Time always manages to heal old wounds

[Aeri`]

Night sounds. It had a nice ring to it if you were a cricket, demon, wolf, vampire or shadow monsters. The night seemed to scare many of late, including the infamous elf. She would slowly walk along the beaten path, darting violet hues from beneth the hood of her cloak. Careful steps were made to reach the pending view of the tavern. Something was in the air. She could sense it, yet not place such. A small hand gripped upon the railing as she climbed upon the stairs.

It might have been the heavy stench of alcohol on the damp air. Biske sulked in the shadows of the porch, long legs stretched with heels placed on the railing; a large, clawed hand encircled the neck of a whiskey bottle, bloodshot eyes staring at Aeri from the shadows. Despite from the smell of the werewolf, he probably wouldn't be very noticeable. He had taken refuge from the drizzle, and therefore was still a bit damp; his tail, tucked up between his legs, twitched like a cat's.

Keen elven senses would note the werewolf however. Violet hues swiftly darted upon his semi hidden form. It seemed both had some things to sort out. The elf was not the same as he knew her before. She hesitated a moment before slow steps were made to approach the said wolf. Her lips pressed tightly together as if in thought on what to say to him. A slow nod given at first. " Good eve. " It was not what she had wished to say to the wolf. He had been part of her recent nightmares. The past did tend to catch up with one. Instead she took a more friendly approach in hopes to smooth over any ill feelings. She would never forget the night he came to her with blood nearly covering his form and the stench of death upon his breath.

Biske was looking particularily nightmareish tonight. Though it could just have been that he might be very drunk. He shifts, heavy boots planted against the floorboards with a hollow thump, leaning forward to allow just a smidge oflight fall across his gaunt, scarred features. "... ye've got nerve comin'. Y'know." His lips pull back tight over his teeth in a particularily wolfish grin.

Oh how she knew such. Another slow nod given as she eased upon the bench near him. The hood of her cloak was pulled down, reveiling sterling locks that flowed past her shoulders. A faint smile given and small hands were tucked within her sleeves. "Aye, I know. I...I wish to make amends however. We both have not been ourselves? " It was true. The elf remembered alot that the group had been through, and yet something seemed missing. Her gaze shifted towards the tavern window for a moment to note all that were within then looked back to him. Her hand slipped out of the fabric and she held it to him. "Please...forgive me?"

Biske lifted his own hand, leaning away from Aeri. His emaciated body is held tense and rigid, the werewolf abruptly getting up to stalk away, the contents of the bottle in his hand sloshing around as he turns to scowl at her. "Some trick, eh? Wha'dye wan'?" he sneers, suddenly remembering the whiskey; he swings it upwards, drinking it almost as easily as water. The werewolf's had alot of practice. "Them guys af'er y'gain?"

Aeri` stood as well and sighed, shaking her head. That is over with." They were..taken care of?" A slight gleam seen within her violet hues. Revenge. It was bitter sweet, but she found comfort with it. She would not reveal more for now, but noted the one was secretly hidden within the cells of the Asylum now. Nothing or noone could help that one now. Again she glaced to him. " I merely wish to be...friends again. Like we used to be. " The sudden movement she had made caused her to wince. The wound healed but the pain still felt. The blade had found it's way deep within her shoulder blades. A scar she would never forget. She steadied herself by placing a hand upon the railing, waiting upon his answer.

Biske 's eyes narrow. "... y'think tha's ever goin' t'appen?" he snorts, half-mocking. Clawed fingers splay themselves across his chest. "Lookit me. Y'cain't. Y'star' screamin'. I don' know wha's wrong w'ye know, but y'drunk, or drugged, or y'bin knocked on t'ead. It ain' never goin' t'appen' again." It was spoken with a finality with his drunken, peasant drawl, followed by another pull with the bottle. "... y'tried afore. I 'preciate all y'did for me. But it ain' goin' t'work."

She expected such from him but was not about to give up that easily. A shake of her head made quickly. Again another wince made. The memory of the drows blade still felt. "Do I scream now? Do I run? I come to thee with the truth. I was not myself then. You above all should know thus. " A determined look given then. She had changed somewhat, perhaps for the better. No longer would she be afraid of the beast before her, or so she thought. "Give it time Biske. Let me prove that I have changed? "

Biske utters a short bark of laughter. "'Ow long should I wait, Aeri? 'Til th'next moon? Ain' far away, tha'. No." He hesitates. "I manage t'stay out'a trouble, now, an' tha's 'ow I'd like t'keep it."

A wince of pain seen upon her features. She did not expect him to believe her right off. A mere nod made. She would give him time to change his mind, if ever. She glanced down the lane towards the church and graveyard. A longing look made. There was only one place for the elf upon an eve like such, dispite the knawing feeling she had. Dhugal's gravesite. She would be found there often, talking low as if he could actually hear her. It seemed the only friend the poor elf had left, even if he could never answer her back. She moved without another word, slowly making her way down the path.

Biske finished off his whiskey, staring after Aeri. Women. Elves. Whichever. He barely spared those on the porch with another glance, hurling the empty bottle away from him furiously into the night, striding away even before it shattered.