A place she called home, was no longer that.
Rain had drenched the foliage and vegetation, tossing the scents of dew and fresh pine into the air. The sharp scent of the pine caused her nose to crinkle as she sat, perched in one of the tree branches. With quiver and bow slung across her body, she glanced idly upwards to the large bird that was seated above her on another branch. Turning her eyes back downwards, she listened and waited.
The forest was soon alive again, the various creatures stepping and trotting from their dens and homes to see what the rain had brought them. The call and response of birds and chipmunks began to sound as she began her slow descent to the grassy floor. Dusting herself off, she unhooked her bow and began moving, her avian companion following above her. She was hoping at least to track and find where the family of deer she had spotted on her evening ride yesterday, lived.
At least that, she mused to herself and continued to move down the path. Her boots were silent, calculating each step as she moved through the forest that she considered to be more of a home than the sprawling castle of her family's estate. Home should not be made of mortar, concrete, and stone. It was not the heavily perfumed and wooden rooms behind the stone, but rather the figures that sat and lounged within the chairs. The figures garbed in deep green, black, and silvers. Home was not a place, nor here in the forest. It was with her beloved family members. Even if they often drove her to wanting to shoot them or simply making her want to roll her eyes, she loved them nonetheless.
As her mind settled briefly on her family members as a whole, she paused in her steps. A smile passed over her features as she recalled a particular anecdote her cousin had been telling them at the dinner a few evenings ago when the first sound came. It was so unlike her to become so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had not heard the songs of the forest go silent around her. And then the creaking had come; like a squeaky floorboard in an old house.
She couldn't quite place it, but as she drew back to gather an arrow from within her quiver she was surprised to see the buck she had spotted the other evening emerge. Straightening herself, she lowered her gloved hand to her side while the other gripped tightly to the base of her bow. A frown found home upon her features as she stared the buck down.
The animal was just standing there, ears raised upwards and twitching occasionally as they both stood there. Listening. Waiting. And then slowly, the animal turned to stare at the Huntress. Its eyes slowly dilated, and what appeared to be a look of fear sliding into them.
Go. The eyes seemed to say. GO. It urged her. As the sound of creaking wood became louder, followed by a foul stench. A stench she had smelled only twice in her life, three times now within the wilderness.
The first time had been when she had just begun her training as a Huntverk. Her tutor and teacher, a Calmeberg man only known as Ergrauen due to his gray, deep-set eyes, had dragged her out into the wilderness right after a rainshower such as this one. It had poured down hard, overflowing the streams and creeks, making it near impossible for them to ride along the hunting trails. They left their horses behind and stepped into the wilderness. At that point, she had near perfected her silent feet. As she had followed her teacher through the bushes, ducking underneath waterlogged branches, head filled with thoughts of the dreams of her sleep the prior night, it was the stench that drew her out of these daydreams.
They had come to a small cave. A rotting corpse of some medium-sized creature lay a few meters from the mouth of the cave where they stood. The stench of wet fur and death pungent within the area of the cave as the only opening was the mouth where they were.
Her nose crinkled and her light breakfast of dried meat, a bit of fruit and some bread was beginning to rise up from the depths of her stomach. Clearing her throat to prevent this, she looked to Ergrauen, a question upon her lips that was soon swallowed down just like the near bile of her breakfast.
"Death has a particular scent, Wenig Edel," His gruff voice seemed almost soft as he stared towards the corpse before looking towards the young huntress, "See to it that you do not forget it."
And she hadn't. Not even when the second time it occurred, much similar to the situation she found herself within now.
Her feet were stumbling over wet and leaf-covered mud, now. Her feet were slipping over stone, then. The creature was scrambling down from the tree, it's blackened and armored body glistening with raindrops and shining in the afternoon sun, now. Blackened body slinking and crawling across the stonework, then. It launched itself towards her, the scent of death upon it's disgusting, lipless mouth, now. Stones and bits of brick falling as it dragged itself down the stonework of the tower and onto the wall where she was positioned, then. It was coming at her… She couldn't run away this time.
Moonlight was coming in from the far window of her room as she awoke; safe within her own bed. Within Typhonburg, her avain asleep on her perch high above her bed. She was safe, she softly reasoned as she tossed the thin summer sheets off of her bed and padded out of her bed alcove and up the stairs that led to the top of her tower proper.
She had once made a joke to her beau that she had always imagined herself to be some sort of princess locked away in her high tower. It was always a joke, as it would take much more than just a physical tower to keep her from what she wanted. But now, as she wrapped her robe around her pajama covered form, she stared out over the somewhat lit castle of her home, upon the top of her high tower; she felt safe. A deep breath escaped her only for it to become caught in a shaking sort of way. Clearing her throat, she tried again, only for just the same to happen again.
In an attempt to wave away the scenes of the dream, no, a nightmare from her consciousness, she focused on the small blips of lanterns from down below. She did not hear the soft, slipper cushioned steps behind her, not until the owner spoke.
"Josie?" The ever tired, but concerned tone of Klaus pulled her from her staring. He stood there, just at the top of the stairs with a lit candle in his grasp. His tired eyes, so similar to her own, gazing confused and a tad concerned at her. He was still dressed in his day clothes if a bit looser.
It was not uncommon for them to find each other like this. One having gone to sleep many hours ago and the other remaining awake to finish something or another. This, though, was different. She couldn't quite explain why or how it was different, but it felt different. And she didn't know if she liked that or not.
Closing her fingers into tight fists, she looked down at her own slippered feet and at the hem of her robe swishing gently in the summer breeze.
"Josie, is something wrong? I had come up to bed when I heard… Movement. Is everything alright?" He asked again, settling the candle and its holder onto one of her nearby work tables. The man stepped closer, raising a hand almost hesitant before he let it drop. Observing her, he would frown further.
She was stiff as if she had been drenched in cold water and shoved out into a snowstorm. Chilled to the very bone and the scent of death lingering about her nose. It was not until once more her brother pulled her from her thoughts. A hand upon her shoulder and his voice calling to her again. Her eyes shifted and met his, and that was when something within her broke.
Tears began to dribble down her cheeks and a sob escaped her lips as she stepped forth. Wrapping her arms tightly around her younger sibling's larger form, she pressed her face into the folded collar of his overcoat. Her fingers dug deeply into the fabric, grasping, twisting, and holding onto for dear life as she sobbed.
Klaus, meanwhile, was confused and perhaps a bit shocked at the sudden flow of shown emotion by his often cold and silent elder sister. He, putting his own emotions aside, for the time being, wrapped his arms around her and him tightly. It was strange as their roles were often reversed as he was often seeking her out for assistance with matters. But now as they stood, he holding her as she continued to let out everything via her tears, and she, crying as if someone she loved dearly had been slain. He knew this not to be the case, but he did not press. Not yet, it wasn't right.
Slowly, the tears eased and her cries subsided. Soon they found themselves seated on one of the benches and Josephine was pressing a handkerchief between her palms. She was quiet as she stared down at the stonework of the tower floor. Her eyes staring a near hole into the grey stone. And then she spoke, soft and barely above a whisper, she told him. Told him that she had been plagued by the same or similar nightmares since the siege of Typhonburg. Of her brush with death at the hands of the Void created Clickers. Of how she had finally met her match when it came to creatures she could not fell. And it scared her. It scared her to her very core.
The younger, male Typhonus was quiet throughout his sister's explanation and admittance to her fear. And he found himself in awe of her and felt a burning want within his heart to protect her, even if he was the younger of the two. He curled his arms tighter around her before releasing her and holding her at arm's length. Not a word came from Klaus as the pair of them looked to each other; a silent conversation occurred before Josephine nodded again and embraced him.
Klaus let out a sigh, squeezing his elder sister gently. He couldn't exactly fight off the imaginary monsters that plagued his sister's sleeping self. But at least he could consul her and ensure that she was reminded that it was just a dream and that the Clickers were gone. And that she was safe.
Safe, high in her tower.
