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♦Audrey Hatch was laughing, a triumphant grin dancing across her features as she clutched a small buckskin pouch in her grip and listened as a chorus of jingles sang of her victory. She tore down the street, braids whipping behind her and the morning sun warmed the top of her head as she ducked and weaved between the gathering masses of market goers; refusing to stop and apologize to bystanders whom she had bumped into or tripped as she continued her way down the strip. The market place had begun to fill up quite early that day, and so the pickpocket was delighted to find that the streets were already becoming abuzz when she ventured out from the shadows of the murkier, quieter reaches of the city where she had taken refuge that night. Targets and camouflage were one in the same and they were infesting the area with their money on hand, ready to pay for goods they wished to purchase at the many stands and shops that littered the small district. Audrey would assure that some of these kind folks would go home without a penny, and that others would be spared as she rested safe and unnoticeable among their numbers. She had already made her first attack, and now she was racing away from the scene of the crime, ecstatic with the rush of the first robbery of the day.

It wasn't until she was finally swallowed in a river of citizens and sure that the man she had stolen that bag from was far behind her and hopefully still clueless of his misfortune, that she took the opportunity to slow her pace. As she reached a casual speed, she continued to smile to herself, glad to know that the day was beginning on a good foot. She had had plenty of days before where managing to filch from others was far more complicated and fruitless than hoped for, and just traversing the city had become a travail task that left her bitter by the time the sun dipped over the horizon. This particular morning though, seemed to promise that the day would unravel without too many wrinkles to iron.

Holding the pouch possessively close to hear heart, to ensure that she would not drop it while wriggling her way through the flow of shoppers, she managed to pull herself from the center of the commotion to wander over to a building up ahead where she promptly turned to lean her back up against the brick. She took in a large breath, glad to inhale air fresher than that riddled with the scents and words of others all around her. The air here was thicker in general than that of the wide clear expanses of her home that she had grown so accustomed to over her childhood, and the city offered her a different aroma entirely.

Audrey took the pouch and placed it in the palm of her hand, then tugged at the drawstring that kept the thing closed tight. The mouth of the bag bloomed open, and she wasted no time pouring the the contents into her cupped hand. Several coins fell out, cold as they hit her skin and she scrutinized the discs. It was not much, but it was certainly a start. A few more hits and it was likely her chances of affording bread tonight were enticingly high; not that she wouldn't take a crack at pulling a roll or two from one of the busier stands as the day grew more hectic. After considering the coins for several moments, she dropped them back into the bag they had originally rested within and pulled the strings once more so that the opening drew shut. Pushing herself back up from the wall, she reached down to shove the coin purse into her pocket.

It was then that she jumped, releasing and embarrassing squeal as an object in her pocket squirmed against her hand and she whipped her arm out before her. Several passers-by paused in their travels to turn, startled, to the girl who had suddenly called out, raising an eyebrow in either skepticism of disgust as the looked on at the tattered urchin. A icy black liquid coated her knuckles, smearing up across the dark fabric of her gloves, glistening most unattractively as the daylight hit it.It only took her a moment to comprehend what the vile stuff was. The Tail.

Audrey wrinkled her nose as she stared at the fluid for a moment, considering the strange and morbid substance before she reached down to wipe the stuff off as best as she could onto her pants. As the item continued to twitch at her side, she held her hand back up once more, then leaned in to smell it, hitching her breath and shaking her hand with limp fingers upon realizing her fear was valid. The smell of decay had already sunken it's unwelcome presence into the frays of her ripped mittens and she scowled in defeat.

That endlessly bleeding tail; It had been so quiet today that she had almost forgotten that the fur rested within her pocket. She did not notice it too much at night; when she slept, the smell seemed almost to fade away with the sun, but as the day continued it would become more noticeable, stinging her nostrils and becoming a terrible distraction to her work. That damn scent was getting all over her clothes, her body.

She discovered something though, in that moment as she stared down at her palm and the greasy substance that tainted her fingers. She was the one who smelt like death now. Not just the tail. Not just the plague. It was her. The unmistakable reek of death seemed to seep out of that tainted object and into her very core. Her clothes did not smell like home anymore. They smelt of death. Not like her bed, or her house, nor the fields, nor the crisp winds that would roll through the valleys; but instead they smelt of that wolf's tail that she kept so obsessively plastered to her hip. She did not smell like a young Obscuvan girl who spent her days wandering the flat lands carelessly. She smelt like an orphan who wandered the streets and cluttered markets in search of heavy wallets and empty homes.

She smelt like a completely separate life now.
She was part of a completely separate life now.

A triumphant grin slipped back across her features.

WOW A SOLO

Audrey stared in through the distorted glass. Everything within the brightly lit chapel was tinted a hazy red. As the girl clutched to the windowsill, breath fogging the scene before her, she felt her fingers itch to tremble even as she willed her body still, stiff as a board as she peered inside.

Everything had gone according to plan. It had been so flawless, these people were so predictable.

Still, as everything had quieted, she could not pry herself from her spot behind the stained-glass figure, gaze unwavering upon the stage where the recent events had played out all under her careful direction. Quiet and stationary as the cadaver her eyes gripped onto so intently, she watched numbly as shadows slowly slipped across the stranger’s body.



It had just been days before that she had set this sequence into motion, the plan hatching as the Auvinian had flittered about the northern town, searching out a proper form of action pertaining to the task at hand. It was a frustrating challenge, one whose most obvious, simplest answer was eliminated within its own text, forbidding an upfront approach. Audrey had been disappointed in this, spiting the parchment that announced her mission, but had taken the assignment to the streets with her, certain she could fulfill what was asked of her without her ‘usual’ methods. She could be clever, she could handle herself, this would be no great feat. She was confident of this as she wandered the icy aisles of the city, eyes peeled, scrutinizing each figure she passed.

Let it be known a cultist is not as easy to spot in a crowd as one may assume. It takes a keen eye, a deeper knowledge, to recognize an Obscuvian without his iconic garb, and this happened to be the most unfortunate case of ‘it takes one to know one’. Surely her years raised within a community of these people would aid her in her search, in addition to the extensive following, listening, and waiting she’d convinced herself she’d need to practice to locate a proper target.
Though, it very much felt like an unusual strike of luck when she’d stumbled across Clarence.

A young man, no older than 18 years, fumbling about in the night had caught the girl’s eye as the dusk had fled to the horizon no more than two nights after she had received her letter from the fellowship. She’d spent all her past waking hours, between the rummaging of a pocket or two, meandering about without leads or following false ones to dead ends and disappointing conclusions. The north, as she knew, was not particularly bustling with Obscuvians, but even in a town as small as this she found it ironic that she so far could not find only one, even while she was actually searching for the damned souls. She’d nearly been at her wits end when the stranger made himself known, wandering out through her line of sight as she’d been muttering about her foul luck, her gaze reaching upward just in time to witness him entering the alley just ahead. His pace was brisk, though uneven, robes flowing like a trail of ink behind him as nervous glances kept his head swiveling about. He was an awkward boy, awkwardly dressed, about at an awkward and certainly unusual hour, alone.

She’d followed him, scurrying up to peek around the corner of the corridor, curious of his frightened disposition, his attire too familiar to ignore. Certainly this could be another poor b*****d simply wandering the streets in an attempt to find his home, she thought, but at this point Audrey would take any suspicious figure she could find, even if suspicious meant fairly helpless looking. If not anything more, perhaps he could at least be an easy pick.
Carefully, with the lightest of footsteps, she’d begun stalking him, passing through alleyways into the deeper reaches of the small city, the danker colder crevasses where she often found herself stowing away during the night. The area became less and less familiar though as she tracked him, the buildings casting different shapes against the sky, her awareness becoming alarmingly shallow. Following this lad was quickly becoming more nerve-racking than she had earlier assumed, as she was no longer sure of the nooks she could duck into, the corners to turn.

It was only upon the arrival of a small building in the slums of the town did Audrey discover her nervous travels may have been worth the mounting unease. Tucked away behind a decrepit home, old brick offering as a shield from the boy’s sight, she leaned forward ever so carefully to take him into her view, a dark figure against the cold stone structure ahead, shuffling toward it. This was his destination, and though the southerner had never been to this place herself, it felt all too familiar.

A local church. Small and modest, composed of pillars of stone, windows dimly lit and warm. As he had approached, she had seen it, a flash of white pulled from the blackness of his garb, the confirmation she had itched to witness. He had donned a mask, wandering toward the wide doors of the establishment like a child to the darkness of the woods, an actor entering his theater, a disciple entering his place of worship. Yes, this was all too familiar, and the way the stranger hovered before the entrance, quiet and weary, sent a twinge of electricity through the air. Tension.

It was only as the entrance cracked open, another shadowy figure sauntering out beneath the broken and faded archway, that the boy timidly slinked within the chapel under the slow, scrutinizing gaze, uneasily hidden beneath porcelain following his figure inside. There was a moment of thoughtful hesitation. The elder paused in his place, the girl retreated behind her shield for fear of being sighted, but his focus did not reach past the threshold. He had stood, held time still, and then turned, passing back through the entryway to join the congregation.

Just as soon as the wooden doors shut behind the cultist, the girl pulled herself out from her hiding place, abandoning the damp brick to step out into the open. Looking on at the place of worship, Audrey was hit with a heavy wave of nostalgia, washing back into a long shrouded corner of her mind. The scenario felt so familiar, the actors, the stage. She has seen that look before, the uneasiness of a newcomer, the suspicion of a faithful. The place, the people were all too similar. She had seen this before, once in her youth, a young man, new and uneasy, decided untrustworthy in the most brutal of communities.

Her lips twitched up into a smile.
Yes. She had lucked out.






The next step was simple: Do what she does best.

After that night Audrey's first and only job was follow this poor stranger about, discreetly, and from a comfortable distance. She was sure of her plan, and of her target, but of course the timing needed to be just right if the whole thing were to go about seamlessly. The only ways to assure this was to be certain of the young man's routine, his agenda, and to utilize it to her advantage. From the very beginning this had been a boring pursuit, hours of laying back outside buildings, attempting to peek through shop windows, and tip-toeing through the icy streets of the city in the hopes of growing closer to her goal. This stalking business was definitely tiring, and left the girl without much opportunity to steal herself a meal, but as another day of her followings came to a close, her hunger finally seemed worth it. A pattern was forming.

The two had found themselves in a familiar place time and time again, returned to the chapel they had visited when this had started. Each night the weary thing would make his way back to the deeper darker districts of the Shyregoadian town, and there he would enter his place of worship, greeted by only one other at the doors. After their first visit, Audrey had come up with enough suspicions and theories of the boy's frequent, lonely visits, and by the time she had sleuthed her way to the safe vantage point of the colourful window to observe the ongoings within, she'd been verified.

It was exactly as expected, and how lucky it truly was.
Within the building only the two figures gathered each of these nights. The mentor and the young a clueless novice; these were lessons, preparations. The shivering young man was a new disciple, needing to learn, required to prove himself. The girl gripping to the frosty ledge outside had seen this routine before. He would soon be faced with some form of trial, some test of devotion, and introduction to the filthy religion of her home so that he could be accepted into obscuvous' inky black embrace.

As the meeting ended he passed out through the columns of the church's archway once again, stepping out into the damp alleyway's dim light, then pausing in his stride. There was a long exhale, a cloud of steam flowing from his mouth into the biting winter air that the girl who watched from afar let her gaze follow up into the atmosphere. As he stepped forward again, beginning the silent journey home, she shadowed him with bright eyes, her energy somehow lifted by this final reassurance. The plague tied tight to her hip swayed and twitched as she moved, and her chapped lips seemed to find themselves stretching into tiny smirks as she felt the thing pick up on her excitement, and even as they cracked, the taste of blood on her teeth could not distract her from the twisted sense of joy that prickled at her cheeks. Everything was so flawless... Tomorrow she could set forward her plan. Yes, tomorrow was the day.




"Come on then...! Take it from me!"

At the end of a darkening alleyway, the two have finally 'met'. The girl cornered, hands gripping a tiny sheath as she gives heavy breaths through bared teeth. The young cloaked boy is before her, wide eyes locked on the thief, fingers trembling at his sides as he makes an equally strained effort to fill his lungs with freezing air. There had been quite a chase involved to get them to this spot; Audrey made sure of that.

Not minutes ago, she had glanced up to the sky, watching colours mingle on the horizon like flags giving important signals. The sun would vanish soon, dipping below the tall cold buildings and fleeing as the night rolled in. Yes, it was time to set her plan into action.She had still been tailing Mr. Clarence once the heavens reached the appropriate hue of red, this time closer, stalking him until the opportune moment.

Now.

Lurching forward, Audrey grasped outward, slipping beneath the man's cape to rip her targeted item off of his belt and fling herself ahead down the street with little grace and much less secrecy. She did not take the time to look back, to be sure that the voices behind her were that of the robbed, or that the footsteps echoing against the cobblestone were that of the man she'd hoped. The girl needed to be quick, and she needed to be cunning in this escape, keeping her gaze before her and her feet beneath her; a wrong turn or loss of footwork would cost her big-time here. There would not be much room for mistakes.

Pushing forward, knuckles hot from gripping at the dagger in her hand, cheeks bitten by the wind as it his her face and whipped her hair behind her, she finally saw her opportunity. Ducking to the side, the urchin pivoted, throwing her weight around a nearby corner and disappearing behind it. It took her no more than a few extra seconds to reach the brick wall halting her at the stretch's end, and it was here that she made sure to use her time most efficiently.

Nimble fingers got to work, pulling glistening blade from it's sheath and her other hand reached into her pocket, retrieving her plague that rested within. Without hesitation, she pressed the blade to the thing, dragging it momentarily along it's base with no more than a whispered, sorry. The tail sputtered, wriggling in her hand as it made an effort to bring itself alive at the treat but with a firm and strangling grip she silenced it, shoving it back into it's place, it's task finished. So far the blood that dripped and reeked from the putescuto seemed no more than a menace, but today it proved to finally be useful as the dagger in her hand glimmered with oily cold taint that she made sure to hide back within it's encasing as she heard the footsteps in the distance grow dangerously near. Yes, it would be convincing enough.

As the man in question finally presented himself, robes trailing behind him as he entered the alleyway, Audrey had to do her best to stifle a grin.

"T-Thief," came his voice echoing down the walls to her, attempting to muster the most aggressive tone he could as he began his way forward," Give that back immediately! I-I mean it! Don't make me hurt you... I've got somewhere to be! I'll let you off if you just hand it over...!"

"No way in hell," she barked back, pulling her back closer the the brick behind her with each step the obscuvian took, her eyes growing wild as the scene unfolded before her. This was surprisingly fun, how well everything was playing out. "You're going to have to take it from me if you want it back!"

He flinches, the response unexpected from the young girl, but he catches himself and begins toward her again. "I don't want to have to fight you...! Just hand it over!"

His eyes fluttered urgently to the darkening sky and back.

"Bluffer," she spits, mocking the man, glaring him down as he loomed closer and closer. " You wouldn't dare think to hit a girl, would you? You're just a bluffer!"

A bell tolls in the distance.

"Just give it back!"

"Come on then...! Take it from me!"

He closes in, and for the first time the girl can consider just how tall the figure before her is, on his face is a look of panic. Perfect.
It is immediately after that moment that all the air escapes from the young girl's lungs, wheezing out of her as the boy's foot slams into her gut. Her fingers uncurl from around the blade, allowing it to drop to the cobblestone below her has her knees buckle and she tumbles down herself. She gives a dry, winded cough as she hits the street, and the Shyregoadian above her hovers only a moment in horrified sympathy before recognizing the absence of the sun and hastily reaching for his stolen item.

Audrey watches with watery eyes as the boy flees back out to the main road and disappears behind the building just ahead. She attempts to laugh, but it just becomes winded silence as she pushes herself up to sit. Still, she is smiling.

The embarrassment would be worth it.





Audrey still clutched to the ledge of the massive window, breath held, eyes unwavering as they peered through the tinted glass.

She had watched her whole scheme unfold from this very spot, voices echoing through the walls to reach listening ears, gaze locked firmly on the violent performance that had taken place within. The girl had arrived at the church not long after her victim had, scrambling her way there just after he had. Her thievery had made him late to this, an important appointment, and the shame and worry on his face were the first thing she had witnessed upon reaching her place in the 'audience'. From that point on Audrey did not need to even lift a finger, everything had already been set into motion, and as the elder looked disappointingly down at the poor soul before him she knew things would play out as she had predicted.

So why is it that she remains silent, still, no signs of her victory displayed on her expression after the task was done?

Not everything had gone exactly as predicted. She had not anticipated the twist this plot-line would present, nor the empty, sinking feeling that would accumulate in her gut once the scene had ended.

Yes, the chapel was now empty, yes there was a body to loot, but not the one she had expected.

No more than some fifteen odd minutes ago had Clarence arrived in the dark nook of town where his destination stood. He'd stopped short of the building, staring up at it with heavy breaths, attempting to catch his wind as he still clutched the knife he had just recently reclaimed tight in his fingers. Pulling the thing into view, he surveyed it for the first time since he had picked it up and fled from the girl he left curled up in the alley. He was simply checking it, being sure it was still intact after the event, but when he exposed the blade the the cold open air he did not witness what he had expected. Nose wrinkling is disgust, eyes big, he nearly dropped the weapon as the black, reeking blood made itself visible upon the once shining metal. Afraid to further examine the stuff, he quickly banished it back within the sheath it had earlier been encased within, shuttering to think what the foul stuff might be, his stomach twisting in perplexed fear. What had that girl done to it...?

This was when he had been distracted by the opening of the establishment's doors, the usual figure standing at the threshold, beckoning the boy in. Shoving the putrid item back into one of the inner pockets of his robes, he immediately gave a nod and shuffled inside.

The young man and his teacher had spoken for a long time, discussing Clarence's lateness. He had given a great deal of awkward, nervous excuses, and a great deal more apologies. His mentor only replied with irritated questions, remarks of his rudeness, and what Audrey could only assume were dissatisfied glances and furrowing of brows beneath the mask that hid his face. Before too much time had passed though, it was announced that the mustn't waste candle marks on the debate. There was much to do on this particular night.

This was when the boy was asked to present his knife.
Looking up with bright, confused eyes, there was a long moment of hesitation. Nothing seemed to move as the northerner's mind reeled at the request, the hand extended before him like some strange puzzle. He'd parted his lips then, as if beginning to as why before he was interrupted by a firm repetition of the order, the hand curling then reasserting itself in further insistence. A flinch, another nervous pause, then fumbling. As the young man finally managed to retrieve the thing from his robes, he stared down at it as it rested within the palms of his hands, jaw tight and heart drumming in his skull. Looking back up to the bird-like figure above him, he gingerly extended his arms, fingers shaking ever so slightly as the item was snatched from his grasp.

This was the moment of truth. The escalation of energy in the air that the girl had awaited ever so patiently out in the snow. As the elder took the blade into his hands, drawing it, and peering down at it's tainted blade through the gaps of his porcelain face, the electricity in the air reached even outside the walls of the chapel, making the hairs on the back of the aunivian girl's neck nearly stand on end.

It was a strange calm at first, words only exchanged in tight, quiet voices before it became a flurry of inquiries and accusations. Was he hiding this from him all along? Had he been a liar? Was he mocking him with all his excuses and meek apologies? Clarence scrambled backward as the man closes in on him, his volume growing along with his anger. This blade fumed death...!

Fear shook the young northerner as he pleaded innocence, his ignorance, how he had just discovered the strange substance only minutes ago! The girl, it must have been the girl! There was no deception here, he would never...! Despite the sincerity in his voice, the situation was simply far to suspicious. He'd seemed far to suspicious from the very start. He would not be let off easy.

This was when the masked figure leaned in, reaching forward as if to threaten, and in a fit of panic, Clarence lashed out.
Sending the man staggering back, blade relinquished from his grasp as it clattered to the floor, the boy staggered to his feet, rushing away from his place before his 'attacker' and to where the item shimmered against what dim light still flickered within the room.

Watching so silently from a distance, Audrey witnessed as the blade was plunged into the blackness of the elder's garb, sinking into his hidden flesh one, two, three brutal times before collapsing in a pile of fabric onto the hardwood floor. There she observed as he writhed and sputtered, the boy above him looming, shaking, fingers loosening so the bloodied knife could slip from his grasp to hit the ground as well. He gave a heave, as if become ill but quickly pulled his hands to his mouth, forbidding himself from vomiting, but instead stayed hunched, still aside from the sobs that eventually seemed to shake at his frame.







Quiet and stationary as the cadaver her eyes gripped onto so intently, she watched numbly as shadows slowly slipped across the stranger’s body.

The boy had eventually fled, exiting the building with great haste, escaping into the night with as fleet a foot he could. All was now quiet. The body had ceased it's gurgling, the church was without movement nor sound, and even as the girl looked down upon her ultimate victory, she could not will herself to move. She awaited the pride to hit her, the elation, but nothing came but the icy whispers of the wind tussling her hair every so often to remind her of the passing time. It wasn't until a great amount of commotion jostling within her pocket caught her attention that she was able to rip her gaze from the contents of the chapel.

The tail was twisting about, wriggling and riling about until it had pulled itself free of it's fabric cage, leaping out into the snow and scurrying away from it's master.

"Wait...! What are you doing," came a harsh, urgent hiss, the child afraid of speaking in much more than a hushed tone, but her calls after the plague came to no avail as it rounded the corner of the building. Audrey removed herself from her spot on the ledge, hitting the ground running as the creature scampered out of view, it's lack of supervision panicking her. She chased after it, whipping around to the front of the building just in time to watch as the thing slipped through the still-open entrance, and following suit.

Nearly the instant she entered the room, her steps became slow, coming all the way to a halt. No longer blurred through distorted glass, she gazed upon the body no more than a few extra paces before her. The tail was running circles about it, tiny black feet soaking up blood each time it finished a lap and touched upon where the man continued to bleed out onto the floor. Before long it closed in on it's 'prey' attempting to wrap impossibly small jaws around what little exposed flesh could be seen, gnawing away at his skin.

Moving forward again, she stopped by the man's side, kneeling down beside him as she stared into his empty, pale 'face'. He had deserved this. All of them deserved this. He would have just done it to another if she hadn't set this whole thing up. It would had happened to stupid young Clarence regardless of if she'd set him up or not. This she could be sure of. She'd done good for him, scaring him off, and done good for the world by letting this man die.

After hovering, glaring down upon the dead obscuvian, these thoughts rushing through her mind, he eventually lifted a hand. Reaching ever so carefully toward his face, she allowed her fingers to slip beneath the mask, brushing his skin for the slightest of moments before claiming her prize. Audrey couldn't help but look away as she removed the disguise, though. She found herself wincing, twisting her head to the side as she pulled the thing close to her. It still felt somewhat warm, traces of body heat still clinging to the material, but quickly fading. When her eyes fluttered open, her eyes consumed a sight more unsettling than the face she desperately refused to look upon.

The altar loomed menacingly ahead of her, candles lit and dancing against the form of her accursed god as if to mock her. Her stomach sank as the idol stared down upon her. It felt almost as if it were judging her, her actions, the item held in her grasp, the man whose warmth was withering away below her.

She scrambled backward a foot, eyes locked on the god before tearing them away. Grabbing for her plague who still was distracted by the fresh cadaver and ripping it from the body she struggled to get to her feet before turning her back to the display at the end of the room. No. She was right. This was right. It was different from them. She wasn't like them. This was for the best. This was for good.

Telling herself this again and again, Audrey dashed out of the building, escaping from the judgments that seemed to pour over her. Returning the tail to her pocket, and clutching her mission's goal tight to her chest as she fled, she attempted to banish the fear and doubt that was collecting in her mind.

It was all for the sake of good... Her good. The world's good...Even that boy's good.

He was lucky she'd taught him the dangers of that disgusting chapel, of that horrid religion.

He was lucky.