The Amateur Games. -[Lyrt]-

[Amur]

Solomon’s tactic had worked and he hand landed on top of his prey feet-first –though, he did feel a small pain in the side of his leg as he struck his prey, which told him that he had taken at least a small hit- now, Solomon was the one in control of this hunt. And already he had several ideas on how to take advantage of his superior position. His prey was pinned beneath his now-kneeling form and his was positioned above its waist, making any attempts to kick him impossible.

In fact, he still had the branch in his hand... An idea struck him, and in the space of only a few small seconds, Solomon moved and set the branch across the neck of his prey, placing one of his knees on one of its shoulders he secured the branch in place and then used his other hand to push down on the branch in order to slowly choke his prey to death.

With him being able to put the entire weight of his body into it, there was very little chance of his prey being able to fight its was out of its current situation.

In fact, Solomon allowed a small smirk to twist its way across his features and lowered his head slightly, and looked into the eye of his prey. He took a moment just holding its gaze and then narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to taunt it with that action alone before saying anything else, after all, his prey had already hit him hard enough.

Now was the time to pay that back.

“Shh... Shh... Don’t speak, just die.”
He whispered mockingly to his prey, lifting his face away from its face. He gave one more twisted smirk and then put as much of his body weight into trying to choke his prey to death as possible.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt watched the man silently feeling curious what he was planning on doing in his new position. He most certainty would not kill her instantly with the effort it had taken to catch her, it would be slightly disappointing if her prey was not as confidant as she had expected he would be. It would be far more satisfying to knock him off a higher cliff and down to crash into the dirt.

The use of the branch to cut off her air was surprising though, she had not thought that he would have used it in such a way. Overestimation seemed to be useless, with all the rumors she had heard of him in the end he was slightly disappointing.

Her face betrayed nothing of what churned in her mind, various possibilities falling perfectly into place. Everything was so simple, he was only human in the end and that would become his downfall.

Silently she watched his expression gain confidence and a smirk bloom on his lips as he watched her skin turn pale and eyes become unfocused. The lack of oxygen made her feel woozy very quickly, yet she had to wait for the perfect moment to retaliate.

Once her vision began to blur she moved quickly using the last of her strength to swing the weighted cord up and and over Solomon's neck with a single smooth gesture. The stone did all the work for her, gravity taking its toll and causing it to swing and wrap tightly around it. She gripped the stone and used her weight to pull it down. If she was unable to take a breath he would not be able to as well, a choice between them both breathing or them both choking.

[Amur]

Now things were getting interesting, this little lamb was indeed a clever one. Not only had it put him in a position where he had been unable to defend himself, but now it had actually managed to turn the superior position he possessed against him. Clearly his desire to play with this one had been ill-considered, as much as he enjoyed the challenge; that was not the intended outcome of leaving prey alive to toy with...

Pity his judgement had been poor on this occasion, but, he couldn’t do much about that now.

And now came the struggle for survival, while Solomon had superior position his prey had the superior weapon in this case. Solomon always had immediate access to several knives, but to reach any of them and then subsequently cut away the cord now wrapped tightly around his neck he would have to relinquish his own attempt to kill his prey.

Or he could kill his prey first and then cut away the cord wrapped around his neck... Which again, posed further issues to The Hunter; he had the head-start toward the kill. But, yet again, the superior improvised weapon would drain him faster... Ever the problems, but Solomon would not allow himself to stop now, no, he was so close now; just a moment longer and victory would be his. His prey then pulled on the cord, forcing Solomon to lower his head.

That was when his vision started to blur, no, he couldn’t keep this up. If he held his ground he would eventually lose his strength enough to lose the effect of his superior position. In a single, fluid motion he drew one of his knives from its concealed sheathe and cut the cord once, immediately staggering away from his prey as the cord slackened.

He was fast to try and correct himself, however, the brief struggle had taken its toll on him and he had to use a nearby tree to support him and his attempt to remain on his feet. Drawing in deep, and rapid breaths Solomon actually managed to chuckle gently.

“Well played.... Amateur.”
Solomon croaked gently, slowly regaining his composure.

“But, I can keep going... I hope... You aren’t giving up yet.”
A small smirk twisted its way across his face and he held his drawn knife at the ready. He doubted his prey had much left, it was running out of tricks –at least the way Solomon saw it- while Solomon still had plenty left to work with... He was kind of starting to tire, though.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt stared blankly up at the man through misted eyes, her vision quickly fading out to black from the lack of oxygen. Each second felt like years, the time stretching out to unfathomable lengths as her body started to shut down. Every limb ached, and it took all of her effort not to gasp for air and give him any sense that she was affected by his attack.

The dark shadow in her vision shifted off and the weight across her neck suddenly let up, the cord in her hand falling slack onto her chest. He had taken the bait so crudely left out for him and she for the moment was safe from him as he recovered.

Slowly she sat up, a hand quickly reaching up at rub at her sore neck, and get the blood flowing freely once again. A rasped cough broke from her lips as she gasped throwing her head back and filling her lungs hungrily with air. Her vision was still blurred and at this point there was no reason to take a single risk by being lax in her defenses. Both of the blades in her sleeves snapped down and at the ready if he took a single step towards her.

"I hope... You aren’t giving up yet.”

His words told her that he was recovering, and she was not nearly as fast enough as she needed to. Standing on shaky legs she glanced in his general direction, vision slowly slipping into focus as she examined his stance and the smirk on his lips.

Lyrt paused before answering, she hated to speak to useless people, it simply wasted her breath on people who would not understand her word's intentions. Yet she supposed he had earned the right, after all he had proven himself to not be a useless person.

"Hardly, your steps are what to be watched...you do not seem to be able to continue playing for much longer...Mr Wolf. Turn into a sheep and be chased as the prey or stay the wolf you are and become a pelt?"

The words flowed smoothly off of her tongue, each word pronounced clearly and her vowels stressed with an almost musical tone. Slowly she fumbled through her pouch for a vial of something useful, all the while ignoring the smashed lute on the ground where they had crashed. It was a good thing to be rid if it, sentimental things only dragged people down and for some reason it was hard for her to rid herself of it. Until now of course...there was no reason to drag a broken instrument around.

[Amur]

Solomon span the knife he had drawn in his palm as The Little Lamb slowly recovered. Having not yet fully recovered yet himself, Solomon could only let his prey gather its wits. An unfortunate side-effect of nearly having one’s life choked from them, recovery from such an effort was slow and often tiresome. But Solomon was fine, he had overcome worse, this Little Lamb was little more than a minor annoyance... He would crush it.

He held The Little Lamb’s gaze and matched its smirk, slowly recovering enough to be able to push himself off of the tree. He rolled his shoulders and head slowly, slowly dispelling the stiffness that had built up. He could keep going for as long as he needed, Solomon knew his limitations and there was no way this Little Lamb was going to push him past them, he had killed a Wyvern, had kept up with The Elf and Wyvern-kin...

The Little Lamb was a minor annoyance.

And then, it spoke. The wording sounded odd, even to someone like Solomon... But, he understood the meaning, and he laughed. He still disliked the title this Little Lamb had given him, but it was preferable to hearing the vile name of his birth.

As his laughter subsided into a gentle chuckle Solomon stood and regarded his prey with an almost curious smirk. Oh, this Little Lamb was almost adorably deluded, if it thought it would ever be able to kill him then it was going to be in for a very rude awakening. Once more he span his knife in his palm and then drew another from its concealed sheath.

“What you say makes it sound as though you’re under the impression that you’ll be able to kill me. Oh, Little Lamb, do you know how many Amateurs I’ve killed, you’re out of your depth... Well, I gave you your chance, I think it’s about time I stopped playing with you, ja?”
He smirked, spinning the second knife in his palm as he spoke. He caught the blade in reverse-grip and lowered his stance slightly, his smirk twisting into a malicious smile.

Thinking back, Solomon concluded that he should have brought his entire quiver of arrows with him, that way he would have been able to pick off The Little Lamb from a distance and then move in for the kill even if it somehow managed to evade his shots... This time his confidence had caused him to make a mistake, he would have to remember this for the next time he fought a more-skilled-than-usual amateur.

Without another word Solomon tore forward, running at his prey with purpose. He altered his stance at the last possible second, twisting himself into the strike he intended to make with the knife he held in reverse-grip. Aiming to use both momentum and his body-weight to worsen the damage inflicted by his knife, whilst simultaneously lowering the risk of counter-attack. His knife was aimed at the chest of his prey, if he could land just that one strike this hunt would be his.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt blinked quietly watching the man dash towards her knife shining in his hand. It was refreshing for him to finally start playing on her level, waiting had already become dull. The lack of pair made her fatigued and she only wished to end it quickly at this point. It was not as if she had any interest playing around with prey that did not prove to be moderately interesting. He had been bittersweet in such aspects so far, and her expectations were slightly muddled. When they were more annoyed their actions were far more amusing, far more predictable.

She regarded him silently as he moved closer and closer no plan in hr mind as of yet. Simply waiting and watching for an opening to take advantage of.

“What you say makes it sound as though you’re under the impression that you’ll be able to kill me. Oh, Little Lamb, do you know how many Amateurs I’ve killed, you’re out of your depth... Well, I gave you your chance, I think it’s about time I stopped playing with you, ja?”

"It was becoming rather tedious waiting for you to start playing..." She sighed throwing up her arms and stretching them lazily. "Rather disappointing you playing was, I feel that this may become even more discouraging..." With another sigh she shrugged her shoulders and spin knives in both of her hands, having only pulled them from her sleeves mere moments before. "I would hope that you do not disappoint me further...I had heard such promising things too. It seems that they were all false hope."

She dropped down to the ground as he slashed at her with a feeble spin the odd material of his cloak catching her eye. Stilling she gazed at it silently before giving a soft shake of her head, there would be time to examine it later, there were more pressing matters at hand to be taken care of.

Lyrt quickly slipped her knives back up into her sleeves and slammed her heel into the back of his exposed knee while she sprung back up into a crouch. His slight stagger provided an opening, and leaping up lightly she hooked one arm over his shoulder before leaning in closer. Disarming him would be a perfect way to start, leaving him defenseless to play with while he died. A distraction was needed while she worked though, and there was little else to do but move quickly.

Hesitating for a moment she slammed her lips into his, fingers lightly dancing lower and lower teasingly, searching for... She slipped back his arrow in her hand and snapped in neatly in two, getting rid of any use of his bow. Ranged attacks were her only disadvantage, and know she had eliminated them with one simple movement. Flicking his forehead she stepped back twirling the pieces tauntingly between her fingers

"So easy to snap...I had almost expected more...yet is seems you are simple a figure of speech to be manipulated at will..."

She sighed once again and tossed the useless arrow over her shoulder into the mud, a knife flashing dangerously in her hand as she watched him closely, taking in every movement.

[Amur]

Where had he gone wrong? This Little Lamb was an amateur, there was simply no way that it could even come close to matching him, Solomon was the pinnacle of humanity. Yet, how had this Little Lamb managed to first, put Solomon on the floor and second, force him to his knees? Even Mentor Aeon had not managed such a thing since Solomon had become a full Hunter... So, how was Solomon struggling to kill this Little Lamb when it was, without a doubt so vastly inferior to Mentor Aeon, Solomon just couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Solomon worked his way back to his feet, he would think over the specifics at a later time. But for the time being, he had a Little Lamb to slaughter. He raised his arm, ready to slash at the throat of The Little Lamb; however, he didn’t get the chance to make his move. The Little Lamb managed to hook one of its arms over his shoulder and then drew in close.

What happened next made Solomon freeze in utter confusion... The Little Lamb, what was she? It took only that one moment of hesitation for The Little Lamb to make its move, as it flicked him in the forehead and backed away from him with a broken arrow Solomon remained stood rigidly in shock... Was that an attempt to play mind-games with him?

(Though, Solomon did note distantly that he most definitely should have kept his entire quiver of arrows with him.)

Solomon drew in a shallow breath as he reached the conclusion that The Little Lamb was attempting to play mind-games with him and remained stood where it had left him standing –now feigning shock- as he took mental notes about the stance, posture and even the attire of his prey. His gaze only briefly fell upon the pouch secured to its thigh, but with only one glance Solomon had a plan in mind. If The Little Lamb wanted to play mind-games with him then Solomon would simply play mind-games with it...

Solomon knew that The Little Lamb would not be able to match him when playing mind-games.

Spinning the knife he held in reverse-grip in his palm Solomon took aim and swiftly threw it in the direction of The Little Lamb, immediately following up by taking aim and throwing his other drawn knife in the direction his prey evaded the first in. And then, without pause he followed the missiles toward his prey, catching it as it recovered from its final evasion.

He gently placed one hand around the back of its head and then immediately followed-up by drawing his prey into a seemingly passionate kiss of his own... The Little Lamb would not best him at mind-games.

He held his position, gently tracing his free hand down the side of her body until he found what he was looking for. And without breaking the kiss Solomon first unbuckled the strap securing the pouch to the thigh of his prey and then unbuckled the strap securing the pouch the her waist, catching it before it fell he continued to maintain the kiss for several further seconds before breaking contact and smirking at his prey.

Backing away with a gentle push to its chest he raised the pouch he now held in his hand to eye-level, he allowed his smirk to twist once more.

“Oh, Little Lamb. Don’t try to best me at playing mind-games. You won’t win.”
And with that, he turned and threw the pouch into the distance, away from the location of their fight... Just one less trick his prey had to use against him.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt watched Solomon's breathing change with his thoughts, it was far too simple to read him. The simple shock flashing across his features and lingering far too long to be believable. He was at her utter mercy, a puppet sitting in her palm. A simple toy for her to play with until it was trashed. She fingered her knives almost lovingly as she waited for his next feeble attempt to fight against her.

Not a single movement escaped her as she observed him, and the girl was ready for his pitiful assault with knives. She swung her arm out stiffly the blade snapping up to protrude from her sleeve as she knocked it aside with ease and turned on her heel knocking the second away to embed itself in a tree trunk with a loud 'THUMP.' Snapping her other arm out parallel to the ground, another small blade peeked out, and as he drew closer she was ready to strike low to reduce his mobility, after all it was the only thing that left her at a disadvantage.

Balancing carefully on the heel of her foot she bent low at the waist and leaned forward, arms raised to slash at his legs savagely. Yet an arm dragged her upward, her hands having fallen uselessly by her sides yet still ready to block his attack. He surprised her but it would not last for long, it was only a momentary shock.

A hand slithered up and pressed to the back of her neck before a warm pair of lips smashed into her own. It took all of her control to keep her face just as stoic as always and not give him the satisfaction of an expression. She froze up mind flashing white and void, thoughts flashing momentarily from her mind as Solomon snatched her chemical pouch and threw it off into the distance.

"Naughty Mr Wolf..." she whispered staring at his now vulnerable back, a pitiful move to only leave himself once again open for attack. That pouch had been useful and hard to craft, she would take much pleasure in making him scream for such wasteful behavior.

Hurriedly she undid the buckle of the patch that covered the upper right side of her face, exposing her crimson eye. It appeared just the same as her left eye, save for the vast difference in color, no plausible reason for it to be covered from its appearance, it seemed healthy enough. Yet dark swirling marks surrounded the eye, looking almost like wisps of smoke.

With a smirk she twisted the leather strap and wrapped it around Solomon's neck, pulling it taunt with one hand while she explored his body with the other. Whenever she found a knife it was tossed unceremoniously over her shoulder, the girl trying to rid him of as many of them as she could before he reacted. "Mr Wolf..." she whispered mockingly up into his ear "my tactics...hardly work against me..."

A mocking smirk painted on her lips she stretched up to nip his ear teasingly, releasing the rest of the makeshift leather noose with a chuckle. "Mr Wolf should really start begging to be spared...not that it matters much but for my amusement..."

[Amur]

That was a mistake, he had left his back vulnerable and The Little Lamb had capitalised on that. Solomon mentally cursed his stupidity, so far many of the people here he had killed had all been amateurs and morons... Because of that his expectations of the people he was likely to face in this land had lowered. This was the third time he had underestimated someone now because of the amateurs he had faced before them.

Solomon should have known better, this was starting to get embarrassing.

Solomon was fast to act as The Little Lamb once more managed to wrap some kind of makeshift weapon around his neck. He reached inside one of his sleeves and withdrew one of his slimmer knives from its concealed sheath, as he reached up to sever the noose wrapped around his neck, however, it whispered into his ear and then... Wait, did it just nip on his ear? Well, this one certainly didn’t lack the dedication it took to play mind-games.

Solomon chuckled as he felt the pressure from around his neck vanish and immediately rolled forward in order to gain some distance from The Little Lamb... Well, if it wanted to play mind-games that way, then Solomon would be only too happy to show it just how out of its depth it was. Well, and make sure that it was aware that if anyone was going to be begging for their life, is most definitely was not going to be Solomon.

“Heh, heh, Little Lamb; the misplaced confidence you seem to have surrounding your victory. Or simply your survival here is funny to me. Keep this up and I may actually reward you with a swift death as opposed to a painful one.”
Solomon taunted back, spinning his knife in his palm. He kept his smirk trained on The Little Lamb as he held its gaze. He focussed, using the mental technique he had been taught by Mentor Solomon to force his body into shock which would force it into an adrenaline rush. He drew in a silent breath and then rushed forward without warning.

He made the rush forward look as convincing as possible, and at the very last second switched direction and lowered himself into a low crouch, skidding around his prey in a single fluid movement. He didn’t stop as he managed to reach his prey’s back, getting back to his feet he was fast to use his foot to apply pressure to the back of its knee whilst wrapping his free arm around its neck. In the space of only several seconds he had his prey where he wanted it as he casually pressed the blade of his knife to the under-side of its chin.

“But you’re enjoying yourself aren’t you, Little Lamb? It’s quite alright to admit it, since I am too.”
He whispered mockingly into its ear, he held their position for just a moment and then tilted his head into her hair for a moment and drew in a deep breath. If The Little Lamb wanted to play mind-games, Solomon was going to show it that it was out of its depth.

He held his breath for a short moment and then let out an almost sensual sigh.

“Ja... Just imagine how much more enjoyable the slaughter will be, Little Lamb. I hope you’ll find it as exhilarating as I will.”
He whispered –almost softly- into its ear. Slowly increasing the pressure with which he held the blade to its throat with. He wasn’t quite done playing mind-games yet; he wanted to make The Little Lamb squirm.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt pressed into the small of his back just as the older man rolled away out of her reach. A knife appeared in his hand suddenly and he began to gloat. “Heh, heh, Little Lamb; the misplaced confidence you seem to have surrounding your victory. Or simply your survival here is funny to me. Keep this up and I may actually reward you with a swift death as opposed to a painful one.”

"A swift death? How convenient that the imagination of a child lives on inside of you. Your death will be far from swift and painless, you will only beg for it's cold embrace. Beg as you will, I will be sure that it eludes you for as long as possible Mr Wolf." She goaded him back without a second thought, knives at the ready for a strike against him.

She met his mismatched stare with one of her own and tensed ready to pounce at the slightest indication of an attack from him. He did not fall short of her expectations again, simply rushing forward stupidly right into her reach. The assassin was prepared for the strike, one blade snapping into her palm and moving to block his strike while she leapt up to strike with the other.

Somehow it seemed that he had stepped up his game from before, his charge wild for someone who seemed so calm. His foot slammed into the back of her knee, causing her to fall to a kneel while the tip of a blade prodded the underside of her neck. It was a sticky situation as any, but she had been in far too many to be discouraged.

He gloated over his partial victory, wasting too much time playing to notice when she flipped the game board scattering all the pieces into her lap. “Ja... Just imagine how much more enjoyable the slaughter will be, Little Lamb. I hope you’ll find it as exhilarating as I will.” Her wolf was still distracted by the game no longer being played, and it was left all pointing to her advantage.

"More so I think..." Lyrt mused as she hurriedly grabbed his middle finger and bent it far back, blood beading up where the point of the blade had pressed. In the few moments of her freedom she turned to face him, cloaked arms encircling his neck as she pressed herself closer. "The bloody crimson will go well with the exhilarated expression you will give to me..."

One of her blades pressed to the back of his neck lightly has she stroked his cheek. "The eye...it is remarkable how the color seems so vibrant. Such eye conditions usually fade quickly...yet this seems to have not..." She gently circled the socket with the tip of her finger, a knee pressing up between his legs teasingly. "I should keep it...then I can always remember the wonderful expressions that you will show me while you scream. The wolf hunted by the lamb...how fitting." Lyrt leaned in closer to get a better view of the curiously crimson eye in the growing light of the morning. As much as she tried to hide the fatigue was overtaking her, it would be hard to do so for much longer.

Lightly she ran her tongue up his cheek, the blade pressing in slightly harder to the back of his neck. "I could just take your head...preserve it in a jar...would that not be just the perfect idea for a face as uniquely battered from wear and tear...Ja?" She mocked his speech openly, imitating the slight accent that he spoke with.

[Amur]

Well, this was interesting. For all his taunts even Solomon had to admit that this Little Lamb stood head-and-shoulders above every other amateur he had killed thus far. Of course, he still mentally cursed himself for underestimating it, but the thrill of a good challenge was something that Solomon had not felt for far too long. It was for that reason alone that he had allowed himself to drag-out the games he was playing with The Little Lamb.

However, it had made enough mistakes over the course of this little game that Solomon usually would have capitalised on. But this time, the thrill of the challenge had overpowered his usual opportunistic nature and oftentimes Solomon had ignored them... Well, unless of course, it had provided him with the opportunity to taunt The Little Lamb. These kinds of games were never complete without at least some taunting, after all.

In fact, her latest mistake was leaving the knife that Solomon was holding in his hand before turning her back to it and pressing herself closer to him. Solomon chuckled; she really did have a knack for the mind-games didn’t she? Nevertheless, Solomon wasn’t about to let The Little Lamb get the upper-hand, oh no. Solomon was far to skilled to simply let that happen, in fact, the moment she had her back to his knife Solomon had raised it to be level with the base of her skull, but had not immediately moved to make sure that she knew her mistake.

He waited for her to taunt him, waited for her to play her mind-games before he made his move. He took note of every move she made, the way she held herself close to him, even the way she licked his cheek before mocking him for his accent.

He chuckled again. Oh, The Little Lamb was clearly willing to go as far as Solomon was in order to play mind-games wasn’t she? Well, if she wasn’t going to back-away than neither was Solomon, he was far too proud a Hunter to let The Little Lamb best him at his own game. He smirked at her and gently placed his free hand at her lower back.

“Admirable trophy aspirations, Little Lamb... But, you’ve forgotten one thing.”
He said softly before pressing his knife to the base of her skull. As he did that he drew her even closer to him with his other hand, literally pulling her into what could only be described as an embrace. He smirked at her once more and then gently touched her forehead with his, meeting and holding her gaze.

“I think; this is what most people call a ‘stalemate’, Little Lamb.”
He whispered in an almost soothing voice. Holding the twisted embrace that both he and The Little Lamb were in, he allowed himself another short, sharp and intentionally sensual sounding gasp as the stalemated lock continued.

“But, I think we both know better, don’t we?”
He said calmly, still as little more than a whisper. Then, he one-upped The Little Lamb’s earlier attempts to play mind-games with him by running his tongue from the bottom of her lips to the bottom of her nose. If anyone was going to win these mind-games, it was going to be him. He chuckled, still holding The Little Lamb in their twisted embrace.

[Lyrt]

Lyrt froze a a knife pressed to the base of her neck, taking care not to show any recognition of the weapon. She thought he had dropped it when his finger had been bent back, he must have had a better pain tolerance than she had foreseen.

He was obviously enjoying taking advantage of her blunder, taking the time to make a show of it. An arm wrapped around her and pulled her closer up to his chest, her on the blade adjusting immediately to keep it pressing into the back of his neck just as his was pressed to hers. Lyrt blinked up at him silently, as much as he seemed to gloat over her momentary failure he still did not have the upper hand.

The wolf continued to gloat, stupidly sticking out his tongue and licking her lips, a pathetic attempt to play her games. Without warning she bit the warm piece of flesh, holding it captive between her teeth.

Her new toy was quite the vicious one, yet she was even more so. Biting down with more vigor she shifted her blade to his stomach. "You do know...my dear wolf" she began releasing the man's tongue "the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. The flesh is so tender...all it takes is a little force and even the lungs can be pricked. It would be interesting to observe ja? See how accurate such words really are?"

Her free arm wrapped around his neck, pulling herself even closer to him as she smirked , the corners of her mouth turning skyward in mockery. "Stomach acid is very potent....I wonder what could be done with yours...there are so many possibilities to explore..."

With the smirk still lingering on her lips she leaned in to kiss him again, taking the time to savor the kill. The books were now meaningless to her, as was the reward. The kill would be sweet, the most interesting one she had found in a long while. Even the elves had grown dull compared to this.

[Amur]

Well, once more Solomon’s underestimation of The Little Lamb was made painfully obvious to him as she took the opportunity to use Solomon’s attempt to play mind-games with her to taunt him right back. Of course, the fact that she had bitten his tongue had been completely unexpected, She was almost as opportunistic as he was. That was something Solomon could respect, it had been far too long since he had faced-down another opportunist.

The Elf and Wyvern-kin and tried to play his game and had failed miserably at it. And Taured... Well, Taured was just odd. Solomon still wondered why he cared so much about what he had to say.

Solomon kept silent as The Little Lamb moved the knife she held to his gut and once more started trying to taunt him. Solomon couldn’t help but scoff quietly at that, his wyvern-skin chest-plate would take a fair bit of effort to pierce with a simple knife. So, he had little to worry about from that, her taunting, however, was by far some of the best he had encountered since setting foot on this land. The taunts from The Elf and Wyvern-kin paled in comparison, and everyone else he had faced clearly didn’t have the stomach to belittle others by taunting them.

As she leaned closer to him Solomon made a move of his own, manoeuvring his body in such a way so that her knife would be pinned between the two of them by the flat of the blade, removing any threat it posed entirely. And with another taunt she leaned in to kiss him once again. Solomon intentionally dropped the knife he was holding, if she wanted to continue playing these mind-games then Solomon was, likewise going to continue.

He didn’t allow her the opportunity to break this kiss, he gently placed his –now- free hand around the back of her head and kissed her back while very slowly walking her toward the nearest tree, stopping the very slow march only once her back was pressed against it.
---

How the Hell had Solomon not seen where that was going?

He stood with his hand resting on the tree opposite the one The Little Lamb was now slumped, sleeping against and fighting back the overwhelming urge to vomit. Fatigued as he was Solomon simply wouldn’t allow himself to pass out here. No, he wouldn’t give The Little Lamb the satisfaction of seeing that it had won.

Ignoring the growing nausea and sense of self hatred Solomon managed to push himself back into a standing position and reclaim the knife he had dropped earlier. He was almost certain that The Little Lamb knew that he wasn’t going to give up playing his mind-games and had used that knowledge against him. He clenched his teeth and seethed hatred in complete silence as he advanced upon her sleeping form with the slender, black-bladed knife in his hand.

He stood in silence as he loomed over the sleeping Little Lamb, silently spinning the knife in his palm. He remained standing where he was for several long moments, his disgust, anger and hatred swirling around in his mind, becoming an almost overwhelming force... But, no. Solomon was not a man of such reckless impulse, no matter how much he hated The Little Lamb right now.

“... Well played.”
He muttered begrudgingly, throwing the knife so that the blade embedded itself in the ground next to the sleeping Little Lamb.

“... Just never forget that I held your life in my hands.”
He muttered sourly, turning his back to The Little Lamb he ran from where he had left her... He had no idea what he intended to do, probably find somewhere to vomit until he couldn’t vomit any more, and then find somewhere to wash himself thoroughly... Only then would he even consider finding somewhere to sleep.

Solomon continued running at a swift pace... By the time The Little Lamb woke he would be long gone, and that suited him just fine.

Solomon had made a mistake.

And he didn’t make mistakes!

[Lyrt]

Lyrt snapped awake in an instant, her hand jumping to the knife in her boot and pulling it out in one smooth motion. Something had woken her, and she was not taking any chances. Without a second thought she rolled onto her stomach and pressed her palms to the ground and giving a shove. For a moment she was airborne, and the next she had slammed down onto an elk, the blade slicing through its neck cleanly.

She stared silently at her kill, and then glanced back about the clearing, taking note of the blade shoved into the ground where she had slept. It was the same as the others that Mr. Wolf had used before. Silently she pulled it from the ground and stuck it in her pack, taking the time to push it in snugly among her other possessions.

Her lower back was frighteningly sore and an acrid taste was left in her mouth. How had it reached that point? Neither of them had relented in their mind games and it had led to such...

Bile rose in her throat and she slapped a hand over her mouth, her plans had gone awry, far from what she had wished. She had tried to press his guard down and muddle his mind so he could not think clearly, yet he had somehow done just the same.

Her skin pricked at the thought of him, and she quickly rose giving a harsh kick to the dead beast and sending it skidding away on the mud. Next time she would not use any tricks that could backfire like this one had, she would slam into him head on and give him no room for retaliation. Never would she be so lenient again.

She pulled on her cloak and ran off towards the south west, she had made a mistake and had become sidetracked, and someone would pay dearly for it. Though...as much as she hated to admit, it had been a long while since she had experienced such fun...up until...

Lyrt's teeth clenched and she turned a little green as the thought rose in her mind again, and she sped up.

---

Night had fallen over the mercenary company's headquarters, and Lyrt walked silently through the halls a bloodlust in her eyes. She was like a ghost, no one would be able to notice the shadow drifting past, yet she was sure that they would never forget it in their regrets.

The two books that she had gone on the mission for were tucked under her arm, one a book of myth and the other one of science. She had taken them from the Commander's office before heading towards his room. At this hour he was most certainly asleep, for the moment. She pushed open the door to his quarters and slipped inside, taking care to not make even the slightest noise in the darkness.

The king oaf was asleep as expected, snoring away without a second thought to the inconvenience he had caused her. Her mind had been set on what she was about to do, and anticipation steadied her hand as she raised the dark blade that the wolf had left behind. She placed the tip of the blade to his neck, and carefully pressed into the soft flesh, severing his vocal cords.

His eyes widened as he was jerked awake, and soft puffs of air was all that passed through his lips as he tried to cry for help, cry out to her with that cursed name to stop. The man shoved himself to his feet and lunged at her, disappointment crossing his face as he sliced at her with his axe.

She grabbed the candle that rested on the bedside table and shoved it into his face, the horrid expression quickly being wiped from his features as fear overtook it.

"Goodnight..."

Lyrt plunged the blade into his gut, dragging the blade lower as blood soaked her pale fingers. For a moment she surveyed her work, and then shoved the blade into his chest, leaving it in as a parting gift.

The door was flung open and a tall man stood there, a blade drawn in his hand as he stared from her to the body on the floor. A cry of rage burst from his lips as he charged towards her and swung wildly.

Yet she had disappeared, a bloody red hand print on the front of the enraged man's nightshirt that she had left behind. "C-catch that ghost woman!" he bellowed shoving his fellow mercenaries from their beds as they searched for any sign of her.

Lyrt was long gone by then, heading off towards the spine and her home to restock and recuperate, a frightening smile on her lips.