Role

Chapter 2

The lifeless body of the Giant Lawman lies in an enormous heap next to his
recently trusted swords and guards, colorless to Vreksoek except for a few
keenly placed purple bruises around the arms and neck. The felar stares in
wonder, as the trio of lawmen's red lifeblood flows in unbridled ecstasy,
staining the cobblestone street in just as many perfect tiny rivers of
crimson- ending up as one in the gutter, mixing in with the otherwise
colorless refuse of the city day's bustle and waste...

(from around the corner of a nearby building ... "Criminal! Men, grab that
murderer!"...)

...Vreksoek continues to stare in wonder at the scene in front of him, unwary
of the nearing guards and the shrieks of passersby. With little hesitance, he
pulls a matted buckskin dress from within his few belongings, and wipes a bit
of the newly taken blood off of his right claw onto it. To his surprise, the
color remains, perhaps a even bit brighter and redder than before. The felar
pauses.

(Moments pass. Sweet yet somehow painful moments.)

A slightly familiar smell finds it's way to the nostrils of the felar, sweet
and beckoning. For a brief moment, everything goes black. Then. All at once,
Vreksoek spins around to take view of the wide road behind him, dark and
empty except for a bit of light (green?) making its way out from beyond the
exit of the city gates... Tightly clutching the buckskin in his right paw,
Vreksoek dashes and leaps back into the comfort of the fields beyond the
walls... barely wincing as a bit of golden light (ever so slight) reflects
off his pupils and he takes in the smell of familiar wheat and grass and
leaves...