Silver Hound, Black Moon

Unimaginable distances

The furnace began to cool as Havelock and Sif wheezed to each other, each of them leaning against the different tables and benches in the shed. It was done, they were finished, all the firepower and weaponry they'd set out to make was complete, and for all their hard work, Havelock just had a sore back. Hours and hours spent hammering and yammering at each other, the passing of time a mystery amidst the sealike sky.

"That's that," He said, wrapping two tungsten firearms in leather and stuffing them into a satchel "No time for testing I suppose?"

"None... now we rest... and think about what to do when she arrives,"

"I suppose... but will we even be able to kill her?"

"She bleeds, anything that bleeds can be killed,"

Havelock chuckled in disbelief as he packed up more of his things, putting his coat back on and looking at his bloody hands.

"We have no proof she's even alive in the first place.." He mused

Sif stood to her full height as well and began to mimic him almost, packing things away, decluttering the forge. She picked up her new bow and wrapped it up with her new sword, both of them engraved, ancestral weapons of war. They were much to her liking, designed for a creature of her size and power, a short sword longer than any other, and a bow with a draw weight nearing 4 digits.

"She has surprise too, I can't smell her coming, like she is devoid of filth entirely,"

Havelock stopped "Wait... none at all?"

Sif nodded.

"Then could she be animated by some other means? Something separate from the essence of life?"

"Impossible,"
"Yes, but It would explain a lot, you can't kill something that's already dead, hence why shooting her through the skull only tickled,"

"I... this is unscientific Havelock, I can't think of a way to make a corpse walk and talk like she does, nor will theorising about it get you any closer to your real task,"

Havelock's train of filth laden thought was derailed as she reminded him. "The cure..." He mumbled to himself and looked back at his house. He'd been slacking, avoiding the possibility of another hospital fiasco.

"I'm still stumped Sif... and I need subjects anyway, ones I can't get from the hospital, not with so many people around and Caroline breathing down my neck..." He said with a grim look on his face, one that Sif noticed with a twitched brow

"You're afraid?"

"Yeah, I am.... Not hard to see why though is it?"

She approached and leaned on the wall, offering a comforting, soft gaze into his eyes.

"When I was afraid... well, I say 'was' but in truth I still kind of do... I would pretend that I was human... it solved all my problems for me, no more hunters, no reason to fear, no more... impulses to worry about. what do you do?"

"I... I make things... I guess... I take care of stuff... takes my mind off it"

Sif smirked "Then it's a good thing you're being asked to make something... no?"

Lancard was through with being the errand boy of two hunters. Like the carrier crow he sent off just hours ago, he was stuck delivering messages, ordered around by powers out of his control. Whatever... he wasn't going to put up with it anymore... in fact, he wasn't going to put up with anything anymore. Passing under a grand wall that didn't do nearly enough to protect them, Lancard noted that Lothorn looked a lot darker than usual. On a normal, regular day, it was gloomy and oppressive, the past few days, it had been malevolent and astral... now, it was... gone. Well, obviously the city was still there, but it seemed so absent, the lights weren't on, the streetlamps were dim and it seemed as if every single person, even those brave enough to stare into the void, were staying off the streets. Lothorn was quiet by nature, but only when a whole city is silent can one really understand just how much noise there usually was.