318 CHPT 318: The Duality of the Dark Hero; The Dilemma of a Damaged Monster....

"We....are Lupines."

Ursula's mouth went as dry as the sands that encompassed their little forest of fight and fear.

The words hit her like a Sun Punch to the chest from her Father. Fast, hard and so hot that her insides felt cold in contrast. A simple raw intensity that only rose as her brain connected the words with the mysteries she was once left to ponder on with little knowledge to gain.

She had knowledge to gain now. All she needed was a piece, and like a rope she'd pull the rest to the surface.

Jack-- the Monster that put a dent in her organs with a single elusive punch to the stomach. The wild beast streaked with white that chased-- herded, and ate her fellow students.....the giant man with bronze skin and a long black braid that slithered down his back like a serpent....Claude...the twins who were nowhere to be found.

They were all Lupines....

And now, so was she.

The weight of Claude, sagging against her in an impossibly deep sleep, felt like nothing compared to the weight of the sudden realization. The sudden flurry of questions.

What did it mean? Was she at risk of murdering her friends? Had she already..?...Killed? Would everyone's blood smell as good as the man in the tree house? Did she have any control over anything? Could she even be around humans anymore? Was she....?

".....Sounds like heavy shit, no?"

In a flash, Ursula slung Claude over her shoulder as if he was a bag of rocks and spun to face the voice of the being she wasn't aware of behind her.

There was no moment of reason or thought, just instinct and urge, leading her to facing the man with her teeth bared and and fingers flexed. The same way one would react to something being thrown at them-- as if it was natural.

The man in the blindfold stood still, leaning against a cane while he ate an apple with the carefree delight of a man with no responsibilities or burdens in sight.

No part of her relaxed for the simple reason that she didn't hear him ever approach.

The silence was broken between them when Frosty approached the man, haphazardly sniffing his legs and arms with his eyes held firmly on the apple.

"Animals.....they can be so simple sometime, don't you agree?" He said before giving the rest of the apple to Frosty.

Ursula stayed in her position while Frosty took the apple and trotted back over to them. She almost didn't notice the faint rumble shaking from the depths of her throat.

Plop!

Her thoughts on the animalistic sounds coming from within her were pushed to the wayside as Frosty came to a stop in front of her and dropped the apple at her feet. She would've gotten the message just from that, but an odd feeling accompanied the gesture. An internal feeling, in the crook of her mind..a thought that wasn't her own.

"Safe..." Not a word, but a feeling. And it wasn't hers. She was sure of that as the PitWolf nudged the apple closer to her with his snout.

It seemed, Frosty was telling her.....the man was safe...? So many questions burst to life at the realization of the action that she simply ignored it in fear that her brain would turn into a block of ice if she tried to rationalize it along with the rest of her renewed existence.

"...They can be rather...complex as well, no?" The man added as if he knew what Frosty was doing.

Ursula sighed, jumping at the odd chuffing sound she let out instead before wiping her mouth and feeling the grooves of overgrown teeth at her canines and further behind where the teeth felt like they'd thickened but failed to sharpen to full lethal points.

She fought off a shiver when she finished the action of wiping her mouth and felt the cold touch of thick claws on her lips. They were long....grotesque in the way they pushed apart the skin of around them and curved like icy black meat hooks. There was no resemblance to when she saw Claude's...and yet, according to him, they were the same.

A thought to be made a question later on. She needed answers to things much more dire, now.

In one fluid motion, she stood up straight-- unbothered by the couple hundred pounds of traumatized Lupine on her shoulder and forced her vocal chords to achieve human sounds.

"Tell me your name and the situation here....are you his family or what?"

Rollan shook his head, "My name is Rollan Ligneore. And you are holding my Home Guardian...."

Ursula's face shifted into one of confusion, "The fu--...Home Guardian?"

Rollan scratched the balding hair on the top of his smooth dark-skinned head in an almost embarrassed gesture, "He's still learning a many things, no? Hell, even the best Security needs a break sometimes....even if it's on my previously hibernating patients shoulders..."

"...Patient?"

Rollan leaned against his cane, causing her to realize it was definitely not a cane. He looked at her so strongly, she could practically feel his seemingly sightless eyes on her through his blindfold, "Madame.....who do you think kept your wounds clean, hm?"

Her shoulder. How could she forget?

In a fearful span of two seconds, she let her eyes pan down to her shoulder where she found the hole in her comically tight blue t-shirt. She could see the puffy scar tissue as clear as day-- as if a hole in someones shoulder/chest was meant to scar over. The scents of oils, herbs and spices wafted from the scar like scented smoke. A smell that seemed to hover from the man across from her as well.

"What the hell?"

Rollan, understanding her confusion nodded and turned while beckoning for her to follow, "I understand you are still confused, Madame. Come with me, I shall explain what I can on the walk back. Monsieur la bête is in need of proper rest and recovery. Not that your shoulders aren't proper...hehe. It's just that they look about as soft as ....uhhh.....what's that word? Ah, cannon balls, hm? Can't be too nice on the ribs...."

Warily, Ursula silently agreed and followed him back to the tree house.

The run away from it was short, but the walk back felt about as long as an immortal life. Rollan tried his best to lay out the events that had transpired since they'd established their agreement and what that meant. She was able to fill in the blanks easily enough. And by the time they stepped out of the forest and into the clearing that surrounded Rollan's home adorned by a canopy full of Monster heads in jars, she was crying like a baby.

Claude's mental breakdown suddenly didn't seem so unwarranted.

He hadn't changed-- not completely at least. He knew what he was, what that entailed...he knew of it's many negatives. And yet, he changed her to save her-- despite how much he detested the fact of making her like him. Making her have to struggle like him. He hated it so much that his mind snapped when he found her up and about as she was now. So much that as soon as he saw her, he needed all of existence-- all of himself, to know that he had to. He had no choice. He was sorry, but he saved people...so he had to. He'd seen enough death, and the opportunity to thwart it for once had risen, the downside was something he had to live with for the rest of his life...

To live the duality of such a dilemma was a pain she couldn't wholly understand.

And it was a dillema that he was forced to wholly live the entire time. For every second after slaying the HellBreeder and running to an entirely new District. For every second after fighting off Monsters and avoiding the watchful eyes of The Detection Corps and Enforcers while he traveled through the deserts beyond. And for every second after his meeting with Rollan and the many Monsters that came after.

His mind-- his threshold, had overloaded and her appearance was the icing on the cake. She had a world of questions, a galaxy of unknowns, a universe of worries. She'd get answers, but for now he needed rest. And she needed to come to terms with what she was.

So many downsides and horrible truths revealed. And yet, she could feel herself warming. Her blood pumped and muscles refreshed for one simple reason.

Sure, she was way out of her element in terms of information and even power....but sooner than later, she could be of real help. She would be, of real help.

First, she just had to understand what it meant to be a Lupine...with a word such as that as their title, the opportunities and details were endless.

Ronin's words suddenly hit with a new level of precision and intensity, like of one his Hallowed Swords.

They were no WereWolves...