The Mustache and The Beard

She dropped her head, closing her eye and forcing the tears back. That one moment...it brought back everything. Her family. Her friends. Her small town, the one she called home, the one that was gone now. The event that had convinced her that all monsters were dangerous - especially werewolves. Regardless of anything else. It brought back the fights, the struggle, making her way on the streets alone with nothing but her and that fiery hatred that had started to burn somewhere so visceral she didn't even know where it began or where it ended. Kolvar's laugh, his hand extended towards her, the moments they'd shared out in the field with his horse or his sword. When he'd taught her not to hate.

And then when all those lessons died in the last moments of her and his body dead on the floor.

"Sometimes...I wonder...I wonder what would've happened if I'd just listened to him instead of to...my pain," she said quietly. "How many...lives...would be saved. How many wouldn't."

James bit his lip, frowning. The things she was saying, though her situation dramatically different to his, felt very familiar. His thoughts dwelled in the same stream, the one that turned all of his actions back against him and barraged him with guilt and shame. The kind of shame that hung around your neck like a weight you carried with you wherever you went. He drew nearer a few steps, coming beside her.

“You can’t change the past,” he said, still speaking quietly, just above a whisper. “And I know how... it hurts to think of what could’ve been, though it’s not. The what-ifs can really get to you. But... I know you’ll find your way, and someday, learn to forgive yourself. But for now... whatever it is that burdens you, whatever it is you want to share... I’m here.”

If he was being honest, the offer intimidated him. He knew he could barely manage to carry his own regrets, but he knew it was better for Tasha in the long run. And maybe, it would help him to grow... beyond himself.

She sighed and wiped her face on the back of her hand, shaking her head. "I just...I've been hunting monsters since I was fourteen, and I thought...what I was doing, it was right, and I...I don't know anymore. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm telling you this, it's not as though I've really told anyone. You shouldn't be any different. Maybe it's the lack of sleep," she chuckled, patting Nightmare's shoulder. Or, maybe, it was something else. Something that she really didn't like to entertain but that was inevitable when someone lived and fought alongside someone, namely fought. Something like that brought you together faster than most. Something that she was a bit worried was leading to something beyond mere companionship and perhaps into companionship.

James smiled slightly, and sighed a little hum. He shifted his weight on his feet and put his hands in his pockets.

“Probably. Sleep deprivation tends to weaken our natural filters,” he said, shrugging a little. “But those are real concerns. What you did with Amy... I’m sure that was against everything you’ve been taught or conditioned to believe. To change your worldview so drastically can bring a lot of confusion and uncertainty. And, well - I’m not going to lord my opinions over you and tell you what’s wrong or right. I think where I stand is pretty clear. But I get that you need to figure out... whatever it is in your head and your heart. About werewolves. And whatever else is making you question monster hunting.”

"I..." she paused, glancing down again. "I don't know. I do know what monsters are capable of. I know that even well-meaning ones can give in to their instincts. I suppose the question is less of...if monsters...can, and will, regardless of who they are, hurt people...so much as...are humans really all that different? Because the more I think about it...the more I recognize that..." she hesitated, and her voice dropped to something barely above a whisper. "The more I realize that I think I'm the same thing as what I've been fighting for so long."

James pursed his lips slightly.

"Everyone is capable of great evil and great good. Humankind is no exception. Just as people like werewolves can give into their carnal desires, so too can man. But we are not destined to be... stuck there. You can always turn it around. Everyone is capable of change. Even if you do see the similarities - giving into darkness - it doesn't have to stay like that."

"If you'd touched my shoulder as you'd just did and you'd done it a week ago, I can't tell you I wouldn't have snapped your neck," she said, voice deadly quiet. "I've killed more people and monsters than I can count without a moment's hesitation. It's really that simple. You said a moment ago that kindness is what makes you human. So what, then, after all this time...does that make me? Certainly not any better than Amy."

He lifted his head to look at her.

"I don't think you're a monster, if that's what you're suggesting," he said softly, trying to think of the words to say. "You are not the sum of your faults. I think... you're flawed, like all of us. But you even... admitting such things at this moment means you can, or-or are turning around. And that's honorable in itself. It is not an easy thing to do. To admit you are wrong. That requires more bravery and effort than many people are willing to... to put in. If you want to be kind, then the best you can do it try, and try again."

She looked at him sidelong, debating how to answer this. Debating what she even thought. "I don't even know what I'm saying at this point, honestly." She subconsciously ran a thumb over the scar on her chin. "All I know is we've got some bounty hunters, a werewolf, and a very dense-but-somehow-charming kid to find."

James took a small step back. Okay. She was done. He nodded slightly.

"Well," he said, looking back out into the forest. "Then I guess we should keep going."

She nodded once in silence and continued walking.

The two pressed through the rest of the night in silence, apart from a few directional words exchanged here and there. As the sun rose, they finally had luck: they found tracks from a wagon and Bane caught onto Amy's scent. With energy reinvigorated after finally having a lead, they hurried to follow the trail, only to slow when they started to hear chattering in the distance. The two stayed low, creeping up towards the source with quiet steps.

"-how much longer do we have, Aisha?"

"Complain one more time Layla, and you won't have much time at all."

A humph.

"I'm just glad we're keeping them in a cage," a deeper voice commented. James assumed that had to be Knoss, by process of elimination.

"Can't heal your way outta that one, huh?"

Then they heard Amy's voice. "Get a little closer and you can find out," she growled.

"Hah! Nice one. Good threats from the wer."

Tasha put her hand to her gun and slowly pulled the hammer back, making sure to muffle the click. She put her other hand to her sword and, without warning James, broke cover, raising her pistol and firing in rapid shots at the bounty hunters, going for their legs to incapacitate them.

"That's my bounty you stole, m*****f*****s!" she snarled, not even giving them a chance to answer as her gun went off.

James let in a sharp inhale as Tasha dashed off out of their cover, and hurried to the side, coming at the group from a different angle. As he emerged from the bushes he saw the two woman hobble to the ground, one's holding their upper leg and the other with her knee completely blown off. The third, however, still wearing the helmet, had dodged and upon seeing James with his sword, drew his own and met metal with metal.

As the clang echoed in the forest, he could hear Amy yell:

"YEAHHHHHHHHH TASHA!"

Tasha came in to melee range and moved to flank Knoss alongside James. He might've been bigger and stronger than the both of them but he'd still have a hard time fighting two experienced swordsmen on different fronts.

Unfortunately, she underestimated the man's speed, and when she made in he pivoted sharply, disengaging with James and snapping his weapon around to catch her in the throat. She jerked back but not quite fast enough - it nicked her, and she felt the warm trickle of blood, though it wasn't deep enough to be lethal. It hurt, but it left James an opening.

What she didn't recognize in the heat of combat was the fact that though she hadn't been wounded, the sudden attack had severed the leather thong around her neck. The leather thong that held a very important charm that had now landed under Knoss' boot and wound up shattered into a million pieces.