[Changes were all around, weren't they? And with them came more important things than the apartments themselves. More important things that could, potentially, put an end to some of the strangeness going on around here. There's an odd sense of disconnect; one minute, things made sense, the next they didn't. What he's looking for isn't here. That fact that he can't find it, can't find her is more than just a bit angering.
A long story made quite short, he hadn't been in his apartment, not for some time. The last thing anyone needed was to see Dante fight his own personal demon. Much less Sparda himself. And Sparda always had been stronger. Seeing the images, though, that triggered something-- something recognizable. The behavior, mostly the face.
The difference in the man approaching the door was more evident. Hair slicked back. Lacking in that sharp, caustic nature wrapped up in read leather and gunpowder. More sophisticated. The crisp sound of well-kept boots along the hallway floor, eventually, a dead give-away. Just as much as the scent. The body is still the same, not the spirit.
Instinct is a strong force and it's the child's (that's all I ever was to you, wasn't I, old man?). Sparda, of all, knew that. Pale brows arch silently; Aiden will give him all the signals he needs to know.]
[The buck was whole, unmarked aside from the distinct bite marks along the nasal ridge to suggest that she suffocated it. She didn't have her normal weapons, her spears and knives were gone, leaving her with only her fangs and claws. The scent of the old woods were gone, her home, her clan's home for generations uncounted was gone. Someone had captured her and dragged her away to a strange land where she could smell the death that lingered, hear the voices of lost souls on the faintest breeze.
Too many shadows wandered this place, too many that were unnamed. There was no room for fear in her heart, the young cub who murmured plaintively in her mind had enough for the both of them. At the sound of Sparda's boots she stood, staring down the hall as she waited, ears alert. She could smell the darkness in him, the black taint that painted the inside of her mouth and nose, yet something held it back. Safe, the young cub said. What she saw in this one Aiden could not understand, but still she felt compelled.
When Sparda drew closer, she stepped back, giving the alpha room to assess the kill. Her ears and tail tucked in reverence, she knelt, waiting for him to accept the offering. The leader always took the first cut, the other hunters waited until they were given the blessing of the leader.]
A long story made quite short, he hadn't been in his apartment, not for some time. The last thing anyone needed was to see Dante fight his own personal demon. Much less Sparda himself. And Sparda always had been stronger. Seeing the images, though, that triggered something-- something recognizable. The behavior, mostly the face.
The difference in the man approaching the door was more evident. Hair slicked back. Lacking in that sharp, caustic nature wrapped up in read leather and gunpowder. More sophisticated. The crisp sound of well-kept boots along the hallway floor, eventually, a dead give-away. Just as much as the scent. The body is still the same, not the spirit.
Instinct is a strong force and it's the child's (that's all I ever was to you, wasn't I, old man?). Sparda, of all, knew that. Pale brows arch silently; Aiden will give him all the signals he needs to know.]
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Too many shadows wandered this place, too many that were unnamed. There was no room for fear in her heart, the young cub who murmured plaintively in her mind had enough for the both of them. At the sound of Sparda's boots she stood, staring down the hall as she waited, ears alert. She could smell the darkness in him, the black taint that painted the inside of her mouth and nose, yet something held it back. Safe, the young cub said. What she saw in this one Aiden could not understand, but still she felt compelled.
When Sparda drew closer, she stepped back, giving the alpha room to assess the kill. Her ears and tail tucked in reverence, she knelt, waiting for him to accept the offering. The leader always took the first cut, the other hunters waited until they were given the blessing of the leader.]
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