Bloodlust tanks and the crave gets slaked. [OPEN]
WHO: Cross, and whoever finds him.
WHAT: He runs.
WHERE: Near the edges of the city.
WHEN: In the middle of the night.
There wasn't much Cross could do besides run.
He left the book where he was--by now he'd slipped out of the Jackal's Cask and headed off to some abandoned building to deal with the problems himself, but obviously that hadn't worked too well--and began to run.
The weather was heavy; warm and humid, a light drizzle in the air. Some puddles on the ground from a short rain earlier that afternoon; heedless of them the General's heavy boots splashed through as he moved swiftly about the city, making his way to the edges of it now. When he could, he willed himself to make a wrong turn or move through some sort of obstacle to slow himself down, but he knew that couldn't force himself to run and run and run around in these awkward circles forever. But maybe he could exhaust himself...
The blood pumped him with power, however. Something he'd never felt before, completely unlike Innocence, or Mana's curse. Only just now was he feeling a toll on his body from running so hard and fast, after a good three or so hours of it, panting softly as he came to a slow stop near an empty building, finally realizing just how much his calves burning.
It was night now. Another bout of rain beginning to break through the clouds, sweat and water making red hair cling to his forehead and cheeks. Glancing around slowly, holding onto his chest, he contemplated... reasoning--more like fighting, really--inside his head why he should or should not go. It was, after all, best not to venture into the jungle at this hour. But of Zikhadhara was on his side now...
No. He shook his head, violently, and lifted a hand to rub his forehead. He could. Not let this completely take him. He could not...
Cross did not know what to feel.
Taking a heavy, shaky breath, he bowed his head down then, trying to will his heart to calm. But it still called to him. Called to him to push on, to come to it...
He began to walk again, swiftly, turning down an alley behind the building.
WHAT: He runs.
WHERE: Near the edges of the city.
WHEN: In the middle of the night.
There wasn't much Cross could do besides run.
He left the book where he was--by now he'd slipped out of the Jackal's Cask and headed off to some abandoned building to deal with the problems himself, but obviously that hadn't worked too well--and began to run.
The weather was heavy; warm and humid, a light drizzle in the air. Some puddles on the ground from a short rain earlier that afternoon; heedless of them the General's heavy boots splashed through as he moved swiftly about the city, making his way to the edges of it now. When he could, he willed himself to make a wrong turn or move through some sort of obstacle to slow himself down, but he knew that couldn't force himself to run and run and run around in these awkward circles forever. But maybe he could exhaust himself...
The blood pumped him with power, however. Something he'd never felt before, completely unlike Innocence, or Mana's curse. Only just now was he feeling a toll on his body from running so hard and fast, after a good three or so hours of it, panting softly as he came to a slow stop near an empty building, finally realizing just how much his calves burning.
It was night now. Another bout of rain beginning to break through the clouds, sweat and water making red hair cling to his forehead and cheeks. Glancing around slowly, holding onto his chest, he contemplated... reasoning--more like fighting, really--inside his head why he should or should not go. It was, after all, best not to venture into the jungle at this hour. But of Zikhadhara was on his side now...
No. He shook his head, violently, and lifted a hand to rub his forehead. He could. Not let this completely take him. He could not...
Cross did not know what to feel.
Taking a heavy, shaky breath, he bowed his head down then, trying to will his heart to calm. But it still called to him. Called to him to push on, to come to it...
He began to walk again, swiftly, turning down an alley behind the building.