**i'm really only looking for in-depth critiques on this, but any kind of feedback is welcome. **
1/21 - (for the kind someone who is actually considering reading this lol) i haven't been able to update this the last couple of weeks because of midterms and all so i'd really appreciate it and love it if you could come back another day for when i update to review! thank you <33
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The world was bathed in blue beneath the black-navy night sky. Beautiful were the heavens - lightly peppered with stars and the moon was strung high above the earth, like a queen among celestial subjects. There were none on the earth that moved- save one. It was neither the reeds anchored in the bog nor the trees shedding the last of their auburn leaves, but a youth. He moved swiftly across the hills’ bloated faces, dodging or hiding behind twisted rocks that protruded from the ground like molars. He moved quickly like a rabbit hiding from a hunter's dogs but unbeknownst to him, he was being watched by the wolf.
Towering many hundreds of feet above the ground was a nigh impenetrable barrier- a monolith of pure rock that encircled Renegade territory and separated it from the outside world. The bowl’s curvature was riddled with hundreds of caves, but only the largest were visible to those on the ground; however, they were still likened to freckles on a face, so massive was the earthen structure. The caves were perfect for hiding, sleeping, and spying. Peering out from one of the many alcoves was a pair of eyes, pale as aquamarine gemstones.
Noah sat and watched the boy, her limber body bent over like a cattail in the breeze. She seemed static, save for her shifting eyes, which moved with every step – no, every breath the boy made. From her vantage point she noted every characteristic of the boy: tight brown curls clung to his head like snails; a handsome jaw line jutted from his olive skin; he had thin red lips which were parted in exhaustion; he had two muted, emerald eyes housed beneath two, prominent brow ridges. He was slender for his age, yet appeared much larger with his ragged cloak billowing behind him. Despite being able to see every detail on his very human face from afar, Noah likened the boy to an eagle fighting the wind.
“How admirable.” If the Crags could speak, they would sound just like Noah- icy and formidably sharp. Faint sarcasm flew from her mouth, lost in a squall of frigid wind. Hunched over the edge of the cave in a catlike position- her knees bent and her elbows crossed prettily against her knees- she continued. “But, can you get across the river?” Her mouth turned upwards as she watched the boy conquer the last hump of dead earth and was confronted by a river that spanned over a hundred yards. His brows knit in potted frustration when he caught sight of the frothing rapids.
“He won’t get passed the river with that scrawny body of his,” a satin voice said, drifting from the abysmal gloom to the mouth of the cave like an ominous breeze. “Don’t worry about him.”
Noah turned halfway towards her hidden companion, her eyes narrowing as if silently telling her companion to shut-up. In the wake of the ensuing silence, her lips puckered in unease - chubby, salmon colored lips that parted and closed with a loud pop. Her thoughts were as dark as her expression: I’ll kill him myself – then, I’ll toss him in the river to rot.
With her feet beginning to ache, Noah rocked backwards onto her rear, resting her elbows on her thighs and perching her head onto clenched fists.
It took this human a mere forty minutes to cross the tree line and knolls, a task so arduous and draining it would normally take a non-native an hour and a half at the least to conquer. What disturbed Noah wasn't the fact that this boy passed the border and knolls at all, but the fact that he was the second to have done so.
This was the second non-companioned human to cross the borders within this month alone.
Remembering the first released a flood of memories, and Noah's lips stretched taut against her face as if attempting to stopper the cascade. But, it was too late.
In her mind’s eye came the image of his silhouette, stocky and full of muscle. He reminded one of a rhino from his frame to his skin, the latter being of a gray pallor, to his black saucer eyes. Having heaved himself onto the river’s shore, the man had clocked in at the littoral after about two hours. His forehead had gleamed with sweat, his skin slick and burnished like oiled leather, and his chest had been ballooning with air because - unlike the boy- he hadn’t been made for clambering through the outlands.
Noah killed this man that looked like a rhino. She couldn't even remember his name, but Noah clearly remembered the distress on his face: lucid emotion drawn across him like a shadow.
After she had dispatched the man-with-the-forgotten-name, Noah let Paris have his way with him but alas, he could not get a read off his body.
Paris wasn’t anything special, being neither intimidating nor especially handsome. He resembled a boy with his small build and androgynous features- a heart-shaped face fair in complexion, his cheeks framed by copper tresses, and long eyelashes that sprouted from hazel eyes.
While he was quite innocuous to an outside eye, fellow Renegades like Noah knew ‘extraordinary’ wasn’t seen in Paris’ looks, but in his hands. “Psychometry” is what he called it; however, Bron described him as being “a watered down, telepathic reject”. Although Paris was psychic he could only read dead bodies. Most of the time he was summoned after a kill to ‘harvest’ information. If he was present right at the moment of death Paris was more than capable of learning the victim’s name, snippets of their last thoughts, and, most importantly, their affiliation. He was like a “supernatural, cognizant coroner”, another illustration of Paris courtesy of Bron.
But there was a rumor – an ugly rumor - commonly heard within the Renegades and the outside world. The rumor said Paris read people while they still lay alive, dying and begging for his help. According to the rumor, Paris watched his victims’ dying frenzy, absorbing their curses and squeals as if with carnal pleasure. According to the rumor, Paris was a stone-cold killer, a murderer- an animal. According to the rumor, the rumor itself was pure fact; however, Noah and the other Renegades knew full well that Paris’ job within the group tore him apart inside.
“Damn, Noah, you should’ve called me before you killed him.” Paris had tsked in frustration. A paradoxical frown had spanned across his youthful face. Crouched alongside the fallen body with his hands clamped on its wrist, Paris had then sighed and half turned towards Noah. “Perhaps you were having too much fun?” he had asked, his voice low and muffled against the wind. His tone made it sound more like a statement. Although one eyebrow had been quirked comically, the eye beneath the chestnut-haired arc had been without its usual humored twinkle.
The river’s roaring had filled the silence that swelled like an ugly wound between the two.
A moment’s more silence and Noah had then combed her hair backward- a raven black mane like a lioness’ from hell. One always knew there was some sort of emotion running through the girl whenever she did that, no matter how small a spark it was.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Paris,” Noah said, matching Paris’ even tenor. “You and I both know there are things far more fun than killing things we hate.” Her voice had been stiff with contempt as she turned away from the psychic - whose head shook with pity - and started for the alcoves.
Even long after the man-with-the-forgotten-name had been swept away, her remark remained to fester and decompose in the body’s stead.
That incident had not been more than four weeks ago and still the humans sent another courier. What could possibly be going on? Noah thought mutely while her eyes now watched the boy promenade the river’s edge with intermittent glances over his shoulder, debating fervently whether to jump into the water and challenge the current or find some sort of other route. Noah smiled in a somewhat dour yet entertained way as if she was watching a spar between a master and an underdog. She knew, without a doubt, that there was no other pathway to the other side and should he choose to brave the water, it was not only the current that hungered for him but something else and far more dark; a demise wholly more agonizing than drowning would ever be.
To Noah’s great and utter surprise though, the unnamed youth unexpectedly clutched his face as if in mourning and yelled in frustration, “Damned barbarians - why don’t you come out of hiding?” An eerie hush replied back. Beet-faced and enraged, he roared to no one in particular but faced a copse at the base of one of the closest hills where he apparently thought his audience was. But, to Noah’s amusement, he actually had his back turned toward the niche where his observers were rendezvousing in.
“Noah, you should kill him now before Bron catches wind of this ruckus.” Despite the drapery of shadows concealing the dozing companion, someone familiar with the beast like Noah could detect the subtle tenseness in her voice.
“You can’t seriously be afraid of that brute, Kyriè,” Noah sneered jokingly, her mouth upturned at one corner to reveal a gleam of white teeth. “If that’s the case, maybe I should just go find a different partner.”
“Oh no - please don’t do that. It’s just…” she trailed off, murmuring a couple of false starts to herself before settling with,” Just, you know it won’t be good for either the boy or us if he shows up.”
Staring into the darkness, and in the general direction of her friend, a considerate and knowing smile graced Noah’s face before she gave a small nod of silent agreement. At that moment, the young man began to chuck rocks and branches wildly at the rogue bunch of trees over 120 yards away from where he stood. Their skinny bodies huddled together as if cowering from his aggressive attacks, but none of his earthy weapons actually hit them.
Noah rose to her feet and extended her arms above her head in an attempt to stretch off the numbness she was feeling. Her feet hovering over the lips of the cave, preparing to make her descent, she stopped herself at the last moment.
“Wait,” she quickly turned around as she realized her friend intended to accompany her. “Let me take care of this. He’s practically no threat to me; I can take him out easy.”
“What? Are you sure?” Kyriè’s voice was full of uncertainty and her ocher eyes, now discernable through the shade, mirrored her doubt.
With an animated nod and a wave of her hands, Noah dismissed her friend’s worries. “Oh, I’ve done it before and come on- look at him.” She motioned her head in emphasis.
Kyriè answered with her eyes, shifting from Noah’s face to the valley below where the boy was.
“Just - watch me from here and you can come rescue me if the boy manages to best me.” There was an annoyed edge to her voice and, without waiting for a response, Noah hurtled out of the cave’s mouth and towards the plain below.
The bear, now fully visible in the muted sunlight, lumbered hurriedly to where her companion stood moments before with a look of utter frustration. “Don’t be so cocky and come back in one piece!” she bellowed after the freefalling body. Shaking her head as a mother would after her rebellious daughter, the large creature sat back, huffing to herself. “Or two, for all it matters… just come back alive.”
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FILLER— JUST UNSURE HOW TO TRANSITION FROM SCENE ABOVE TO SCENE BELOW.
Though her arms shook with tension, Noah managed to snake her head around the mess of fingers and steel. With an expression full of derisive curiosity, Noah began to assess her opponent's figure; her eyes flit about his body like a hummingbird jumping from lily to lily.
Jericho, however, could only see a black curtain of jittering eyelashes. He could only wonder and hope to anticipate what she could be planning. "What are you - ?" the man began to snarl between clenched teeth. His eyes were like blistering hellfire and the sweat that dewed his face was like molten earth straight from the planet’s core.
Glaring silver eyes and gnashing teeth cut Jericho off. “What are you?” The last word tore through the air; it was a guttural snarl that still rumbled in Noah's throat even as she paused to catch her breath. Another skim across his body and she looked back at him with a devious smile and a sarcastic taint in her voice. “…five foot eight?”
Then, with an enormous burst of strength, Noah extended her arms and pushed against Jericho, who stumbled backward in a drunken fashion. How the hell did she do that?! Shock – more shock to hide the awe – was strewn across the guy's face.
Noah sprang back up into an upward standing position with her hands resting by her sides. Her clawed-gloves seemed to stare menacingly at Jericho - her fingers were like lips framing the cloves’ curved smiles and their fully bared teeth. “You’re built like a girl, mate.” She jeered at him like a hyena- her body buckled over and her lips peeled back in a guffaw with her hands clutching her middle. Her hair danced around her shoulders like falling water- like black water, filled with plague.
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