WARNING: TRIGGERS in this RP: violence and death

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Wintertime in the Kawani is in full swing, and February is no exception! A strong snowstorm and cold front has blown into the lands, blanketing much of the land in white. Some areas have completely been overwhelmed by snow--and places that are typically warmer or never see the stuff have also been covered in the white stuff.

How is your Soquili handling this snowstorm? Were they caught unaware? Are they experiencing snow for the first time, or are they used to it? What do they do now that they're living in a winter wonderland?

Deception. A cruel word to be frank. One could ultimately deceive another individual by telling the smallest of lies. An untruth so small, so insignificant, that even if the truth were to be revealed there could possibly be no ramifications. It was with this mindset that Hoarfrost had set himself up to ride out the gnarliest maelstrom of a winter blow that his short memory could remember. His more docile form of a lumbering bear had opened up hearts and doors whereas the larger form in which he relished more than anything would have closed those same doors in his face. Truth or untruth. The smallest of tics could give away the game that he had crafted for his unsuspecting host. In hindsight perhaps the wizened old mare should have taken a more cautious approach before admitting Hoarfrost into her sanctuary. It was her longing for a companion bond that had allowed her to make the decision to admit the poor creature into the warmth of her abode. Hoarfrost knew that he would have to maintain the air of innocence long enough to bring this old mare's heart around to accepting him fully. When that moment came, her fate would be sealed. Until then though the bearwalker had to play it smart and not burst the bubble of deceit that he was carefully ensnaring his unsuspecting host within.

As much as the walker hated the fact that he had to put his acting skills to the test he slowly ambled around the mare's sanctuary. It was a well insulated location. He could approve of her choice in location, that much was the truth. The storm outside barely caused any drafts to escape to chill the interior. A small alcove hid a rather impressive blanket that would ward off whatever chills that did manage to find their way inside and he nodded in thoughtfulness before deciding that once the mare met her fate at the behest of his paws that he would flee this place with a new acquisition. It was only befitting that he relieve the mare of some of her possessions once she was no longer in need of them.

At the urging of his host Hoarfrost made himself nicely at home while she shuffled around. The whole scenario would have been one of extreme contentment if only not for the constant itch to end the life of his 'dutiful' host. Outside the howling of the wind was enough to cause an unpleasant whistling sound that made him wince. It was a bear's sense of smell that was the keenest of all five senses but that did not go to say that sound was not as important. The onslaught of the whistling ceased as the wind died down and the old mare clucked in concern. Hoarfrost could hear her muttering about wind direction and what it could pertain to mean in explaining just how severe the storm would be. Tuning out her words the stallion managed to close both eyes to obtain a little bit of rest.

It was hard to get moving. Hoarfrost was dangerously alarmed at just how much the cold sapped his strength. Was this just the beginning of the stage known as hibernation? How in the world would he manage to survive and spread his special form of terror on the world if he could not even move a muscle? The atmosphere around him spoke to an oncoming storm and even though the conditions spoke currently that nothing was amiss there was an internal compass that had alerted Hoarfrost to the need to find shelter. The risk of ignoring such an advanced warning system would result in the most unpleasant of scenarios.

It had been a slow search. One that he, Hoarfrost, had only managed to eke out a solution in the final hours before the winter storm had unleashed its wrath. As he dozed the walker felt his limbs twitch in phantom spasms as he was wracked with the dreams that often plagued his unconscious mind. Dreams that spoke of losing the battle with the elements; of being forced into hibernation. Dreams that spoke of his victims that he had thieved items from, and stolen their lives as a final payment returning to haunt him. The stuff of nightmares. Something that he too was accused of being all to often. The living, breathing nightmare of the Kawani lands. All walkers could inherently obtain this title but Hoarfrost had his special place amongst his kind.

As his muscles continued to spasm as his mind was locked into such a dream the old mare came across his form and tried to offer comfort the only way that she knew how to - the comfort brought on by touch. With an aching body debilitated by the ravages of old age and poor weather did she manage to drag her blanket across the bear's slumbering body before nestling up to the poor creature. It was a shame that such a poor soul had been nearly caught unawares by the weather. She had felt such sorrow for the creature that she had allowed him into her place of safety. The necklace that the creature wore had a faded appearance that spoke of such antiquity that had melted a small amount of her wariness away. No creature deserved to be outside in such a fierce winter's storm. As the warmth from her blanket leeched into her body and thus also into the body of her guest the mare felt her eyes shift close. The dinner that she had been looking forward to preparing could wait for a few hours while she gathered some much needed energy beforehand. As her own breathing slowed to match that of the bear slumbering before her the mare was relieved to feel the twitching of the bear's muscles slow and cease and she breathed out in relief before letting the natural pull of slumber take her under. At least she had managed to bring some comfort to a soul in need.

Hoarfrost had felt the barest of caresses from the mare before the weight of the blanket had settled over him. The additional warmth of the mare's own body meant that she had bought his story: hook, line and sinker. In placing her own body against his without a second's hesitation meant that he could do whatever it was that he wanted to do in this moment and if there was any reaction time on behalf of the mare; that it would be of a "too little, too late" scenario. The question remained of how Hoarfrost would repay this mare for allowing him entrance into her home. Would he be merciful? Or would his extreme tendencies make themselves known once more? Idly the walker stretched his muscles before allowing a paw to snake out from underneath the cocoon of warmth that had enveloped him. If he were to truly make a name for himself he needed to be inventive. A lot of thought had to go into making just the right move at the right time. His paw raised to perch just above the pulse point that he could see fluttering with the mare's heartbeat. The simple sight of that little piece of anatomy pulsing in time with the vibrancy of life made the decision much more appealing to strip away the remaining vestiges of life that this mare possessed. Hoarfrost would be doing what he needed to do in order to survive. In his perusal of the place he had made notice of the supplies that remained. A working inventory would be beneficial if he decided upon claiming this hovel as his own. A place like this would work nicely as a static hideout. A cautious individual such as himself would be wise to set up shop in several places. This would be his first.

With the plan decided upon Hoarfrost gave the softest of movements that saw the blanket slide off his form. This next step would take all the finesse that he could muster. The warmth that he had voluntary shed by extricating his body from the blanket caused him to frown in annoyance. It was obvious that the storm had only begun to really descend upon this area. His gaze took in the expression of tenderness on his host's face. How could one simply let down their guard around a perceived stranger? It was strangely absurd and yet it worked to his advantage. Taking the utmost of care with his movements Hoarfrost began the arduous task of pinning down his host with her own blanket. Working as his smaller form allowed him more dexterity with his paws but he traded it off for less strength available to manoeuvre objects that would aid in his mission. The idea he was cultivating was one in which he would slowly take his time revelling in the screams that he alone would hear. At last Hoarfrost stood back and admired his handiwork. With the blanket acting as an impromptu net he had managed to tie down the mare so that when she woke, and she most likely would when he started his ministrations, she'd be unable to extricate herself from the death trap that she had neatly fallen into of her own accord.

(( OOC: Below is the trigger section...can avoid and still claim the rp is finished but in my mind this needs to be written out ))
At first Hoarfrost was initially caught unaware of the increased breathing rate that his host experienced as she began to rise up out of her restful sleep. He had been staring idly at the walls that surrounded him as the sounds of the storm that was truly upon them unleashed its utmost fury. The shrieking of the wind had his ears flattened against his skull. There was absolutely nothing that would convince him to leave this place of refuge. His sanctuary. His home. At that thought the walker became alerted to the sounds that spoke of a creature struggling with immense desire to free itself from the confines imposed on it.

Hoarfrost ambled his way towards his host, now turned victim, and sat down on his rump before turning a contemplative eye upon the mare. His voice snaked out of his mouth even as she managed to let out the smallest, weakest cries for help that he'd ever heard in his life. "For all that you managed to just get out, maybe I'll just keep you like this. That pitiful noise couldn't even get past this small section of my hearing range and thus certainly there would be no creature outside that would be able to pick up on such a feeble, pathetic cry for help. Take a listen old mare and tell me honestly, even if someone were stationed right outside these walls, would they have been able to hear you through the wailing of the storm outside? I for one already know that you will agree with me so maybe you should just save your voice for when the fun really starts."

There was a sense of revelry in every movement that Hoarfrost now made. Times like these were a rare occurrence and he relished the thought that through careful acting and manipulation he had become the ultimate trio of judge, jury and executioner to this doomed creature. There was no remorse present in any of his limbs. His mind was free of the guilt that would plague lesser Soquili: those that weren't worthy of the proud mantle of walker. He paced around the mare and checked his handiwork before allowing himself the indulgence of ensuring she was still indeed tied down before he fastened his jaws around a portion of her hind leg that was pinned down but uncovered. The desire to relish in screams that only he could hear meant that as he crunched down on the limb and heard bones grind together and snap the first of her pain-laced screams filled the air. Even if she were to somehow free herself now from her imprisoned state the fact that he'd felt the bones snap under his massive jaw meant that she'd not be able to escape. Shaking his head while maintaining his fierce grip on the flesh enabled Hoarfrost to mangle the mare's trapped limb even further before releasing it to lap at the crimson liquid that pooled out from the puncture marks he'd created. Nothing would ever taste as sweet as the spilled life force of a victim involuntarily given up. Moving towards one of the mare's front legs had the bearwalker repeating the same motions of snapping the limb and mangling it further before pausing to lap at the blood that spilled from the wounds he had inflicted. Even as the mare's cries receded into silence did Hoarfrost continue to minimise further any chance that the mare would be escaping his grasp. The aim was to incapacitate but not kill outright the mare. In truth he would have spent hours more but some deep buried instinct reigned in his baser desires. The age of his victim meant that the time he had left was vanishing at a rapid pace.

As the storm notched its fury one level higher did Hoarfrost make his final move. Stationing himself front and center in the mare's field of vision did he wait for the eyes to focus on him. The expression of severe agony was etched in every facial feature and Hoarfrost could ascertain that his victim was fading fast. "Seems like our time is coming to an end now m'dear. You obviously wouldn't last on your own now even if I were to leave you to make my escape. I think it's rather fitting that your death will mean the extension of my own life. Your selflessness to offer aid to a stranger will not be unrewarded. Perhaps one day I'll offer the same generosity toward another that needs aid but then they too will be the one in danger from my jaws."

Hoarfrost waited not a moment longer. Even as he could see some sort of realisation in the mare's gaze did he lock his jaws around her neck. He scrambled to use his body weight to keep whatever pitiful struggles she was giving in the throes of imminent death to keep her pinned. Suffocation was not the quickest way to kill a creature but in times like these it felt the most intimate. Feeling the life drain out from a victim as you stole its most basic instinctive nature to breath in and out was a heady sensation. As the storm raged on outside Hoarfrost's senses were locked onto the mare's internal signs of life. He was in no rush now. Her life would fade long before the storm subsided. There was no fear of discovery of his actions even as he released her neck and shifted forms to that of his equine self. He cast a critical gaze over the blanket and was pleased to see that he'd kept it as free as possible from being stained. Good. The height afforded to his equine self was then shed as he settled down to business: the business of freeing his kill from its entrapped state in order to freely feast at his leisure.


Outside the wind continued to howl unabated. The storm could rage all it wanted. The longer the better. A storm that raged for days meant time to discard signs of a kill from any prying eyes that might stumble by.