’t hard to hunt when you were a giant wolf. He feasted on a few other creatures, satisfying his growling belly. A growl presented itself. The growl was low and snotty like a hellhound’s. Just then, another hound jumped out from the underbrush, pinning Bane. It bit into his exposed neck, and he scratched its belly with his hind legs. Bane latched onto the neck of the other hound, using his legs to push its body over him. Flesh tore, and its neck started to bleed.
Bane dashed away, shifting as he rounded the corner. Puncher holes lined his neck and he looked over to Arcturus. Grabbing his satchel, he motioned to the elf with his head. Back to the cabin. He got his fill, his herbs, and a fight. Today was going to be about how useful the elf could be because Bane needed some support. He reached the door of the cabin, opened it, and walked inside. It was a bad morning.
Arcturus waited by the bag of herbs, listening to the sounds of Bane hunting. At some point, the noise changed, and Arcturus moved towards the sound of the fight, worried.
Bane came hustling back past him, bleeding and looking like he'd been attacked. They hurried back to the cabin, and once Bane opened the door, Arcturus stepped in and began digging around in the bag. "Hold still. Time to test those herbs."
He crushed a sprig of athelas and let the plant juices drip onto Bane's bleeding wounds. They clotted quickly and began to heal, not instantly, but certainly faster than normal. He looked him over for other wounds, but couldn't tell.
"How badly are you hurt?"
Bane shouldered off the bag. He let Arcturus dig around in it as he sat down on the woven leaves and moss. He unbuttoned his jacket. The large scars on his stomach had healed but still looked ominous. He didn't see any wounds on his chest or his legs. Must just be the wounds on his neck. Breaking out of his thoughts, he felt a strange liquid seep down his neck and into his wounds. Fuck. That burned. Bane scrunched up his face from the slight uncomfort. "I'm not hurt anywhere else, just around the neck." He felt he was being searched. "Thank you for checking, though." This was bound to happen quite often. The two of them were a massive target on their own. A runaway soul and a criminal.
Arcturus realized he'd just kinda pawed all over Bane. He didn't know the hound well enough to be doing that.
"Sorry about that, just… used to fixing wounds quickly." If an Elf let a Mirkwood wound fester, it would eventually kill them, even if small. He took a piece of boulderwort, a moist, mossy plant, and squeezed it. A thick, viscous liquid oozed over his hand, and he reached for Bane's neck.
"May I? It'll stop them from hurting while the athelas heals them."
Bane’s face was red from being checked over for wounds. He couldn’t help it, but he wanted it to go away. He leaned over and pulled out a new low-neck t-shirt from his satchel. It was a burgundy color. Folding it precariously, he set it beside him. Bane hoped the blush had gone away by then. It didn’t. “It’s fine.” He murmured, watching Arcturus squeeze the plant into his ghostly palm. To Bane, it looked sour. His face scrunched up. “You may. The pain doesn’t bother me, but I’m sad they will scar..” He looked at the ground, letting Arcturus place the liquid on his neck.
.jpg)
