[Kazuha's senses, mired in recollections of the past, jolt painfully back to awareness the moment he draws his sword. This man smells of blood and death--some part of Kazuha's mind had sensed it already, mistakenly ascribed it to the surrounding forest, but no. He's sure of it the moment he lays eyes on him: the scent is coming from this man. It's not the sweetness of decay or the nauseating sour scent of gore, but something subtler, difficult to place. Like an olfactory version of the chalk outline at a murder scene, contouring the negative space where a person's natural odor might once have been and is no more. It sends a chill down Kazuha's spine, all the tiny hairs on his arms abruptly standing on end, and his grip on his sword is not as firm as he would like it to be.
The force of the man's gaze upon him makes a single word resound through the fog to the forefront of his mind: prey.
Kazuha thought he knew what it was to be hunted; he realizes now that he was wrong. He had merely been pursued. This, that hungry look in the man's eyes, this is a hunt. And Kazuha has no illusions about where he falls on the food chain.
Then, in an instant, it is gone. The intensity fades from the eyes of his would-be killer, like brushing away the remnants of a bad dream. Previously more beast than man, he seems suddenly, painfully human. The sheer strangeness of the shift is enough to make the thrumming paranoia in Kazuha's head scream for him to take this chance and flee, and a slight breeze kicks up in the region of his feet, muscles tensing in preparation.
He doesn't move, though. This man, whatever else he may be, is also the first sign of life he's found since entering the forest. However dangerous his company, Kazuha is loathe to give it up just yet. There is something reassuringly solid about the threat he offers: it's rooted in the present moment, something Kazuha can see and feel, fight against if necessary. Not like the specters in his head or the winding forest paths that only ever lead back to where he started.
Perhaps, if he can defuse this situation, they might even be of help to one another. Two animals may be predator and prey in the wild, and yet join forces to escape a trap that has ensnared them both. As for whether the rabbit can outrun the wolf, once they are freed... well, that remains to be seen.
Kazuha's eyes track the movement of the knife as the pale man speaks. His sword shifts ever so slightly, grip adjusting to something looser and more adaptable, and he tilts his head as though listening for something else behind the meaning of the words.
Flatly, he asks:] Oh really? Who did you mistake me for?
[The tone is not hostile, but it is certainly not charmed.]
no subject
The force of the man's gaze upon him makes a single word resound through the fog to the forefront of his mind: prey.
Kazuha thought he knew what it was to be hunted; he realizes now that he was wrong. He had merely been pursued. This, that hungry look in the man's eyes, this is a hunt. And Kazuha has no illusions about where he falls on the food chain.
Then, in an instant, it is gone. The intensity fades from the eyes of his would-be killer, like brushing away the remnants of a bad dream. Previously more beast than man, he seems suddenly, painfully human. The sheer strangeness of the shift is enough to make the thrumming paranoia in Kazuha's head scream for him to take this chance and flee, and a slight breeze kicks up in the region of his feet, muscles tensing in preparation.
He doesn't move, though. This man, whatever else he may be, is also the first sign of life he's found since entering the forest. However dangerous his company, Kazuha is loathe to give it up just yet. There is something reassuringly solid about the threat he offers: it's rooted in the present moment, something Kazuha can see and feel, fight against if necessary. Not like the specters in his head or the winding forest paths that only ever lead back to where he started.
Perhaps, if he can defuse this situation, they might even be of help to one another. Two animals may be predator and prey in the wild, and yet join forces to escape a trap that has ensnared them both. As for whether the rabbit can outrun the wolf, once they are freed... well, that remains to be seen.
Kazuha's eyes track the movement of the knife as the pale man speaks. His sword shifts ever so slightly, grip adjusting to something looser and more adaptable, and he tilts his head as though listening for something else behind the meaning of the words.
Flatly, he asks:] Oh really? Who did you mistake me for?
[The tone is not hostile, but it is certainly not charmed.]