Intresting much ? {Wolf}

[ωΘĿƒ]

Le Cyll glred at the girl, blood dripping from the gash in his hand.

She took one of his knives... He did not like it when people touched his perfectly sterilized knives...

Listening to the silence inside him slowly start to roar, he realized that for the first time in what must have been ten years he was angry.

Real, actual emotion. not the fake stuff he fabricated for the public, not the impulses that plagued him so that he could not be happy with the numbness of callous lethargy. This was real, actual emotion, and he was not prepared for it.

There was but a blur of color, the sound of voices. He wasn't paying attention, so he really didn't care to know the details. What he did remember though, was being dragged off the court by a huge black dragon - the coach, he could only assume - the girl's hair in one hand and her blood trickling down the other.

A few more of the students came to help, because apparently he did not want to be dragged off the court right then. He had cut himself free of the dragon's grasp using the serrated end of his double bladed hunting knife, and had been in the process of tearing its scales off one by one to get his knife into something soft when the other students reached him and he was overwhelmed.

Instantly, he realized that he'd been slipping. He had not been the quiet unassuming character that he needed to be.

Well... that wasn't obvious, now was it?

He forced his muscles to relax, the knife in his hands taken by the swarm of students. He didn't really care. What he did care about was the girl.

She still had one of her knives clutched in her filthy, germ infested hand.

There was something of a commotion among the students and teacher about what to do, and vaguely, he caught the gist of it.

He had a feeling class was going to be dismissed now...
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[rei]

She sighed in either disappointment
or relief as he was dragged away
from her. She really didn't know which
it was. She knew she had lost, but
she had drawn blood, and that was
close enough to victory for her.

The ring was an interesting sight.

Splatters of blood, cloth and what
was left of her hair was strewn
about the ring, and she couldn't
help but think it was beautiful.
She took out the knife she had
grabbed from him and didn't
bother looking at it. She would
remember it for the rest of her
life as it was.

She figured she'd clean it for him.

Even if he decided it wasn't clean
enough, she thought it would be
a bit more respectful than handing him
a bloody knife... She went in her bag
and got out her weapon cleaning kit.
She quickly cleaned it and soon it looked
just like when she had stolen it. She put it
on a stack of bandages he could use
for his own injuries before she started
tending to her own.

She cleaned them with some rubbing
alcohol, hissing slightly at the pain,
then wrapped them up in bandages.
One by one, she efficiently got the
bleeding to stop.

She'd still have to go to the infirmary
though..

She felt her hair to see what was left
from her hack job. It was very short,
falling to her jawline at the longest.
Her bangs were still long though....
She grabbed the scissors she used
to cut her bandages and easily sliced
them to look decent and then she finished
the back. It was all jawline length.

She liked it better this way

[ωΘĿƒ]

Le Cyll was set down on the bench and had to sit there until the girl left the room. Then, he was told he'd have to speak to the principal.

Oh goody, he was in trouble. He felt like one of those little children that put a tack on teacher's chair and had to get punished. Well, what teacher didn't know was Le Cyll took notes. He'd met Crane once before, and he knew the man to be a passive thing. He would not be a problem to deal with.

Putting it out of his mind, he saw a pile of bandages and his knife sitting out for him to use. The girl, possibly? Was this her way of apologizing? Well how sweet, considering he'd nearly killed her, and would have probably skinned her just for the sake of knowing if phoenixes skinned well. Considering the feathers, he doubted that. Moving on.

He picked up the knife, seeing that it had been cleaned. It wasn't nearly enough to just wipe it off though. Le Cyll had a procedure. An extremely special procedure in which he made absolutely sure that all the filthy little germs were gone from it.

He could barely pick the knife up now as he unraveled the pile of bandages, holding them up to smell the cloth. There. He could smell her on them, and he would remember that scent...

Canines naturally had good scent memory. It was an invaluable aspect in tracking prey and understanding what other canines in the pack wanted. It might have been slightly odd to see the Kludde sniff the thin strips of cloth, but to him it was merely second nature.

He set the stolen knife down, wrapping it in the strips of cloth and not using any on his wounds. He would do something for it later. It wasn't lethal, though he saw that it might get infected in his true form, what with him walking on the dirty ground and such.

When Le Cyll was allowed to leave, he stumbled out, tired, his head throbbing. Damn emotions. Every time he had one, it left him with a headache for days... Now he'd have to deal with it for a while, and the wound he'd recieved.

He would not go to the doctor, however. He was a doctor himself. He obviously knew how to dress and treat a wound.

Wandering away, he decided he'd stop at the library before going back to his dorm. He needed someplace quiet to settle his mind, and calm him before he felt another of those terrible little emotion things.
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