026

--The Enclave--

Elric — or, rather Drakov — was a couple years younger than her, but he had a mature face that often made her forget that fact. His black hair was spiked up and sticking up wildly, and his almost black eyes were warm as he gave her a friendly hug.

“How did questing go?” she asked him as they pulled away.

“I got quite a bit done; I assume you’ll have some of the hunting quests I just finished, but more XP for us!” he told her. “Did you get credit for the things I killed while you were doing your thing?”

“Did I?” Guin asked, checking her experience bar. “I didn’t think I’d get any credit, but maybe I did?” She didn’t know where her experience bar had been before, but it certainly seemed like she might have gotten something for it. Drakov gave her a sheepishly perplexed look. “What?”

“N-Noona…,” he went, scratching the bit of dark scruff that shadowed his jaw. “You look a little… weird.”

“Weird?”

Drakov pointed at her face. “Your eyes… are a bit…. And your teeth… did you get cursed? Or something?”

Dread filled her as she felt around in her mouth with her tongue and opened her character window. Zooming in, she cursed under her breath. “Of course…,” she growled. “But… the NPCs didn’t notice?”

“You didn’t look like this when we talked before,” he told her.

“Is that so…” Furrowing her brow, Guin clicked through the windows, then checked her status. [Hungry for Livers]. “Oh, what the hell…”

———————-

[Debuff: Hunger (Gumiho Trait) — (2 Stacks)]

———————-

“What a stupid… Argh!” Aggravated, she waved the windows away rather violently. “I thought that was just going to be a debuff — and why two stacks?” Was it in game days that affected it? Guin growled.

Drakov shrunk back a bit. “N-Noona?”

Guin grabbed him by the collar of his leather jerkin and tugged him along toward the wood line. “Come on,” she grumbled. “I need to find a liver.”

“H-Haaaa?” Drakov went in shock and confusion as she dragged him into the woods.

Just off the main trail, sharpened sight caught movement.

“There,” she muttered, pointing, then pulling her spear out.

Tugging his arm back, he hissed, “What are you doing? Noona!”

Ignoring him, Guin went ahead.

It was the first time that she had hunted with her new traits, with her as a Tatterskin. Her nose twitched, and her ears fought against the hood the kept them. In her vision, the slightest movements informed her movements. Yellow guides tracking along the ground told her where she should place her feet, but she hardly noticed them as all her attention focused on the Moarbit, going about its life as forest cannon fodder for players.

Bother her eyes and guides showed her the way; where she could step without making noise, where she could go to get a clean shot around. It was alone. Vulnerable. It knew nothing of what was about to happen to it. Its back was turned. It knew nothing.

Gentle steps, quick along the ground. And then —

A few feet away, Guin raised her spear up and angled it. Just. Right…

With a speed she didn’t know she was capable of, she thrust the spear at a downward angle — right through the creature’s spine with a [Backstab]. Even with her reduced status, there was no way for it to withstand the critical hit.

“Nice hit!” Drakov exclaimed as he made his way through the bushes. “Wasn’t sure what you were going for there, but you were awesome! Like a jungle cat! Rawr!”

“Or a fox,” she mumbled, kneeling down next to her kill. Drawing out her dagger, she apologized to the creature before slicing it open. With her hand, she rummaged, pulling the organs out till she found what she was looking for.

Her stomach churned as she lifted it to her face.

The liver of the Moarbit in her hand, Guin contemplated the choices in her life she had made thus far.

How had it come to this?

It had been a kill of convenience. A single Moarbit, just off the main road. Without much thinking, Guin had rushed it. Killed it. The corpse, its inside now its outsides, stared at her through dead eyes.

She hadn’t bothered to skin it. She was only after one thing:

Normalcy.

And for normalcy, she needed the poor, pitiful creature’s liver. As it turned into bubbles and left it’s chest behind, Guin shook.

The deep red organ was still warm against the skin of her hand. Blood, dripping from her hands faded before it hit the ground as her face twitched in disgust.

But she couldn’t walk around the city — especially a place like the Hunters’ Guild — looking like a Gumiho. It simply wouldn’t do. Wrestling her conviction into line, she drew the thing to her mouth, and chomped down —

— then spit it out. The taste itself was bland and nondescript as it met her lips, but something about it made her want to vomit the moment the liver touched her tongue. Her whole mouth went numb, as if a dentist had given her a shot of Novocaine.

“W-What the —” She cursed and she spat and she washed out her mouth with water from one of the skins she kept in her bag. As feeling came back to her mouth, a taste that reminded her of the smell of pesticides in a garden shop was left behind, and she tried to rinse it out.

“N-Noona…” Drakov’s voice was filled with horror, and when she looked up, he was cringing back away from her, hugging his bow. “W-What are you doing?”

Guin stared back down at the liver. The Moarbit that it had come from had disappeared long before. Why had she had such a reaction to the Moarbit? When she had eaten the first liver, its as if she had been drawn to it. What was the difference?

Biting her lip, she opened the trait description.

————--

[Gumiho]

————--

What am I missing? She wondered. Unless…

“Oh, no… No…,” she moaned. “You can’t be serious…”

“What is it?” Drakov asked ducking his head.

“I think… I think it needs to be humanoid livers,” she told him, rubbing her face. “Shit.”

“W-What does?”

“This,” Guin waved a hand in front of her face. “I need to eat livers to keep this from showing. Which means… Gods… I hope Gobos count because otherwise I could be in big trouble…” The palor of Drakov’s face had turned a bit grey. “Yeah,” she grumbled. “Me too.”

“So…” Drakov looked away. “What do we do now?”

Guin pushed back her hood and drew out her spear. She saw Drakov’s jaw drop as he started muttering something in surprise, but she ignored him. Her ears twitched as they picked up on the sounds of the forest. Leaves rustling. Bees buzzing. Birds. Beasts. On the air she smelled them, and more. Her heightened senses served her better than her map did; easily locating dozens of prey all around them.

“For now,” she said, gripping the shaft of her spear. “We hunt.”