A shudder tore through her and she stepped aimlessly to the side, arms rising into the air some, loose, her eyes flailing from left to right for a moment and then she found something, a hand clinging to a chair back, and she sunk down, a wary eye on the blade behind her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shoulders quaking with the onset of few tears that glittered upon her cheeks; death had come to her, and the day had been red::
There was a snap of her neck upwards, wide eyes upon Mischief; like a child caught sneaking out. She rubbed at those tears with the back of her hand, and shook her head at him. Her voice was gone, her spirit ruined for how she felt. She curled her legs beneath her on the chair and stared down at her knees, stripes of dried blood across her calf::

Mischief: -..Eyes widened slightly and he followed her to that chair. He'd crouch down beside her. He'd reach up to brush the crimson locks from her face and slide a thumb across her cheeks to wipe away the tears and their trails. The jackal's cranium would tilt in concern.- Leri?
Lerida: ::The skin beneath his touch was awfully cool, like the night had taken residence in her own blood, crept beneath her very pores, filled her with its blue-black grief, for all it hid. She now understood:: "...I killed...I found....", she trembled, her chin shaking:: "Viki..", her brows knitted tightly together as she lifted a hand to take his, her fingers cooler than that of her face, like all they were were bones, little shivering bones. Her white dress, so sweet, soured by the mess of vitae
Lerida: drying along her legs:: "Viki ...I found her"
Lerida: ::her features softened and she leant across to him, her hand holding his brought to her chest, so that he might feel the thrum of her sorrowful heart::
Mischief: -Well, his face certainly contorted in confusion at her attempt to speak. Serpentine eyes lowered to watch his hand be brought to her chest, feeling the heavy thumping beneath. Slowly his gaze shifted to her legs, taking note of the blood before returning to her face. He lowered to his knees, having been squatting. Ears laid back.... He had no idea who Viki was, but he was sure she'd explain..- Le' me ge' yeh some tea, mm? An' I'll fetch a wash cloth.. yeh cin clean yerself up a bi'..
Lerida: ::Her icy fingers clung to him for an instant as she nodded, and took another breath, if shaky, to regain some composure. She uncurled one leg, toes moving across the floorboards, and her head fell to the side, eyes closing; she simply let the moment be. She was here, was breathing, very much alive. Every sense was explicitly awake, and the adrenalin and chaos of the last few hours was only being caught up to now. She mouthed a thank you to Stitch, eyes filled with an awful gratefulness::

Lerida: ::It was late, so late. But the dawn of something sinister. Something starved of any light. She closed her eyes again and focused on breathing; right now, it was all she had left, and all she could manage to do. The wind had been knocked from her::
Mischief: -He'd gently pull his hand away from her grasp and her chest and give a pat to her thigh before he stood, placing his beer on the table. Turning, he returned to the bar, then disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes. He'd reenter the room after the water was properly boiled with a mug of it, the tea evident due to the string hanging out of it. A steaming wash cloth was in the other hand. The saucer was set down onto the table top and he knelt again, tending to the dried blood on her
Mischief: legs with the warm rag.-
Lerida: ::Her other leg was unbent, and she took to silently watching him, teeth bitten down on her bottom lip. Her eyes were wide and honed, keenly watching every movement he made. It perhaps was disquietening, but she was wide awake, vitality channeling her behaviour. It was going to be a long night, wasn't it:: "..Thanks..So much", she finally said, her usually soft voice unbearably gentle now; bare and mirroring the silent horror in her eyes, her petal tongue had lost its huskiness and now the words were shaped with her breath. The very essence of life::
Lerida: "I didn't mean to kill him, but he came out of nowhere", she explained, a hand gripping the table to her side as she widened her legs before him a bit, to sit side onto the table, resting her elbow there instead. While frail and shocked, there was the most peculiar sensation that came, surprising her in this condition. This was incredibly intimate, tender, and her eyes beheld him with such attraction, but so instilled in her the memory of few hours ago she sat silent, arching her knees with an
Lerida: elegant movement, so he could remove the streaks of crimson from her skin, her movements following the direction of the damp towel; a delightful sensation as warm as it was against the cold air that had chilled her::

Kacilla Lynne: ::wanders down the stairs from her rented room, jeans and a sweater, bare feet and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, with her hair still tangled from sleep and her dark brown eyes looking darker with black circles beneath, she heads for the bar::
Mischief: -Those eyes were fixed on the delicate skin of her leg as he wiped away the browning crimson. The towel would be flipped over, folded, refolded as white became red. When her voice met his ears, he lifted his gaze but never halted in his motions. - ..I' will be all righ', love, shh.. -A gentle cooing once she quieted, and he moved the cloth down around her ankles, taking her foot in his palm.-
Lerida: ::Her eyes closed and she sat still; breathing and feeling. She supposed to herself it was something of a cleansing, after a storm. Her hands folded against her stomach, empty and dull, and she let out a whistling sigh, nodding to his gentle urging her. She knew it would be alright, she just didn't know for whom exactly::
Lerida: ::her foot, when lifted, was arched, tension riding her muscles again. Her ankle clicked as it rolled, and she opened her eyes at the vulnerable feeling she got when so weak. Her eyes found his outline again, and she stared at his hands and the bloodied towel, swallowing audibly::
Kacilla Lynne: ::she stops as she takes in the scene by the counter, then walks forward more slowly, her voice soft, but harsh with the soot and smoke she'd been breathing all day:: Lerida? What's wrong? ::her eyes also fixing on the bloodied towel before she looks between the two:: Stitch?
Lerida: ::Empty eyes found Kacilla in their vision, but her voice was dead, she hadn't the energy for words::
Mischief: ..Yeh? -Perhaps he'd met this woman before, but.. the memory escaped him for the time being. They might catch up at a later date.. But for now, his ears laid back and he peered over his shoulder at the source of the voice before turning back. He'd finished up cleaning the blood and set the towel aside.. then lifted the tea bag from the hot water and placed it on the saucer.-
Lerida: ::Shrinking away, holding the table tightly, and her other hand going for the saucer, she took in a breath, watching both Stitch and Kacilla from the corner of her eye; like a wounded animal::
Kacilla Lynne: ::she pauses at the lack of recognition, then shrugs her blanket off, offering it to Lerida with slow and soothing motions - she knew that wounded animal tenseness from the inside:: What happened to her? Do you know? ...Is there something I can do to help?
Lerida: ::Her damp legs folded away, the hem of her dress riding up her thigh, but she was careless for her appearance, for how droopy she was. The strap of her dress hung off a shoulder, her hair redder in parts with the splatter of blood there too. She hunched forward and sipped at the tea, warm enough to fill her with some comfort::
Lerida: ::she lifted a hand to pull the blanket across herself, a weak smile to Kacilla as she turned to face her::
Lerida: "..I need a room here", she said straightly, some of the oomph returning to her if for the closeness of people, people she instinctually trusted, for whatever sense advised her so::
Mischief: -Oh, wait.. Eyes squinted momentarily..there was an extremely vague recognition. Face, and even name..but where he'd met her or what they spoke of.. well. Needless to say that was unknown. He rested clawed hands on her knee, fingers lacing together.- No' exac'ly..Bu' I din' wanna pry fer th' story.. I fink t'morra she'll be in be'er shape tae explain. Wha' yeh cin do tae 'elp.. Well.. Iunno. -He shrugged, looking back to Leri.-
Corlanthis Wystansayr: ::Cor was whistling his customary cheerful whistle as he ascended the porch steps and pushed his way into the Inn. One hand was stuffed deep into a pocket and the other fell to his side where it swung carelessly after being used to force the door open. Once within, however, the whistle died on his lips as he spotted the scene barwards. He started that way, moving behind the fixture to being his glass of tea, eyes on the group, alight with curiosity.::
Kacilla Lynne: ::she returns the weak smile with a little one of her own as she drapes the blanket up and around Lerida's shoulders, and she tilts her head to the side thoughtfully before she nods:: There were rooms left when I got mine... but if there aren't any now, I have a room. I don't know how much I'll be sleeping tonight, so you're welcome to it.

Lerida: ::Eyes downcast she nodded; ruthless was grief across her face, soaking in her smile. But she smiled nonetheless, forcing herself, it was a wilted, curled dried look:: "Thank you Kacilla...", her hand found Stitch's own, nails digging into his knuckles with her grip. She sipped at her tea, as Kacilla pulled the blanket around her. She felt like weeping, she felt a thousand things::
Kacilla Lynne: ::she nods again, few steps down the counter to manage a smile at Cor:: Cor... could you check if there are any rooms left?
Lerida: ::An abrupt lift of her chin, as she spotted Corlanthis. A hesistant pursuance of him with her gaze, and she placed the cup down, half crashing it into the saucer. And there she sat, staring at the cup::
Mischief: -He let one of his hands fall to rest atop his thigh and let the other be taken by her own. There wasn't so much as a twitch as her nails sunk into his knuckles, though his thumb did lift to slide against her flesh, bent at such an angle that the tip of that talon didn't drag against her skin. Slits of black studied the interaction, though he remained silent as his other hand rested on the back of her thigh. A blink..and he was back to reality with the colliding of glass-

Lerida: "Stitch...", and her eyes closed too, and whatever she was to say was gone, or maybe that had been it, a little prayer from her tired mouth. She squeezed his hand and opened her eyes again, feeling very aware, and very naked, physically and mentally, before him:: "Stitch..." and she rolled onto her back, a knee bending upwards, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment:: "I am not scared of the others", she held her breath, her eyes dead straight on the ceiling, but for those intermittent blinkings of her thick lashes:: "I'm scared of myself. Now I know what I can do....", her dreams would be of flashes, of blood, of lightning, of the desert, of gore. She placed a hand on her knee, nails moving across the hem of her skirt, that fidgeting, nervous display:: "Blow out the light", she asked in a whisper::

Mischief: -He listened to her silently, just letting her speak. He offered no response but a light squeeze to counter hers while his eyes idly searched the walls and ceiling. Upon her request, however, he did sit up and blow out the candle there before laying down beside her. He brought her hand up to rest around the area where his neck met his jaw and he placed a gentle kiss on her forearm.

Lerida: ::Turning over, hair fell in tendrils across her face. She smiled at his kiss and let her face sink into the pillow, bending a leg so her knee pressed against his leg:: "I like you, Stitch", in the blue-black dark she looked for the silhouette of his ears, jaw, the animalistic grin that appeared now and again. She slid her hand from his neck to lose her fingers in the fur of his chest::

Mischief: -The palm of his hand found her knee and pulled it up over his leg, so they were intertwined. It'd slide up her side, then, to the small of her back and pull her closer. Eyes would fall shut at that enchanting voice of hers and he rested his snout against the top of her skull.- Aye, I'd 'ope so. Yeh aren' too bad yehrself, love...-No, he was never one to be straightforward when it came to a subject so revealing as feelings. If he noticed he did it, he might hope she didn't take offense to

Mischief: it- ..Ge' some sleep, love, yeh need i'.

Lerida nodded and hesitantly wrapped her arm around his back; she closed her eyes for a while, and found that she was not asleep, and was instead, now, staring at the wall over Stitch's shoulder. She went about unwrapping herself from his embrace, and sat up, spending some time staring at him, and the rest watching the window, watching the sky, the ceiling, each a flash-shot of a moment, fragmented, and then she was at the door, walking down the landing, to book the room for a couple weeks, as a refuge, and then return to rest by the Jackal, the irony of his nickname not lost on her. It was to be a long month ahead of her, but she wasn't so frightened any more, as she was prepared. She'd had the presence of mind to react as well as she had to her roustabout attacker. There was more to this showgirl than met the eyes.