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cloakandclaw) wrote2010-02-24 09:06 pm
cloakandclaw) wrote2010-02-24 09:06 pm
[Milliways] In the forest behind the bar
There are unmistakeable signs of a disturbance in the forest and that... is something he doesn't like. Certainly things happen, but...
Right here, there was a struggle. Areas of no snow along with many footprints prove that; if he looks carefully he sees blood. Not in quantity -- only splattered around -- but if a person knows what to look for, that... is unmistakable evidence. But how the blood got here is something of a mystery. If someone's stabbed the blood can spray, but there would be far more than is evident. That leads to questioning whether or not this is in fact blood but... well, he knows it is.
Whose? Why? And when did it happen?
After making absolutely certain that nobody else is around, he removes his glove and scoops up a bit of the blood-spattered snow. His hand by now is almost as pale as the snow in it, but that's not what interests him. What he finds fascinating is the contrast of the blood against what should be pristine snowy whiteness. Sometimes, people have no concept of the value of life. When they lose it... well, then it's a different story. Or perhaps his perspective is unique or was before he got here; not everyone in his world is aware of their own death after it happens. No, memories are left to the survivors.
The next question, of course, is whether this is related to the goings-on the other day. He may never know; the evidence here is tainted and was before he arrived. Without a victim there can't be a crime and so... he lets the bloodied snow melt against his hand before putting the glove back on and going on his way. He'll keep the memories of this scene vivid in his mind for as long as necessary.
Just in case anybody asks.
Right here, there was a struggle. Areas of no snow along with many footprints prove that; if he looks carefully he sees blood. Not in quantity -- only splattered around -- but if a person knows what to look for, that... is unmistakable evidence. But how the blood got here is something of a mystery. If someone's stabbed the blood can spray, but there would be far more than is evident. That leads to questioning whether or not this is in fact blood but... well, he knows it is.
Whose? Why? And when did it happen?
After making absolutely certain that nobody else is around, he removes his glove and scoops up a bit of the blood-spattered snow. His hand by now is almost as pale as the snow in it, but that's not what interests him. What he finds fascinating is the contrast of the blood against what should be pristine snowy whiteness. Sometimes, people have no concept of the value of life. When they lose it... well, then it's a different story. Or perhaps his perspective is unique or was before he got here; not everyone in his world is aware of their own death after it happens. No, memories are left to the survivors.
The next question, of course, is whether this is related to the goings-on the other day. He may never know; the evidence here is tainted and was before he arrived. Without a victim there can't be a crime and so... he lets the bloodied snow melt against his hand before putting the glove back on and going on his way. He'll keep the memories of this scene vivid in his mind for as long as necessary.
Just in case anybody asks.