Fantasy Understory (1x1 with Selenophilic)

[Koraki]

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Magic and mundane have intermingled for centuries. Creatures of myth and legend walk the modern world alongside humans. But old habits die hard, and old stereotypes die even harder. Two vastly different--yet similar--individuals cross paths, and a story begins that will take such an unexpected turn neither of them could have forseen. ​

 

[Sele]

• Name Daphne
  Age 27
  Species Dryad
• Appearance Dryad - Natural. Daphne is a nature spirit incarnate. Her myths root her to one specific oak tree. Her skin is comprised of an oak-like wood-grain smoothly blended with flesh. Her ears are elvish in their elongation, though they are jagged at the narrowing termination - a few microgreens sprout at the ends. The dryad's head sprouts a long blend of flora and hair, which reaches to her lower back. This blend of vines, twigs, small flowers, and leaflets collectively tinge toward a woody hue, warmed with strands of sunlit gold in the way daylight filters down through branches.
  
  In both forms, her eyes remain blue - a dark variety that carried the brightness of a summer gloaming. Not full daylight, not night's dark. The in-between glow that is altogether too brief a magic each day. Similarly in both forms, Daphne stands at a willowy 5'3".
  
  Human - Glamour. The world used to seem a bigger place. Over the centuries, human populations simply continued to grow and reach and take from more and more of the wild and mythical places. To adapt, to get by - to survive - many legendary creatures adopted glamours in human design as not to be consumed beneath the tread of human progress. But in way, this means that they are anyway.
  
  It is but a mask, though, isn't it?
  
  The young dryad Daphne uses her human glamour to mask her inhuman features. What remains is a golden blonde woman with blue eyes standing at 5'3".
  
  Personality
• ✓ Easygoing ✓ Charming ✓ Perceptive
  ✗ Guileful ✗ Capricious ✗ Indecisive

• Abilities Daphne's powers are connected to her oak tree. If it dies, she dies. If it suffers, she suffers, as do her powers. This is her greatest weakness.
  
  Passive:
  ✓ Low-light vision: The dryad's ability to see clearly despite minimal light.
  ✓ Longevity: As long as the dryad's tree is healthy, she may live the equivalent of several human lifetimes. This potential is not typically fully realized anymore in the modern world.
  ✓ Healing bond: As long as her tree is healthy, if the dryad's body becomes injured, the tree's strength adds to her healing capacity.
  ✗ She cannot regrow anything that is cleaved off.
  
  Active:
  ✓ Glamour - human mask: The dryad has only invested in one glamour to resemble a specific human.
  ✓ Bark armor: Equivalent to medium armor, she may harden her skin into bark for protection.
  ✓ Protective oak: The dryad may shelter inside of the core of her oak tree to hide totally unseen and protected within it.
  ✓ Green thumb: Due to her understanding and connection to nature, her touch can help vitalize flora of any type that could be found in a forest.
  ✗ She has no influence over desert, tundra, or oceanic types of plants.
  ✓ Flora's whisper: If there is something that is threatening to plants on a larger scale than the natural activity of ants or isolated ailments, the dryad may perceive the subtle plant-whispers of the danger if her mind is clear enough and homing in to perceive them.

• Occupation Within the human world, Daphne gets by as a gardener at a rural greenhouse. Is it any surprise a Dryad would fall into this line of work?

• OOC: FC: Sarah Gadon

 

[Koraki]

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name Achak​

age 29​

species Wendigo​

appearance His true form stands at nine feet, with ashy brown skin stretched taught over a skeletal frame. Around his neck and a little ways down his chest and back is long brown fur, like the fluff around a wolf. His arms hang low, fingers tipped with long black talons. He has no face, only a deer-like skull with fangs and hollow sockets. A pair of antlers sprouts from his head, each branch ending in a dull point.​

​

His humanoid form is a mere six feet, with tan skin and light eyes. He keeps his dark hair short, and likes to wear hoodies and dark jeans to hide the myriad of scars crisscrossing his body. Due to a past injury, the left side of his mouth has been twisted into a snarl, revealing his sharp teeth. To cover this, he often wears a black face mask.​

personality introverted ● curious ● loyal ● distrustful ● intelligent ● instinct-driven​

​

abilities Like most wendigos, Achak is a born hunter. He senses are far greater than any humans, and he has a predator's reflexes. His other racial ability is the mimicking of voices he has heard, a skill used by generations to lure prey.​

 

[Sele]

Into the Woods
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“Thanks so much, darlin', you have a marvelous weekend, now!” droll Daphne concluded a week of charming customers at the greenhouse. She only mildly played after the local accent and colloquialisms. Her natural tone was less saccharine and less rounded in far fewer darlins and sweethearts. Frankly, Daphne would feel like an absolute sycophant toward humans if at least the customers who made their way down that country road weren't genuinely so mild and considerate.

Of all the human things the dryad disguised herself as, a clerk at a garden store was by far the most pleasurable.

Though, the weekend had arrived, and the small business simply didn't hold enough revenue during that time to justify keeping open hours. So, Daphne went about her routine closing up, and eventually stepped out into the chilly night air. Although she tended to plants all day in such pleasantly earthy-clean air, nothing beat stepping out into the open world and taking a drink of those fine hints of wilderness that still existed.

The glamoured dryad appeared as little more than an unimposing honey-blonde at 5'3”, dressed in beige lady's trousers and a cream work blouse. Her apron and gardening gloves had been left back inside of the shop, along with the bulky boots and floppy-brimmed hat. She donned flip-flops now that smacked between her small heels and the maintained gravel in the parking lot as she made her way toward her sea green Vespa.

She did find that she enjoyed a nice, colorful scarf around her head when she drove, and on nights like tonight where it wasn't quite bar hour, and no one would be driving this particular back road, Daphne skipped on her helmet. Off that little scooter went, with the woman's peach headscarf waving a peppy corner in her wake.

She wasn't headed back to her small, rented apartment, though. Her wheels turned north instead – away from town. Passed even the state park signs for turnoffs into the national forest where humans could fish or camp not far from the road. Their hiking trails didn't venture overly deep into those woods either, fortunately, not by even a young dryad's measure.

That little Vespa purred along the empty, darkening road, while the woman aboard hummed her own tune, too. Perhaps another dainty woman would be afraid to journey the way Daphne did. Though Daphne wasn't just some other dainty little sweethearting belle. Her heart was rooted in these woods. Her soul was planted beneath dark, beloved branches.

The dryad was off to spend her weekend away from humanity. She longed to be near to her tree. Every dryad had one. In part, she'd learned, this was why there were so few of her kind anymore, too. Humans expanded into any forest they could. Fortunately, her tree stood protected – for now – within a national forest. Far enough even from nature-loving hikers – for now.

It was a strain to spend the week this far away, even if the quaint little garden store was relatively close. She worried about it, though while she lived, she knew it at least wasn't poisoned or cut down (or else she'd not still be living).

Daphne turned her scooter down a national park workers' access road that went entirely unmonitored even during busier, warmer days. Her little vehicle bounced along that dirt road for awhile, chasing deeper into the darkness night and dense branches orchestrated. Should she be afraid of coyotes? Wolves? Bears? No. The dryad respected those creatures, and comprehended their reactions to humans tended to be due to human misunderstanding and hubris.

When the road ended at a rusty, thick chain and a patch of leafy underbrush, Daphne hopped off her Vespa and rolled it around the minor barricade. All that lay beneath her sandals now were pine needles and packed earth. Far enough back, she leaned her vehicle against a tree, and out of habit, clicked its squeaky security alarm on. Don't try to steal her Vespa from the edges of remote forest!

She abandoned her peach scarf with her Vespa, and the keys for that matter, too. Any human accessories that burdened her beautifully lonely walk into the dense dimness were either left across her seat - hardly a moment spared to lift it and use the actual storage - or trailed in her wake as Daphne soaked in the atmosphere after a full week's absence.

She was home.

Even her flip-flops were eased free and left behind in one footstep after another. Her glamour, too. The illusion eased away in gradual evanescence. Where her ears had been rounded and pinkish as a human's would be, oak-like wood-grain eased forth and elongated toward a seeming elvish points, save that the termination was jagged and sprouted the tiniest microgreens. Her long, honey-blonde hair that had once bounced in a perky ponytail lengthened with a blend of flora, too, tinging toward a woody hue while still keeping a blend of that warm sunshine. She might have seemed like she was preparing for a bohemian wedding, aesthetically mixing in twigs, lavender, and other tidbits plucked from nature on in, but this was her, Daphne's real appearance.

Overall, her lightly tanned, Caucasian complexion gained hints of wood grain imprint blended with tissue in a pleasant way (at least, she had always thought so anyway. Though she was a dryad and her opinion was biased).

Her eyes remained blue, a dark variety that carried the brightness of a summer gloaming. Not full daylight, not night's dark. The in-between glow that is altogether too brief a magic each day.

Daphne's journey into the woods continued well toward midnight, as her tree was nestled far from these human outskirts. Far from the marring belt the main, 2-lane road sliced between portions of the forest. Rare human footfalls ever fell through here during the last century.

As Daphne neared her tree, she felt its beckon and comfort. She could see it in her mind, and longed for it all the more. It was a proud oak with tangling mazes for branches. It stood in a small clearing among evergreens, though her tree never succumbed to winter either.

Though she paused. Something felt intuitively amiss. There was a low hum of dread at the back of her mind that she couldn't quite decipher. Deer understood the feeling, though Daphne's elongated ears, nor heightened sense of smell determined anything genuinely, concretely present.

That made her concern increase.

Her pace slowed to make her rolling footfalls silent. She shed her blouse and work trousers - her body beneath was shielded now by a conscious call upon her magic to turn her skin even more bark-like, and although the nature spirit wasn't concerned about nudity, nonetheless, her features became obscured by oaken bark. The light colors of the clothes would have ruined her camouflage, and it rustled too easily on twigs.

The dryad lurked nearer, until her tree came into view between a cover of shrubbery and branches. She observed it lovingly for a moment before her eyes narrowed again in defensive scrutiny about the area.

What was here?

 

[Koraki]

It had been a long time since humans set foot in this part of the forest. They tended to stay on the fringes, near the rivers and cabins they built. Not that Achak was bothered. If anything, the absence of humans meant his hunts could go on undisturbed. Besides, the humans would never come close to any of his kind.

It had been a long, long time since wendigos openly hunted mankind. Humans just weren’t easy prey anymore, with their newly created weapons and armor. A handful of them could take down a wendigo fairly quickly, and it had been done. Still, though, no one trusted a wendigo.

The soft pine needles muffled his footsteps as Achak trekked through the forest. The shadows clung to his body like tar, deepening the spaces between his ribs and darkening his fur. His skull and antlers glinted like ivory in the moon. He moved as a predator, hunched down on all fours and shifting with the moon and clouds overhead. His eyes scanned the surrounding woods slowly and thoroughly, watching for any sign of movement through deceivingly empty sockets. His deer-like ears twitched, the only outward sign of his impatience. It had been so long since his last meal.

The breeze shifted suddenly, and the mouthwatering scent of a young buck wafted toward Achak. The wendigo stiffened, turning his massive skull from one side to the other as he tried to pinpoint the source. Found you. The muscles in his legs flexed as he readied himself. Then, with a powerful leap he shot out from the trees, using his height to his advantage as he bounded through the forest.

The buck was munching on some vegetation in a group of evergreens, blissfully unaware of the predator that stalked it. Achak was hidden behind a large oak tree, one taloned hand resting on the trunk as he knelt in the brush. Excitement coursed through him, and he curled his fingers, digging his black talons into the bark to try and keep himself from striking too early.

Another movement caught his attention and he hesitated. The buck, apparently, sensed something as well, because its head snapped up toward the small noise the movement had created. Achak readied to spring. He couldn’t let this one get away. He wouldn’t.

 

[Sele]

The shadows of the woodlands were familiar to the dryad, and the gloom did little to lessen her vision. The dense tangle of branches splayed out from tall trees kept the forest floor dimmed here even during the day. Though, the dryad found herself ill at ease among them now, and that intuitive sense only deepened.

Why...?

Daphne waited. Still, she saw nothing to explain the ambiguous dread that seemed to permeate the very air. She couldn't even hear the faint whispers of the surrounding flora... it was all silent. Then, there was a rustling that made all of her muscles tense. A buck's head had risen up – and the movement caught her notice. Adrenaline rushed... - then she released that rise of tension on a quiet exhale. Was she suddenly so skittish of a small buck? Had human society affected her somehow...?

Though, what had made the buck react as suddenly as it had...? In truth, it had been the subtle rustling that came with her own human clothes being discarded in favor of natural bark covering. It'd been quiet, but it'd been enough. Though she did not consider this while her mind was clouded with trepidation. No...Whatever she was sensing, she suspected, was what spooked the buck, she was confident.

Whether the buck had detected dryad or wendigo, however, the dryad was confident that she had not been startled by a mere buck in the forest. They both had been disturbed by something else. Daphne had never encountered a wendigo before. They were perhaps more rare these days than dryads, to the extent that they were even mythical to her kind, too. Thus, Daphne didn't even begin to anticipate what really hunted there that night.

What she did know, however, was that something ominous drew nearer to her tree. Her tree.

“...”

She didn't want to encounter whatever frightening creature deepened the forest's shadows with a sense of doom... but she could die if it attacked her tree. That's when her anxiety elevated. Was there an evil entity here hunting her precious oak? Hunting dryads? She couldn't risk that possibility...

Then she saw it. A great, looming nightmare only partially visible through branches. In a way, what she could see of it was awe-inspiring, but fear for her tree permeated through her perception. From her vantage, the monstrous beast stalked beside her tree now... it even touched the oak's familiar bark. She felt an inward shiver at the sight of that contact, genuinely uncertain if the sensation was due to the creature's claw resting on the trunk, or her own imagination fed too much fear.

Her wild horror blinded her to the fact that the buck was on the other side of that great oak. All Daphne saw were the hints of a living nightmare about to try to kill her through the desecration of her tree!

It was so tall... with macabre anatomy and aesthetic. What raw nightmare had spawned this mythical beast? Truly, she almost fell to a panicked paralysis. But she couldn't succumb. She had to will herself to do more than be a bystander to her own demise.

So the dryad rose up from her cover, rustling through the shrubbery. Her bark skin gained in grainy density across her body, remaining softer around her joints for mobility. Daphne dashed into the clearing to recklessly hurl herself at the monster's right side – which was closest to her. Her emergence definitely spooked the buck entirely and it sprinted off as fast as it could dart and leap.

“How dare you...!” the offended dryad rasped, near guttural. She was no great predator or hunter, but what dryad wouldn't lash out at the risk of their tree perishing? She was adroit and quick, and aimed to at least jar the monster with a collision of her smaller shoulder into its side. The creature was significantly taller than her, which added to her terror... but what choice did she have? She would have to plan on the go... one frightened, determined step at a time.

 

[Koraki]

Achak stood and made ready to attack. But a flurry of movement to his right caused the buck to dash off. Anger swept through the wendigo faster than he’d like to admit, and he turned his head to see what exactly had ruined his chance of a meal. Or maybe it’ll be a substitute.

The sight of a female creature hurtling toward him caught him off guard. He was so surprised that he failed to dodge her in time. He grunted as he felt her body collide with his, though it barely did anything. She was a small thing, only just coming up to his chest. A swipe of his claws would send her flying. He stepped back and glowered down at her. She had strangely textured skin and flowers in her hair. Not exactly what one would find so late in the forest. A thought came to him, trickling in past the anger and killing instinct.

A tree-like girl, coming at him with such fire in her eyes, while he had been digging his talons into the only oak tree in the vicinity…

The anger faded, replaced with a wary sort of understanding. He lowered himself into a squatting position, gazing at her with his head tilted slightly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he spoke. His voice was raspy and tinged with irritation. “There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.” I’m not here to hurt your stupid tree, he wanted to say. You scared off my dinner.

Some primal part of his brain hissed at him to eat her as recompense. It was only a brief thought, and he dismissed it as quickly as it came. Not only were dryads tougher than they seemed, but it would feel wrong attacking another creature of the woods. Maybe, if he left now, he could still catch that deer.

 

[Sele]

Daphne collided into the tall brute, only then processing fully what she had hurled herself at. The skull with empty eyes... the antlers... the murderous talons like knives – each one of them! This was no strange guise or neutral sort of beast. Was... was this a...-? She daren't even think the name, let alone speak it – such things might empower it somehow. She didn't know, only that frightening entities seemed to operate that way.

What could she possibly do here? Even if not for the likelihood of it possessing terrible, eldritch power, this w-...wendigo...? towered over her and was armed with brutal, natural weaponry! Her mind raced – if she could touch the roots of her tree they could be raised up to trip and possibly entangle the creature. She didn't have time to think farther ahead than that – not with those empty, ominous eye sockets jerked her direction – claws poised.

Then, the unexpected happened. The looming monster shrank down to perch at the ground. Its hollow shadows for eyes remained upon her, though, and even squatting, the wendigo was still roughly her height. Eye to eye with a nightmare... how fascinating and dreadful – especially now, when it spoke!

The voice was gravelly and masculine. A male wendigo. Did it matter if it was male or female if it might claw her or her tree either way?

I'm not going to hurt you.

The diplomatic speech struck Daphne into deeper bewilderment. Though, she, too, was a creature of nature and myth... looks could be deceiving, of course, but if this were truly a wendigo...- “You aren't here to destroy us?” She questioned cautiously, with us referencing herself and the oak.

Daphne slid away from where the wendigo squatted and eased partially around the side of the oak. Although it might have been futile, she felt a little more secure with her tree shielding between herself and the creature.

Though she didn't want to goad him through further accusing questions... She would risk this being a trick and speak to him.

“...then what were you doing here...?” she whispered around the tree. Uncertain as her voice carried, the dryad's eyes were bright with fascination and wonder. She'd absolutely never encountered anything – anyone – like the figure perched on the ground before her!

Then, she made the connection. “The buck,” she breathed on a realizing sigh. “Oh... I was afraid you were here to- ...nevermind that. Blessed branches... I apologize for disturbing your hunt, sir.” She humbly offered, hoping to maintain this more peaceful exchange over violence.

“Perhaps, we may make a peace pact between one another? Please... please tell no one of this tree, nor harm it yourself. If you do this, I will ensure that only the most favored flora to deer sprout in this clearing. They will gather – I know the flowers and the greens they love best – and you shall have your hunts. Can we come to terms in this way?”

It was a gambit, but if she could appease the predator, perhaps she might have accidentally discovered an unintended protector for her oak, too. Daphne eased out from hiding again, slowly and cautiously, hoping that the fact she wasn't outright hiding anymore would warm him to a peaceful arrangement.

"There are not many of us left - like you and I. Let us help one another...?" She tested, hoping this appeal might reach him. Daphne tried to sound more confident than she truly was. Her anxious smile and the quaver in her tone no doubt easily betrayed her courage as false.

"I'm Daphne." She should at least give her name if she were offering an accord.

 

[Koraki]

So, he really was talking to a dryad. The thought turned over in his mind as he watched the small creature duck behind her tree. He understood her need for distance, and a tiny part of him wondered if he too should back away.

The dryad’s face flickered with understanding. Good, then she didn’t really think he was coming to harm her tree. The last thing Achak needed was an enemy. Though they were just as rare as his kind—maybe even more so—there were tales of powerful dryads who could command the very earth to trap and kill their enemies. This small little female could quite possibly put him in a bad spot if he wasn’t careful.

She was startlingly polite, apologizing for the intrusion on his hunt. Achak didn’t know what to say at first. It turned out that he didn’t really need to, because she continued on, and what she had to say surprised him even more. “A pact,” he said rather dryly. Thoughts of the fae flashed behind his eyes, how their deals and promises often brought suffering to the other party. He had no idea if dryads were as treacherous, but try as he might, he could detect no double meanings to her—Daphne’s—words. He could only smell her fear, though whether that was because she was afraid of him or for the safety of her tree in general, he didn’t really know.

She was right, about there not being many like them left. Other races like orcs, fae, and elves had fallen into step with the humans rather easily. Even werewolves and vampires had some success. But nature-born races like dryads and wendigos were in direct conflict with humans. One opposed their industrial advances and one had hunted them. So, there hadn’t been much room in this new world for their species.

A reliable hunting ground would benefit him immensely, if the dryad held up her deal. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut about where her tree was. And who exactly would he tell? He hadn’t seen another wendigo in a while, not since his sister decided to leave for South America.

Making the decision, Achak stood slowly, careful not to scare Daphne or provoke an attack. “Deal.” He nodded down at her. Then remembering he had not given his own name, said, “You can call me Achak. I’ll be back tomorrow, same time.” Though the thought of waiting another night without food made his stomach twist in disappointment, he knew there was no chance any deer would come to this area. That buck was sure to have alerted any other deer in the vicinity that there was a predator nearby. Maybe he could try and snatch a rabbit somewhere?

 

[Sele]

Daphne was careful not to let the lingering dread in the air or in her system making her heart race overtly show. She didn't want to stand there quavering in fear, gulping at breaths like prey being caught. She had no idea what these signs would do for a wendigo and if these would trigger a predator reaction. She couldn't help whether he could scent fear or not.

The dryad also made the wild gamble that if she spoke politely and in a way to show a favorable opportunity to the walking nightmare, he would become focused on that and not any violent, horrific tendency. The creature rasped a thought on the offered pact. Daphne nodded encouragingly, slowly taking in a long breath to keep her body steady.

Do not rush him. Do not show excessive eagerness... but oh, the dryad was desperately hopeful the wendigo would accept the terms. What a way to turn a dangerous situation into one that protected herself and her tree...! Meeting the creature more frequently and knowing that it would lurk near her tree were things she would have to cope with if he accepted to begin with.

The time that the wendigo took to contemplate the options of the proposed pact was reasonable and fair, though on her side, the moments stretched and weighed with such dread and foreboding for Daphne, though. She split her focus between watching for signs of the wendigo suddenly rejecting the terms and turning violent, and in monitoring her breathing and body language to keep these as tranquil as she could muster. What a task.

Standing forward from behind her tree, exposed without the shield of her oak – that made her meditation toward as peaceful a pose as she could manage that much more difficult, too. Creatures of nature, kindred in this way or not... the wendigo was disturbing. And then he began to stand again – slowly, which suggested peaceful intent for now – but even that gradual, looming rise delivered its own signature of fear.

Daphne swallowed and kept her eyes on the forest monster, following its empty hollows up with her dark blues. Here it was, she felt, the moment of truth. The dryad was still aware of her proximity to the oak's roots and how she could lash them up from the ground if she needed to...

Deal he spoke. He agreed. Mercy of the forest, he agreed. She was so relieved she lost focus on her controlled breathing. The bark armor that obscured across her torso began to rise and fall visibly. Her heart thud with the release to finally, properly gulp the air she'd been depriving of her body.

“Deal.” She spoke suddenly, to ensure the pact was shown as accepted on both sides before there might be any change of heart. “Achak of the dark forest – we have an accord!” She breathed somewhere between a frightened tremble and a relieved cheer.

“I will begin gathering the seeds and berries necessary. When you return, this clearing will be a deer's irresistible paradise, darlin',” Daphne was so relieved, her mind had slipped into the customer service voice she put on in her garden shop. The dryad didn't naturally use such frilly endearments. Well, this was one of the most important deals she'd ever closed on, so the droll service habit manifesting had some grounds, didn't it?

She knew the acorns from her oak were also a great draw for deer. She would go collect blackberries, flowering forbs, and trailing beans to scatter about the clearing and in the deceptive safety around its edges. The wendigo would find the influence of the dryad when he did return, too – she took some pride in that. For when he would return, she envisioned, this clearing would be ripe in tender greens and desirable berries and pods. Whenever these two parted ways that evening, she would set immediately to her task.

One might question if a dryad would be comfortable with the hunting carnage to come. Well, it tended to be humans so lost from nature, sheltered in their cities, who forgot the natural place hunting had in the world. Mass slaughter as humans also committed – well, this was what she was opposed to. A predator hunting its meals? Culling the great herds (especially now with normal predators diminished by human slaughter, too)? No. The dryad understood the natural place a predator had in the cycle of things.

Would she want to watch the wendigo eat from a kill, though? Probably not. Just imagining its sharp claws and unnerving fangs making work of a captured deer made her skin race with chills, and she willed the vision away.

“Until tomorrow evening then, Achak, a prosperous hunt to you.” Daphne bid. Inwardly, she hoped she had prepared a truly worthwhile pact. A deal with a devil, as humans might say, was not a simple matter.

 

[Koraki]

Dawn came early, the first rays of sun peeking through the branches of the trees. Achak stirred from his slumber, curled up in the recesses of his cave. It was littered with bones and remains, the freshest ones staining the entrance to the cave with their blood. As it turned out, he had managed to find a rabbit last night. It was a skinny one, hardly a mouthful, but it did serve to take the edge off his hunger.

The wendigo stretched and yawned, a red tongue flashing as he opened his mouth. He went through his morning ritual: get up, go to the stream outside for a drink and maybe a snack, and then back to his cave. Achak didn’t like to hunt during the day, instead opting to explore the forest a little. Except, this time, he decided he’d go toward the edges today. Maybe even to the lake, which was a beautiful sight this time of year.

Of course, that the chances of encountering a human became more likely the closer he got to the lake. Humans liked to build cabins and campsites in that area. If he shifted into his smaller form, though, he might be a little more inconspicuous.

Achak took a deep breath, concentrating and visualizing his disguise. The sensation of shifting was always uncomfortable. His skin felt itchy and hot. Bones ground against each other and joints were dislocated and relocated in new places. His antlers made disturbing cracking sounds as they shrunk and receded into his skull, which shrunk in turn into a more human shape. The whole process took less than a minute, but it was still an unpleasant experience.

He kept several articles of clothing hidden behind a rock in his cave. He dressed quickly, shivering from the lack of fur in the cool air. After he was ready, he made sure to put on his mask to cover his facial deformities. Then he stumbled out into the open, taking a moment to get used to his shorter legs.

He walked for a short while, enjoying the fresh air and small critters skittering about. Eventually, he came across the road that cut through the woods and decided to follow it. He had time to kill, after all. He didn’t need to be anywhere other than the oak tree that night, when he hoped the dryad would honor her word and transform that area into a deer’s paradise,

Before he knew it, Achak had arrived at a small cluster of buildings. It was likely he was on the outskirts of the nearby town. Idly, he wondered if it would be wise to turn back. Then he remembered that he was in his human guise, so he should be okay. Right?

 

[Sele]

Daphne had intended to sleep in the forest that night. Instead, she diligently set to her side of the agreement and collected an array of seeds and berries, and made her oak's clearing a deer's absolute Eden. Everything was in fresh, young bloom – raised up by the dryad's hand.

Though, she did not stay in the woodlands that night after all.

How could she sleep in peace knowing a nightmare incarnate lurked in the darkness? Even if she made a pact with him, this Achak, she did not feel she could dream in peace after all.

Daphne left. She'd recollected her human clothes, her trail of sandals and other abandoned things around her Vespa. The dryad pulled these human trappings back on along with her veiling glamour to mask the natural wood-grain to her skin and other natural traits. She drove back to her small apartment, and tucked herself away back into the sterility of human shelter.

Living in what was a glorified box kept clean with brooms and Lysol seemed to generally keep anything wondrous at bay. Daphne had become accustomed to the box that was her apartment, but not as a home – merely a base to hide in plain sight from.

While she wished to return to the forest, desperately in fact, Daphne found it difficult to arrive sooner than expected for the dread encounter to come. So she went to her garden shop. It was a sort of in-between place existing on the borders of humanity and nature – it'd be better than staying surrounded by the white walls of her apartment living room, and less intimidating than waiting for a wendigo in the wilderness.

Daphne pulled her sea green Vespa up to her shop, gravel grinding with her halt. The blonde arrived in a fresh pair of mint green lady's trousers over a white blouse. Half of her face was masked behind huge, round, sherbet-orange sunglasses, and her hair had been held in place under a white scarf with pink polka dots.

Pink flip-flops cleared the Vespa to the gravel. As she drove up, she'd seen an unfamiliar fellow walking near her shop. A potential customer? She normally didn't open on Saturdays, but she had already decided she was spending her daylight hours here over the forest, so why not open for special hours, too? So... she didn't turn him away. Instead, thought to try to charm him on in to make a purchase.

“Hello there, darlin', are you interested in the garden store? I'm just about to open up, why don't you come on in, hm?” She cajoled in that human charm.

Daphne plucked her sunglasses from her face and set her dark blue eyes on the stranger while perking up an inviting smile.

 

[Koraki]

While he managed to look passable as a human, Achak certainly wasn’t looking to make himself the object of anyone’s attention. They tended to ask him questions, especially about his mask, and he wasn’t in the mood for it today. So when the (admittedly pretty) woman called out to him as he was walking past her, he almost ignored her.

Then he registered what she said and paused. Hello there, darlin’, she had said. It stuck out to him because it was…familiar somewhere. Which was odd, because he didn’t make a habit of talking to humans.

He turned to get a better look at her, peering out from beneath his hood. The woman was smiling at him, dressed in colorful clothing that reminded him somewhat of a watermelon. Her eyes were hidden behind orange sunglasses, so he couldn’t really discern their color. Still, there was something there. Something that tickled him in the back of his mind. Like a small voice was saying You should know this. You should know her. But he couldn’t put a finger on it.

Then she took the sunglasses off and he was met with the same blue eyes he saw on that dryad the night before. He quirked an eyebrow in surprise. He was hardly the only nonhuman to don a disguise, but he certainly didn’t expect a dryad to mingle with humans. Still, she mentioned a garden store, so maybe that’s what held her interest here.

With a jolt, Achak realized he still hadn’t answered her. “Ah, well, you see…” he hesitated. Did she recognize him? Most of all, what if he made a mistake, and this was just a regular woman? After a moment of deliberation, he shrugged. “I’m really just taking a walk, but I guess I could stop in.”

 

[Sele]

Now, Daphne had surveyed this lone wanderer. Sure enough, there were others out this morning, though others were in small, conversational clusters while they window-shopped or met in passing. Here, though, near her garden shop, the colorful blonde found a figure who was on his own, masked, and further obscured by a hoodie. She had the briefest flashback to the sense of gathering darkness in the forest shadows the night before... Let's not be silly now and spook yourself, the dryad chided herself inwardly. This was just some introvert out for a dose of fresh, morning air! The poor thing, really... though still, Daphne kept just a touch more alert anyway.

Whenever Daphne played at being human among humans, she wore an inviting charisma to blend in. She was just a charming garden shop keep, end of story or interest. Despite her briefest hesitation earlier, she still had that social mask to deliver, so Daphne began a walk toward the store entrance as a means to urge an uncertain customer along. Naturally, she cast a smiling glance over her shoulder to further encourage this reluctant fella along. She feigned that she hadn't noticed the long, silent stare. Her brows stitched in subtle question, but she kept that bright, crimson smile aglow beneath.

She paused a few paces away, finding he hadn't yet budged. Though at least she learned he did speak English – she'd wondered if maybe he hadn't for his strange lingering and lack of answer. Ah, was he about to decline and meander on elsewhere? In a way, she felt relieved that he might, but on the other hand – with that twinge of spooked intuition, a part of her wanted to observe him for a little longer just to clear away any lingering sense of nightmare she recalled. Surely there was no reason to have felt a sense of unease, she assured herself, and having the guy wander her shop would surely demonstrate that. At least this was what Daphne persuaded herself to believe.

“Hey now, darlin', that's the spirit!” She encouraged happily. “Come on in and have a walk around the greenhouse. I promise it'll be a lovelier stroll than what those other shops can provide,” she jested about the other stores along the way with a wave of one hand in their general direction and a friendly laugh. “And I'll brew up some coffee, how's that sound?” She asked – more of a social, rhetorical question.

He didn't look familiar to the folks she'd seen around that town, and they didn't really seem to be so dedicated to covering up like this guy was. Then again, she didn't go out to any social events or try to know anyone there. People could assume the bright, charming blonde did have a booked schedule, and she was fine with the perception if any of her customers had it. 'Oops, I do apologize sugar, but I just can't make that Saturday work!'

Though, by his reclusive appearance – what, with the mask and the hoodie up, and the long pause before speaking – maybe he didn't get out either.

“Are you from around here, hun?” Daphne tested in a seemingly innocent way.

The dryad unlocked and opened the door, bracing it open with her backside to let the strange wanderer step on in first. He'd find a neatly arranged array of flora – from lush, leafy hanging pots, to healthy arrangements of flowers lined up in rows along the concrete aisles. The register's desk was near the front, facing the windows toward the road. Doors to the greenhouse were off to the right. All in all, the plants here seemed exceptionally well-tended – and they were.

Daphne strolled behind the desk, where she had a coffee pot set up on the opposite end of the counter from the register. She'd found customers seemed to really enjoy a free cup. It wasn't long before it gurgled to life and began to brew.
She flickered her dark blue gaze back to the fella. She still had the shiver at the back of her nape that wouldn't shake. Shadows among the vibrant greens just felt strange with him there.

“Do you much enjoy strolls in the national forest, too? Such nice trails, don't you think?” Daphne risked to ask, but her tone was light and as oblivious as she could manage. Though her side glance lingered on him in a mildly suspicious way. Oh, she had to remember to pluck up that smile again, it'd faltered again at another flashback to the previous night. Now just stop with that she mentally chided herself again.

This was just a regular human inflicted with introversion. And she was just still a little more spooked than she'd wanted to admit.

“Here you are now, the first, fresh cup on the morning!” Daphne pipped, sliding a paper cup across the counter.

 

[Koraki]

As he walked through the door into the shop, Achak’s certainty grew. Granted, he hadn’t been in many human garden stores, but these plants seemed…really, really, healthy. Lush, and green, and it honestly felt like he was back in the forest. In response to the woman’s question, he muttered, “Yeah, I live nearby, in the woods.”

The woman—Daphne, he now assumed—went behind the counter to prepare some coffee. Achak glanced around as he listened, taking in his surroundings. Occasionally, his eyes would flicker back to her, and sometimes he would catch her staring at him. The moments were brief, but still noticeable. Was it possible that she recognized him from last night? Part of him hoped so, that way there would be no awkward questions like Hey, you wouldn’t happen to actually be a dryad in disguise, would you?

But then, part of him hoped she didn’t. For some reason, meeting like this during the day—with no shadows or trees or night sounds—made him feel exposed and vulnerable. Which didn’t make sense. He wasn’t trapped or anything. But he was in this woman’s domain, or the one she shared with the humans at least. He was out of his element.

Achak leaned over to run his finger over the delicate petals of a bright orange flower. The action revealed his talon-like nails, and he quickly stuffed his hand into his pocket, hoping it went unnoticed. At that moment, Daphne asked another question. It was rather pointed, and he stilled for a moment. Then, he locked eyes with her, deciding to be honest. “Yes. I walked a trail last night,” he paused, then added, “Saw some deer too.” Maybe, if she had suspicions, that would be enough to solidify them.

He murmured a thanks as she presented the cup of coffee. It was one of the few human drinks he enjoyed. Although, for the moment, he made no move to drink it. To do so would be to lower is mask, and the last thing he needed was her to stare at his…abnormality.[

 

[Sele]

So he lived nearby, in the woods, did he? Daphne was confident now. This was the creature she'd met in the woods. She wasn't just being paranoid (though a sliver of doubt did still remain that she was being crazy). The golden blonde inflated slightly on a short intake of breath. “I see.” Was all she could muster while she consciously kept herself as light and busy as she could. She didn't want to seem alarmed.

Daphne's bright glance flickered from her busywork to the stranger frequently. Couldn't she just check on an uncertain customer? A weak justification. During one of those glances, when their eyes didn't lock, she caught sight of a sharp nail that was far from the typical man's type of blunted, round manicure. That sliver of doubt was dispelled now, too.

Still, she didn't know what would happen if she outright declared the realization. Would it be as summoning the monster free of this disguise? She had a pact with that particular monster, though one that had been a gambit to protect her precious tree. Would the pact protect her here if she uttered any truths to their natures? Her chest tightened, but her red lips unfurled a practiced, casual smile.

She asked her next question about the trails. He answered in a way that further confirmed what she was sure of now. There was a wendigo in her garden.

She'd offered the coffee still, keeping her friendly demeanor the best she could, but mistrust unintentionally gave a defensive tension around her eyes. Was he toying with her? Or trying to communicate? Their kinds needed to be particularly cautious while traipsing about human-taken territory. She didn't know. How could she?

While the wendigo didn't yet drink his coffee, there was a stillness and quiet between Daphne and Achak. She had a pact with the wendigo. He essentially told her who he was. Daphne finally exhaled, her narrow shoulders sinking out of the naive, upbeat pose.

“And so did I.”

She confessed that she'd walked a trail last night, too. Saw deer as well. Her heart rattled like an alarm bell and she exhaled a long breath through a slightly rounded mouth. Dark blue eyes sought to fix a gaze with this guest. This wendigo. She sought to feel out for certain that they had an understanding that they both met last night.

While in this human place, though, her deep defenses against direct talk about the other world kicked in and she asked in a less confident voice – there was an uncertain tremble in the softer volume.

“Ah, so do you like my garden shop,... darlin'? Just a few doors down is a breakfast cafe that is just to die for,” her left thumb jabbed the air as though she could directly point at this mentioned cafe. Was the dryad asking the wendigo to breakfast? Yes, she was.

“I could just... stop in and pick up a to-go order, too.” Maybe it'd be better if they sat in her shop instead. “They have ham and eggs that are just the bee's knees!” She also thought that if, perhaps, she fed the hungry wendigo, he might be less dangerous. But who was she kidding? They were dark mysteries.

Just so he didn't think she was at risk to ditch their agreement, she added. “And certainly dinner tonight, too.”

 

[Koraki]

The breakfast café was small, at least. Though, it remained to be seen whether that was a good thing or not. As soon as he had stepped inside, several eyes were drawn to him. That was to be expected of course, eyes were always drawn to movement. It still took Achak two deep breaths to keep himself from walking back out the door. He knew he looked different. Not many people with dark clothes and a mask were without bad intentions. Luckily, the other patrons seemed to relax a little when they saw Daphne with him. She was familiar, and therefore safe to them.

The two of them sat in a corner booth, near the back of the room. Achak let his eyes wander, taking in the wooden floorboards and rustic décor. It was cozy and warm here, an atmosphere that should have brought him peace, but instead it made him feel on edge, like he did not belong. And in truth, he didn’t. He was a predator, and here he was surrounded by prey. The scent of humans was just as tempting as the scent of deer, albeit masked by perfumes and other fragrances. At least his mask filtered out some of the smells. Still, he held his breath as the waiter came and took their drink orders, not willing to take a chance. He let it out slowly as the man left. The rabbit he had last night was long gone, and hunger was beginning to gnaw at his insides once again.

Achak tapped his talons on the wooden table as a distraction, not bothering to hide them now that Daphne knew his true nature. He perused the menu, trying to remember what little he knew of the human alphabet. Most of the words slipped from his grasp, and he looked up at Daphne. “What, uh, what do you recommend?” He asked quietly, if a bit stiffly. Whatever she answered, he would order, and it would save him the trouble of trying to guess at what was on the menu.

He was struck with how odd this all was. A wendigo and a dryad, who not only made a pact with one another, but also decided to go to a restaurant together. It would certainly be a tale to tell for future generations.

 

[Sele]

Now, Daphne continued to feel trepidation about this encounter. She knew who visited her shop that day, and who now accompanied her into the breakfast cafe. Achak, a shadow from the deep woods. A wendigo. One she'd made a bargain with no less. Her tree had felt threatened, so she had made her play to protect it.

She would make the place around her tree desirable to the type of game the wendigo liked to hunt, and he in turn would help protect the dryad's sacred tree. That didn't make breakfast somehow comforting right now, though. Discomfort or not, though, the socially polished blonde carried herself as casually pleased and polite. With the occasional side glance that lingered.

Daphne's practice with country manners did make her acutely aware of a few glances fixed to Achak in unbecoming ways. She would punish them by seeming cheerier and more enthralled with the dark-clothed stranger following with her.

“Now doesn't this look downright cozy?” Daphne glowed about the corner booth they'd claimed before sliding on in. Her game to shun anyone who thought to stare would come in waves. Sweet enough to make a diabetic keel over if need be. In an odd way, she felt defensive toward the wendigo in this setting. They were creatures of myth together, disguised among humans who were not their own. Really, Daphne and Achak were more alike than either were similar to any human, here or elsewhere.

She caught the discomfort stark as day about the disguised wendigo. She could help smooth the appearance of that over, too (though inwardly he might feel more uncomfortable; that would just be collateral, sorry Achak).

“Love, the steak and eggs here are divine, let me tell you, so are the ham and eggs!” poured saccharine praise, the likes of which someone who was uncomfortable typically couldn't achieve. The point was to show anyone staring that the two in the booth were completely normal and worthy of their own normal space. Daphne was familiar with the menu and her face was loosely known for her garden shop appearances.

She'd wrapped her palm over Achak's knuckles where he was tapping on the table when the waiter approached, in part to hide any possible glimpses of unnatural digits, and to show, firstly, she wasn't available, and two, they might be a couple. This simple, unspoken gesture should shoo any lingering to awkwardly flirt with Daphne, and that the dark stranger was accepted. She implied acceptance, enough so that anyone there who dared look would assume a romantic relationship, so buzz on off with nosiness unless you want to see sugary displays of affection – which people usually didn't.

Daphne was so sure of the acceptance and normalcy about Achak – and subsequently their implied relationship – that socially, who could disagree? Eyes peeled away from the wendigo, until he and Daphne blended into the background like any other guests.

“Darlin', would you be so kind as to bring us a steak and eggs, and ham and eggs. One scrambled, one over easy. We'll share so it doesn't matter which has what! You're a doll!” The dryad poured honey throughout the quick order. “Oh, and coffee, thanks, bless!”

She was too practiced at all of the flourish of niceties that people favored around here. She'd seen Achak suck in a breath seemed to be holding it when the waiter had come, so she took over the entire order. Ah yes... everyone here probably seemed delectable in some way. She only felt vaguely safe from being devoured herself thanks to the bargain. If he killed her, he'd lose the easy, steady stream of prey over time versus the quick, singular meal she might succumb to becoming (she'd fight if it ever came to that, though).

With the waiter gone and eyes generally leaving them alone at large, Daphne slid her blue glance back toward the masked wendigo. She kept her hand over his, drawing small circles with her thumb in an act of affection – just in case anyone else chanced a look.

She studied him and the hints of human glamour he donned. Still, signs of what he was showed through – like with his claws, and who knew with that mask. He'd have to take it off to eat, wouldn't he? Daphne glanced toward the cafe floor at large briefly.

“Honey babe, will you scooch on into the booth this way? There's a bit of a sticky spot on the table here for me I'd like to avoid.” Her real reason: Position him in a way where his back was a little more toward everyone else, as much as possible. This put her a little closer to him and that made her uneasy despite the act she put on. Still, safer than for the humans to see more than they needed.

“Aren't you just excited for our camping trip tonight? I'm so glad you know the woods so well, I'd be just a little scared without you!” And REALLY scared with, should their bargain somehow fall through.

She didn't know what all to say, but since they were both in town together, they needed to play a part. “Don't you worry your handsome buns off either, I won't chicken out,” Daphne sweetly teased. It was the sort of flirt that people already together enjoyed: more for the human appearances. If he was here to make sure she hadn't cut and vanished, well, she gave a veiled assurance.

 

[Koraki]

He was ashamed to admit that Daphne’s tactic took him by surprise. Objectively speaking, deception was an excellent way to throw off suspicion. But that did not mean Achak didn’t stiffen when Daphne reached across the table and put her hand on his. He managed to play it off, at least he hoped.

He was glad Daphne ordered for them both. Steak sounded…really, really good actually. Thinking about it kept his mind off of his discomfort, which was also a good thing, considering how thick Daphne seemed to be laying on the charm. But humans loved bubbly, cheerful spirits. They loved nonthreatening, helpful faces.

A memory surfaced of a female wendigo using the same tactics. She played the role of a humble innkeeper, welcoming lost souls with warmth and kindness. More often than not, her guests trusted her implicitly. She never did go too long without a meal.

Obviously, this was a vastly different situation. Achak was almost sure Daphne did not seek to feast upon anyone here. Did dryads even eat meat? He filed the question away to think on later.

He blinked when she addressed him with a question. “Uh, yes. The camping trip. Tonight. I am…excited…about the camping trip.” He said lowly, after a heartbeat’s hesitation. Then he blinked again, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “…handsome buns?” he whispered, repeating the off phrase. In context, he gathered it was a compliment, but beyond that he was puzzled. He didn’t have any bread…what was she referring to?

Achak didn’t get the chance to ask, because at that moment the waiter returned with two steaming mugs of coffee. He gave a curt nod of thanks, wrapping his hands around his cup and pulling it toward him. He stared down at it for a moment. Well, there was no more hiding from it was there? At least it was just Daphne that would see because he sat with his back to the rest of the café.

When the waiter was out of sight, Achak reached up and hooked a talon over the edge of his mask. He brought it down under his chin, revealing his ‘abnormality’: There was a large scar on the right side of his face, like something had ripped from the corner of his mouth to his ear. It caused the side of his mouth to pucker and pull a little, revealing his sharp fangs in a permanent snarl. He took a sip of the coffee, looking pointedly downwards so as not to see Daphne’s reaction.