Erevan’s stomach grumbles as he waits by his ballista on a hill. The morning dew is frozen to the vegetation poking out of the snow, light filters in through the clouds above, and the hunter keeps himself focused on the task at hand. From his perched position on a hill he gazes out over unkempt land, wild territory between the villages, where he waits for an animal worthy of his bolts to come wandering down the game trail that he’s spotted below. Erevan’s black hair is on full display as his helmet sits on a mound of snow next to him.

From down the game trail came exactly what he was hoping for. That being an elk sprinting down the game trail. However, it appeared to be much larger than regular elk. With a twelve-foot horn span and nine feet long it barreled across the ground in fear. An arrow sticking out of a bloody patch in its side seemed to glow with silvery light. Even as the crow hunter watched he saw something rise from the snow-covered forest it had bolted out of, a line of silvery light with red in its trail and smoke accompanying it.

An arrow sails clean across the forest for a solid seven hundred feet before striking the Elk right before it would encounter the ballista's kill range. The arrow impacts and explodes with a pop and a splatter of gore that spreads crimson over the snow's surface to melt its way through with the heat of its lifeblood. Out of the forest came a hunter with a dire bear hide hat and a bow that seemed to glow silver with magic. They began to make their way towards the body through the snow with practiced ease.

"Dear gods, don't mistake me for an elk," Erevan mutters as he grabs his helm, sliding it on. He stands up slowly from the brush he was hiding in with his arms held above his head. His metal armor and green coat are enough to identify him among the snow.

"Friendly!" Burkwood calls out in as much of a declaration of his own status as it was a question of theirs.

"I'd certainly hope so. I wasn't planning on killing anyone today. Only this beast here." The hunter turns her head in his direction but does not pause their march to the body. Once they approach it they check over it with a hand before nodding and turning to the man in the snow

"Lucky for me then. Wouldn't want to be on anyone's bad side." Erevan carefully walks down the hill to the game trail. He pauses, looking at the points of the Elk's antlers and then up at the huntress.

She pats the still steaming corpse of the elk before sitting on its ribcage not seeming to mind as blood soaks into her clothes. In fact, she had been quite bloody before she had walked up; it seems as blood had trailed across her face, coat, hat, and gloves. She grabbed a handful of snow and began to clean the excess off of her by rubbing the snow on herself.

"I'm hoping you weren't intending to hunt it when it ran. I've been stalking this one for about half an hour now." She looked at him. Her eyes seemed to be ringed in silver with spikes coming off of the silver ring around her pupil. Her hair was long and blonde, and she wore several layers of clothing and furs.

"I'll get the next one. Plenty of scavengers will smell the blood or come for whatever you leave.” Erevan will look down the game trail and then back at the woman. “Say what was the weapon you used to bring it down. I don't think I saw what did the creature in."

"Just a simple bow and arrow with a little bit of magic. I hunt greater things than this often. This was simply to resupply my dogs with dinner." The girl raised her bow which was made of some silver-like wood with carvings running along its entire length. The glow on it speaks of its magical nature. She pulls a knife out and begins to skin the creature dexterously, not minding getting recovered in blood after having just cleaned herself. At the same time, she cut into the meat to bleed it out and get rid of some of the gaminess.

"If you aren't particular I would appreciate it if you leave any wolves alone. They are practically family to me and their howls help me get around the mountains easier." As blood splatters onto her lips she idly licks it away before turning to look at him with those same sharp, striking eyes.

"I don't pay wolves no mind if they leave me well enough alone." The hunter speaks, shifting uncomfortably. He has known girls who hunted from other villages, but not like this woman. His pronunciation of wolf sounds strange, almost like he has a slight lisp. He crouches down, staring at the remains of the elk. A ballista shot would be overkill for this creature, but the tiny point of the arrowhead carried the same destructive force if not more.

"I usually hunt bigger game. I try to hunt the dangerous types that threaten people. My pop used to always say wolves were the family type. Loyal and dangerous when one of their own was threatened." As Erevan talks the girl smiles at him.

"Indeed and as such. They're fiercely loyal. I was raised around wolves so they are just as many people to me as any other. I understand them better too. Though I've made improvements on dealing with people I've noticed." She tears the skin off the front two legs and begins to work on the hind ones. The ripping sound of flesh from flesh sounding like tearing fabric as her gloves gripped the hide with purpose. "Do you often come hunting out here?"

"I was on my way towards Yokind-Burg looking for work. Something new to hunt, somewhere new to go, just to get out of my own head. Guess you could say I have wanderlust. So I might be around these parts again, but I have been on the move for some time." The hunter's eyes peer from under his helmet, unflinching at the sight of gore, but his expression is soft. The death of animals is not something he relishes. However, knowing it is going to feed others softens the blow.

"I see. I live near Ranga so the Barbarian Kingdoms are my home. I like to switch up the mountains I hunt on occasion just to make sure I don't impact the environment. Though my true prey is not so easily hunted to death as much as I wish it was. I'm a werewolf hunter by trade. Due to personal reasons, I hate lycanthropes with a passion, and they hate me. That is how I prefer it though." She tears the hide from the hind legs and begins to pull the skin up along its spine to pull off the rest. The hide around the head was mangled but she didn't seem to care about the quality of the pelt. The wind shifted for a moment and the hunter could smell a scent of mint coming from the woman. "There is plenty of work around these parts I find. Are you chosen? That significantly helps job opportunities."

The armored hunter stops and considers her question. Chosen? Was his dreams of grandeur visions or fantasies. He had grown far beyond the talents of any hunter in his village but did that make him special or Chosen.

"Alright, let's say I am open to hunting werewolves as they are monsters. And that I am willing to follow up any job opportunity wherever it may be. How do I determine if I am chosen?" The hunter stops, realizing he stood up and started pacing as he talked. His tracks through the snow are now dug deep. As are the tracks his mind is going through internally.

"The easiest way is to try and use a waystone. If you manage to teleport then you are. If not, you aren't. I had one near my family home so I learned I was one when I was four." She looked up at the sky with a nostalgic if melancholic look on her face "Good times back then. Not to say now isn't good times. Just different. At the very least I'm satisfied." She looked at the crossbow he was carrying and shook her head "Never cared for crossbows. The reload time takes too long and it doesn't have as much punch as a properly strung bow."

"I really enjoy cranking the draw weight beyond that of what any human could pull. The crank is the only way to operate it. In untrained hands it takes triple the time to load, aim, and shoot this weapon. My father said he learned of this model from someone who called it a siege weapon." The hunter runs a hand down his oversized crossbow, feeling the gears by the crank, the grooves down the side, and the metal end. He had spent years fine-tuning and crafting this beast; an oversized crossbow known as an arbalest. His eyes light up, like a child talking about their favorite toy. The girl's head tilted as she looked at the thing.

"Interesting. I'm curious now what is the stronger weapon. My bow or your mini siege weapon. If we ever have the same job perhaps I will be able to put it to the test. I dealt with some wights and ghosts the other day and they proved to be quite annoying with the way they transitioned from wall to wall. I prefer having an open plain to shoot across." She finally finished cutting the creature up and looked at the meat with a sigh "Always so tiring to cut the meat and its so heavy..." Despite her complaints, she took the knife and began to separate the flesh from bone and set it into leather pouches she had brought along with her "I doubt I'll be able to carry more than a third of this beast. It's simply too large."

"I haven't even begun to consider what magical application could do to enhance my little weapon here. Your bow is truly something spectacular. In a straight competition, your bow would win, but my design is far easier to replicate so others may benefit from it.” The hunter looks towards the girl with honest excitement.

Erevan looks down at the elk's remains and ponders what his next moves need to be. He'll need food and perhaps waiting for another animal to come along would take long. A thought crosses his mind and he smiles.

“If you don't mind I would love to help you carry some of this back to wherever you are going. Then you could point me in the direction of the nearest waystone."

The woman looks up at him. Her eyes carrying a different feeling this time. He would feel as if he was a piece of meat in front of a butcher. Like she was figuring out how to take each piece of him apart in the most efficient way. Like he was prey. Her eyes close for a moment before they open and they no longer hold that feeling.

"I'm not one to normally invite people to accompany me. Both because people could be lycanthropes trying to hunt me and because my girlfriend might get the wrong idea. However, you seem not to be a lycanthrope and I would be the best to know. Very well, in fact to reach my home from here you have to use the waystone so you'll get to test whether you are chosen rather quickly. Take this and help pack it up then" She pulls out another knife with a bone handle and hands it to him holding the blade.

The hunter takes the blade from the woman. He puts his other hand to his mouth and bites the tips of his glove. Pulling it off, he spits it into the snow and takes the knife to one of his fingertips. With a slight nick, he lets a drop of blood hit the ground.

"No magic healing. Just a man." Burkwood holds his fingertip out to her. "I can help finish quartering the beast, I have some cloth we can wrap it in, and if you want we can debone some of the larger bits. Hips and shoulders will weigh us down if it's of any concern."She chuckled as she watched the blood well at the tip of his finger

"Ironically that blade is silver treated so it would have made even a lycanthrope bleed normally. However, the intent shines through seeing as you didn't know that. We will debone most of it, yes. Just keep the femurs since Kodo and Kiija enjoy them." She goes back to cutting, working with an efficiency that tells just how often she butchered animals.

Erevan turns the knife over in his hand looking at the blade. He smiles at his own mistake before he begins to help with the beast. She separates the legs and tied them up with some rope before putting them in the hide she tore off of the creature, starting to work on its rump and separating its flank into foot-long slices. Erevan works diligently and cleanly with an almost scientific procedure to his butchering.

Erevan pauses his work, finding it hard to move his head downward, and continues the process with his restrictive helmet on. The opening for his eyes is not very large and limits his downward range of vision. The girl notices this and turns to him as she separates the last of the meat on the back half of the elk.

"Would it not be easier without the helmet? I personally don't wear headgear since it interferes with my vision. It's more important to be able to see my target than be defended when you attack from range. Is it not the same case with your ballista?" She casts a glance to the weapon before up to the helmet with a curious expression.

The hunter opens his mouth, ready to say something, to defend his choice of headwear. Nothing comes out. He freezes for a second before planting the knife in the snow. He raises his hands up to his helm and removes it. His black hair falls down slightly, curly, and a mess from helmet hair.

"Not exactly sure if this changes things." He mutters.

"Ah, A Crow. Fair enough. It doesn't. If it's uncomfortable you should just keep it off." She begins to pack up the meat she could carry after strapping her bow to her back with a leather strap. Using the same strap to attach the bundle of legs to her back she began to put the pouches of meat into her pack. "I don't really care what a person is as long as they're not a lycanthrope." Once the pack was full she shouldered it with a grunt, clearly struggling under the weight of the meat. It was still a sizable amount of meat that just went to show the woman had at least some strength "Oh right. I always forget to introduce myself. You can call me Celise." She offered him a blood-covered gloved hand to shake

"I am Erevan. It is good to have met you." The hunter shakes the hand of the woman. Fully embracing that he will get blood on his hand.

Erevan goes back up the hill to collect his sled, throwing his ballista down on it. He brings it down to Celise and they both throw down their supplies on it. They both grab one of the reins of the sled and begin to pull it together.

"Let the scavengers have the rest. This should be good for a while. There's a waystone hidden in a cave in this forest so we'll be able to get where we're going." Celise nods and begins to tromp back towards the forest she came out of through her own tracks left in the snow. As they start to walk the atmosphere she gives off changes to become something more chilly and sharp as she transitions into watching the forest for signs of movement. Erevan slips his helm on as they begin to walk.

"Let me know if the weight is getting to you. I know a spell that can lighten the weight for a couple of minutes. I usually use it for long days dragging my bolter around, but seems the waystones make overland travel much easier." Erevan tries to walk in her tracks as to not leave more tracks than necessary.

"I should be fine." As they walk she doesn't seem to talk much moving forward. At least not until they got to a cave that was mostly covered with a snowdrift hiding it from sight. Kicking the snowdrift inwards with her boots she walked in with the frozen water stuck to her feet. Inside was a pillar that seemed like it would be holding up the cave if it was slightly bigger. However, Celise gestured to it nonchalantly

"A waystone. Follow me if you can. You'll see something like a map in your head. You want the one west of Ranga and slightly down." She grabs her pack off the sled with the meat and elk legs before she nods to Erevan. “This is where we part. Stay safe.”

She touched the waystone and it lit up with runic symbols of some unknown language before space seemed to fold in on itself around Celise as a portal-like window appeared in front of him. Displaying a different snowy view of a cabin.

"Here goes nothing." Erevan steps forward, taking a deep breath in, before touching the waystone. He does exactly as instructed. In awe of sensing a world, land, continents he never knew existed.

He selects the waystone next to Ranga, the town of Yokind-Burg. A portal opens up before him showing a snowy city street. He steps through the portal.

There is snow on the ground, but there ends Erevan’s familiar sights. The buildings around are large and built of stone. Nothing like the hunting lodges he had seen in the wilds. And the droves of people moving through the streets alarmed him. He had never been around so many people. He pulls his helmet down with one hand, making sure it's secure, worrying about his black hair. He didn’t want to be treated like a crow.