WOLVES WITHOUT TEETH ( geralt of rivia.. )

009. bloodbath and evil thoughts..

"The odds are not against us yet, if we are intelligent," as Sylvain spoke, across the mountain, in the drainage system, his men split in two at the first crossroads of the tunnel. "Hołopole is only as strong as a massive shepherd, only a threat for its allies and liege, rather than personal avant-garde."

"To the left go those who clear the gates," he continued. "Lock the towers at the signal received when on a shorter road, those who went to the right secure the beacons. Hołopole has one tower guarded when in case of siege, gets lit on a fire so tall it reaches Hengfors. No..."

The Arcapan steel drove itself through the throats of the Hołopole guards by the beacon tower. Heads rolled on the ground where blood was spilled to fall over the stone to the valley of an asleep population. Above, the castle was quiet too and no security was held. Hołopole was made out of feared, but respected merchants. No one wished to wage war with them, nor did they ever expect the violence.

"No help will come for Hołopole tonight," Sylvain sighed.

Shock was written over Geoffrey's features. "No prisoners?"

A bird-similar whistle blew from the beacon tower through the drainage system, where it echoed until a faint pitched sound reach the one hundred who turned left. The archers blew the arrows throw the railings, cut the ropes and smashed the doors closed on all positioned entries they have settled in to wait.

Four big entries got closed, one by one, boom by boom. Then the railings kicked open and the confused wall watchers were the subject of a battle without cries, just gashes and slashes and the fulfillment of an element of surprise.

"I don't have use for prisoners," Sylvain answered, carelessly.

A wolf's howl belonged to the mountains and to Azaras' recent dreams. She thought at first the wolf she kept seeing in her sleep, staring at her, stepping into the light was Geralt, but night after night, though the eyes shone yellow, she realized it made no sense to see him darker grey, when his hair was milk white. It was a matter of ponder that had her wishing the moon was not almost full above.

A hint of superstitious manner made Azaras' heart falter in thought of what would come to be on the full moon, perhaps just two days away from them and their long ride, shared now uncomfortably on just one horse. Roach was strong and Azaras enjoyed any sort of warming closeness in the cutting winds of the snow enveloped continent, but there was only so many hours on a saddled made for one that could add up together and not leave bruises.

She took a gentle, loose hold of the reins when the awareness has drained Geralt of strength. While she insisted on a stop, he argued he'd get his rest while they keep going, as they might not find the helper unless they hurry. Forced by circumstances, his forehead fell heavily on Azaras' shoulder.

His arms would guard her if she cought sense of herself to sleep, but in his case, Azaras could only fear on every second that the Witcher would fall over, at any stringer step, at any pace change or wrong breath she took.

"You're not breathing," Geralt grumbled his frustration out to hear Azaras' very heartbeat slow down intentionally, while she held her breath. If he listed carefully, unfocused from the world when his eyes closed, he could hear her struggle to stay straight, only so her shoulder may support him better.

He breathed in and before he could break free of the instinctual behaviors, the faint breeze of lavender drew his nose closer to her black of hair. So much he'd sell to braid that hair for her, comb it through or tie it himself, but he dared not ask such things, far less admit to enjoying the calm she brought to him effortlessly.

Because she smelled of many things beyond that sleeping purple; she had been riding the same horse as him so if Geralt waited long enough, he could distinguish his own smell onto her skin, cramped in with the static stench of stable, of the sweat of being wraped in his fur in the middle of her sleep when she would shiver and not even his arms could cease that shake.