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They are the woods. Extending beyond the sparse forest surrounding suburbia, the mansion, and various houses, the heart of the woods extends into an area where the foliage is so thick, the forest below is nearly black. Here, the wildlife is feral, and wary of the human step, for humans rarely transgress this far into dangerous territories.

...It...Does things to people.

These woods are the dark woods of nightmares, where even an experienced navigator can turn around and loose his sense of awareness. There is no north star to guide the way home, the sky is a living pattern of trees. The gnarled bark of trees older than your ancestors hold great amounts of power and mystecism, and the spirits that roam these great woods are perfectly content to make sure to keep it that way.

Trailing vines across the undergrowth impede travel and paths, and an unfortunate stumble can have disasterous results. In some places, the earth drops away into obscured channels in which creeks and rivers flow, carrying water to all the living things in the forest.

But to the unafraid, the woods are also a beautiful place. Strikingly almost tropical in some areas, bright green ferns and lichens pick up what little light there is and reflect it in vibrant hues. A white flower which blossoms resemble a butterfly has adapted lumenescence, and glows in the shadowy areas. Fireflies dance in and out of sheltered stone caves rich with quartz, unexplored and unmined. This is a paradise of untainted wilderness.

The woods sheltered a refugee from normal society. Primal in his instincts, primal in his behaviours, he probably would have been better off had he been born some creature other than human. This poor creature found nothing desirable in humans any further, having been both abused and betrayed by the species his entire life, and by those closest to him-- no. The forest did not act from malice, nor was it anything other than survival-- something this boy understood well enough.

Decked in polished armor from head to toe, perhaps he could have served well enough as a warrior in eons passed, but nothing about him seemed to fit in with anything, anywhere. Near flourescent green eyes, skin to rival an albino's, and covered in green marks neither tattoo nor scar, he was a terrible mutant beast of no use to anyone.

...Or so he thought.

A'Hallei was miserable. Still stewing from the fresh wounds delt to him from his love, his only choice was to receede further from society. After all, if he met no humans, no humans could hurt him. Never again, he was through. A soft groan of pain eased from between parted lips. If this was what he wanted, if this was his conviction, then why this blasted anguish!?
A'Hallei misinterpreted his own feelings, so foreign were they to him. Where he thought he sought solitude, he wanted companionship, where he thought he hated the opinions of others, he sought validation through them.
And through it all, the things he KNEW he needed to be rid of, the riled voices of his own madness, egging and jeering at him from trapped within the confines of his own brain, they would never leave him be.

The ghost of a boy hunkered down in the mouth of the cave he used as a shelter. The surrounding quartz cast his pale form in a purple glow, lost to his eyes. He did not even notice the footsteps approaching from overhead, as a woman tromped unknowingly over the subterranian tunnel he called his home.

It happened very quickly. A'Hallei's awareness suddenly snapped back to the present with the unnatural whirring of a machine somewhere nearby. It was a familiar sound, but one he couldn't quite place. Not an automobile...No, no one could drive through this brush, not a generator-- to quiet. What was that sound!? Each whirr followed by a click, it was almost like a c--

Crack.

His roof fell in over him. Not the entirety, but a hole just large enough for a person opened up into a natural skylight as the tromping mystery literally fell down on top of him. A'Hallei darted to the side before she landed, hearing the loud thud as flesh met rock in a one on one battle the rock would always win.

Fool human! A'Hallei's first thought was. He didn't at first care who this interloper was, or whether or not they were still alive, all he knew is that they broke his peace and his house. If they did live through the fall, that was about to be swiftly changed. He'd dispose of the body and let the woods return the flesh to the earth-- no preserved sarcophogi to keep this corpse intact for centuries. Like a chill wind, A'Hallei decended on the form of the downed woman...

...Only to hover just above her.

Her face...

Her face! He knew her! Like a dream from a childhood too long past, emerged from the rolling waves of fog, he remembered this one. Long limbs bent as he folded over himself to look more closely at her. Almost serene in sleep, the trickle of blood above her brow belied her true state. But oh! Gentle rememberances of this woman stilled his murderous claw to a timid stroke as he traced the line of her face.

This one he would not kill. The intent of a murderer was not his yet. Strong arms lifted her form and cradled it to the unfeeling armor he clad himself in. He would have saved her life...Her thanks...Would they chase away the cold pit that chased away his contentment?
Catzi would awaken in the depth of the cave she fell into, lying upon a smooth rock face softened by blankets layered over it. Makeshift bandages would cover her wounds, expertly taped by one who suffered many such wounds in his life. Her first views would be of the quartz crystals glittering above her, but her camera would not be by her side.

It was in the claws of her benefactor, A'Hallei, who crouched on an elevated ledge, watching her condition with the intensity of a great cat on the hunt. He was still deciding, thinking, mulling and fighting with the warring voices in his head. Live or Die, Save or Kill, Stay or Flee?
He waited for her to awaken.

The gentle smacking and licking of lips was the first indication of life. Awareness. He could sense the cautious tasting of dry lips of those who were coming around to the mindless dribbling of those still unconcious. She kept her breathing slow and even, and did not stir save for a little flicker of wrists, both at the same time. A'Hallei tensed, coiled on his perch, hair draped around him unbound, watching her with nearly flourescent green eyes. Rousing nymph laying on his bed. Laying...Almost motionless. Long ears twitched slightly as a primal thought took him. He rejected it almost immediately, but it was there. He had tasted what true delights of the flesh had to yield, and to return to it was tempting...

Her voice brought his attentions around to a more pressing matter. She had cracked her eyes and was staring at the embedded quartz, as he thought she would. They were hard to ignore...

...She wanted to know his name...

...She called him her savior...

He scowled with the reccolection that his first reaction was to kill her. What would she say to that? His muscles bunched involuntarily, and he shivered on his perch.
"Ah..."

Voice deep and rough, rough from his hours of moaning cries lost on wilderness and the cold rock beneath.
"A'Hallei."

She would know his name. His identity would no longer be secret once she saw his face, as he remembered her when he spied hers. Such a pretty woman, emerging from the hazing fog, at his mercy now.
Do her kindly, A'Hallei, she deserves better than how you were treated.
The camera was set down as he retrieved a canteen filled with spring water. The only noise for a while was the clicking of his metal boots on the stone below, almost inaudible. He returned to hover over her again, and the edge of the canteen opening was pressed to her bottom lip, cool with moisture.
"Drink."

He couldn't say he was fond of the expression she had on her face, of the frustration and confusion that graced her features since he had uttered his first word to her. It replaced the fear, and it replaced the deception of feigned sleep. Why shouldn't she be scared? After all, who lived in the woods such as these? Who voluntarily left the eases and the luxuries and the common sense of society? Obviously someone to fear.

The long strands of his hair fell loose about him, white tendrils gently stroking her form as he let her drink from his canteen. Those lips did not suit her dry and cracked, nor did her voice when so parched. Why would anyone find joy in causing suffering to others?

A'Hallei recoiled from her when he looked up to discover her gaze looked on his. Large woman's eyes, gentle kindly eyes. Warmth...Obsidian..
He did not answer her thanks as he turned away, his jaw locked into place for the moment. He replaced the cap on the canteen and set it down, returning to her side but avoiding her gaze. Reaching down, he checked the bandages quickly, pleased to note she wasn't bleeding through them, Bruising would be plentiful, but not life threatening.

Not life threatening. He crouched to her level, eyeing her from a level from which she could not eye him. Cold claws stroked the legnth of her cheeks, not hard enough to scratch, though they were capable of maiming. Her name he was trying to fit, and he was slightly put out he did not pay more attention to those who spoke to him in his youth. But...He remembered her face, and was that not what saved her life?
No...

It was her soul, the essence of her sincerity and goodness that would not allow the ghost to mar it. He wanted to be closer to her, she chased his own malcontent away, at least temporarily.
'Where do you hurt?' he asked with his mind, knowing full well no one but his brother could read such thoughts, but his mouth would not obey. He could feel dull aches radiating from her in the same way as her warmpth, so alien from his cool countenance. She could tell him more...Tell him her name...Why had she come?

"No." He commanded softly, using the business end of his guantlets to ensure she held still. He didn't want her gaze on him, he didn't want to see her eyes. It was better when she was asleep and left him to his own thoughts. It didn't occur to him how she answered his needling questions, perhaps it was the basic answer to give as to why you were critically wounded, and in the middle of nowhere. This cave wasn't really his...Not his to fix at least. Erosion happened in the wild anyway, it was a thing not to be hated, as anger was wasted on inevitability.

Anger was much more useful when saved for the deserving.

A'Hallei gasped to realize his hands had tightened, though he still thankfully had not broken new flesh on her body. She admitted to a simple mistake. Getting lost in her surroundings, a dangerous mistake in this place, as she discovered. The pictures were to serve as memory, to take back and add a little of the tranquility to her home...Full of loud, demanding people. Yes...She knew somewhat.

Her empathy was palpable. A lark broke into a loud song somewhere outside, and for a moment the gaze was deflected to the cave mouth. Here was the last place he expected to happen among more people.
Claws released their captive. He wondered perhaps, if she had gotten lost somewhere on her journey. A'Hallei knew these woods already, he was throrough in his scouting. If she asked him...He would take her home.
Might...He might take her home. He might like her company right where she was, on his smooth rock bed.

He stood up, back into her line of sight. His gaze chided at her for attempting to move so soon. Just as soon as he met her gaze again his confidence faltered and he scowled. What would Samsara do?

The scowl deepened, flourescent eyes darkening to a low smolder. Afraid of her? What damage could she do to him, lying prone on the bed, too injured to even turn her head. What an ease would it be to so gently brush her cheek, to tilt that face, and watch her come alive with searing pain. To watch those gentle eyes widen in suprise at the intensity, to rethink precicely what she said when the agony ebbed away. But, it occured to him she did not mean in the physical sense. He wanted to spit out the simple answer, that he just didn't know what to do with the wounded woman, but his jaw tightened again, leaving him mumbling through his teeth incoherently.

A few seconds of that and he'd had enough, turning from her to stalk out to his perch. He had all the time in the world to answer. She certainly wasn't going to yell at him for taking his time. He just had to breathe, and relax, and find his words. He was such a freak.

He turned around, the words rolling from lips suddenly freed.
"You care."

So easy to say when he wasn't trying to spit a lie. He suprised himself actually, and the rolling emotions chased his words, scalding himself for saying it. It was as much the realization as the admission. Only one other he knew of cared like she did, held eyes with the same warmth in their gaze, and that one...

THAT one...

Fire was warm, but it also burned.

"Silence." He commanded sharply. He didn't wish to be probed. Asking questions led to answers, and answers spoken led to vulnerability, vulnerability not prevented by pieces of steel adorning the body. Blows he could handle, venom laced breath he could handle, but exposing his heart? He knew very well what poisons such trusts could reap. Feigned affection, feigned caring. He'd not give her the pleasure of affirming or denying her assumptions.

A'Hallei didn't actually listen to what she said, he wanted her to still. He turned around and approached again with steps completely silent. He could obliterate those he hated, those he didn't know, those who angered him, but he could not lay a finger against the one who showed him the opposite. Obsidian could not have loved him at all to be so callous.

Gauntlets were momentarily shed as he came to her side again. He reached over to her, and with hands that were as cold as the steel that usually sheathed them, touched her neck, felt the pulse drumming beneath the skin, and slid his serpentine touch to as far back as he could reach without moving her. Touching his neck in this way would result in his instant paralyzation.
If you do not rest, you will only hurt yourself more. The gaze was not so passionate now, distanced from his emotions to observe to her well being. The slight pressure on the back of her neck should release a kink knotted back there as a result from the shock of the fall and help to clear her head a little.
Do not thank me, I do not deserve it.