will come up w/ a cool title later // OxO, back after almost a year so lets get back to it

Nike looked in the direction that the male had pointed. She looked back at him with a grin on her lips. "Thank you so much, sir!" she exclaimed. She looked over at the horse with her head tilted thoughtfully. "I guess he just does not like me for some reason." She had a little huff of disappointment in her tone, but she could completely understand why Argus was wary of her.

She did not appear like a threat at all, she looked just like a little homeless girl. She heard a cawing noise and her head snapped to look over at a tree where about three crows were perched. As she inhaled, she realized she could smell that familiar scent. Thatcher? He was the crows. There were far less due to him being injured, but it was still a surprise. Though she was annoyed that he was so stubborn and refused to stay anywhere to let her go off on her own. She would not be surprised if the horse started getting more riled up because of the Reaper's presence, now. "Where do you live at?" she asked quickly, tearing her gaze away from the small flock of crows and over to the male on his horse.

Nike resisted to roll her eyes as she heard one of the crows caw. That was so annoying how stubborn Thatcher was, even when he was practically dying at the moment. Her eyes squinted at the horse, Argus, for a moment when she realized the horse noticed Thatcher. Of course the horse did, and she knew that it would happen, but she was still not happy about it. At least there was no way that horses were able to talk to people.

She looked up at Samuel with a smile on her face. "Hopefully he will! But it's nice to meet you Samuel!" she started before continuing. "My name is Nike- like the goddess." She said that with a proud tone in her voice. Nike was a Greek goddess- the goddess of victory to be specific. The goddess was known to be prideful and competitive in all that she did. That related to the girl very closely. Thatcher had given her that name when he found her a couple hundred years ago. She had been a pup at the time- around 7 years old in human years. She had been the runt of a hell hound litter, abandoned because of it. But Thatcher took her in, and now they were inseparable.

(no no i totally get it, i just finished midterm week so i’m feeling so burnt out)

Nike was essentially unable to take Samuel’s hand. She sure tried, but Argus would not allow her to get that close. She huffed softly, throwing a little narrowed eye look at the horse as she resisted the urge to growl as well. “I don’t think I’ll be able to ride him…” she sighed, tilting her head to the side- almost like a dog.

“I can just walk! I’ll follow you and Argus, I don’t mind!” she chirped. That would be better for her. She much preferred walking places- though doing so as a human was quite annoying. Things were so much quicker when you had four legs instead of two. She could also keep track of Thatcher much more easily that way.

(yeah, was not fun at all :,) )

Nike giggled when she was called a 'young lady'. She liked Samuel so far, he seemed to be one of the more friendly and less paranoid people she had met in the village so far. "I don't mind walking. I like it, actually!" she hummed with a smile on her lips.

She began to skip alongside the horse, though she kept her distance. She was not even close to as strong as she was when she was in her hound form, so a kick from the horse would surely do some damage to her human form. She told herself that she would not stay too long. In and out. She had no idea how long Thatcher would be able to stay in the form of the murder of crows- who were going from tree to tree, following them. The last thing that she wanted was to get held up and have Thatcher shift back in the middle of the town square.

A group of men hurried past, holding guns and other sorts of weapons. Her head tilted a little as her very sensitive hearing picked up on their conversation as they headed away, and she began to chew on the inside of her cheek in a nervous sort of manner. They were talking about the missing body. About Thatcher's missing body. They had finally realized, and now they really had to hurry.

(HEY i have no idea if u r still active but im becoming a bit more active now. I left bc my mental health was not doing well, and i lost the motivation to write. Writing is something i enjoy, so now that i am doing much better in my life, i'm going to get back to it! Happy holidays if u have celebrated btw and i hope ur doing well)

"Favorite foods…" Nike started, sounding thoughtful. "Probably anything with meat. I'm not that big of a fan of vegetables." Typical. Being a hellhound, of course she would be a carnivore. Could she eat vegetables or fruit? Of course. But would she rather not make herself sick with the horrible taste of it? Obviously.

They stopped again due to Argus's wariness. A soft growl emitted from her throat in an annoyed way, but it could easily be mistaken for her clearing her own throat w a small cough. Glancing up at the crows, she noticed there was one less than before- as well as a few feathers littering the ground. She could smell the blood in the air. They would need to hurry. Who knows how much longer Thatcher would be able to stay in that form?

But she didn't imagine it would be so soon. In the trees there was a thud, and the crows were quiet. The crows were nowhere to be seen. They were thankfully far enough from the public to be the only ones to notice it. The smell of blood grew stronger, and there came a groan from the trees. He had shifted back, right there in front of them, barely hidden by the bushes. But a form that obviously resembled a human could be seen. Nike's eyes grew wide at the sight. She couldn't let Samuel call out to anyone. The man was nice, but it was obvious that there was something wrong. The smell of Thatcher's burnt flesh seeped into the air, and ichor was splattered onto the ground.

"Thatcher!" Nike cried, purely out of instinct and panic. She rushed over, trying to shield his body with her own small one. Her head whipped in Samuel's direction, only this time she sported a mouth full of sharp canines and had a now very obvious snarl to her tone. "You need to leave, now! If you try anything, you won't see tomorrow!" She seemed horribly frightened. One of Thatcher's partially burnt hands reached up to lightly grip her wrist, and she glanced back at him momentarily. She knew what he was thinking. Samuel could help them- give them a place to stay until Thatcher was healed. But the last time this had happened, Thatcher was bound to a stake and burned alive. They could not risk that again.

(Ahh hi! Good to see that ur still here! Thank u for understanding :) )

Nike was practically shivering with fear. She wasn’t scared of Samuel. She was scared for the fact that they could both be caught. While the people of the town might have thought Thatcher was a witch and did not know the method in which he could be killed, it would still be a horrifying and brutal process of them trying. Movement shook her from her shaken state as Thatcher used his grip on her as leverage to sit himself up in the slightest.

It was clear from that moment that Thatcher, now in proper view, was not human. While his physical body appeared so, the gleaming ichor dripping from a cut down the side of his face, from his nose, and from his mouth gave away the illusion. The flames had just barely licked close enough to his face to singe his throat. What gave it away the most was the marking on his right inner forearm. It appeared to be a tattoo, not existing at the time, of a scythe. That is a part of what had gotten him caught, but with his cloak having been stripped from him before the burning, it was on full display.

“Don’t be afraid, human,” Thatcher spoke in a raspy, deep and damaged voice. “We mean no harm to you. I’ve been a wrongful victim to the flames. Take us into your home for rest, and I can promise that you will be rewarded from the gods themselves.” He spoke in a fluent manner, obviously seeming to have some sort of education. If not for his current state, he would have been seen as an upper class individual.

He hushed Nike, giving her a pointed look. She frowned and the canines seemed to slide back up into her gums, and she looked like a little girl once again. She was still guarding Thatcher, but despite his horrible shape, he seemed to still be in charge and in control. He had a heavy presence to him and his stare at Samuel. He had not said it, but if Samuel were to refuse his deal, he would have no choice to allow Nike to take his life. He was unable to, due to his bound contract to serve life, but Nike had free will.

Thatcher thought the offer over, eyeing Argus. There was no way that he would be able to get onto the horse without it possibly lashing out. He threw a glance at Nike, who was looking at him with an equally concerned look. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to do any of this, but if they had to, they would play it safe. “No, I’ll be ok to walk. As long as we are not spotted,” he replied, before asking Nike to help him up.

Nike wouldn’t be able to with him in that form. She turned her attention back to Samuel. “You won’t be able to see me for a little bit… Your human eyes can’t see this form of mine properly,” she mumbled. Her small form seemed to be shrouded in ash for a moment before she seemed to completely disappear from sight. Thatcher could see her though. She was now closer to 5ft tall, and had the form of a three headed hound. She was on the slimmer side, not as muscular as other hounds due to her being the runt of her litter.

Thatcher seemed to reach up and push himself into a stand on air, having used Nike’s back as leverage. Her left head, the more friendly one, nudged him with a little whine. He shushed her softly, giving the head a quick stroke as he leaned against her frame. He was quite tall and good postured, considering his state. His normally well dressed attire was tattered and singed. He reached up with one hand and wiped the ichor from his nose. “It is up to you if you wish to see Nike in her current state. Drinking a bit of the ichor from my veins will temporarily give you the sight of a non-human,” he hummed. “But we can worry about that once we arrive at your home.”

At the mention of bringing the horse, Argus, to the stables first before anything else, Thatcher nodded. He understood wanting to take care of a loved pet of sorts. So many humans were attached to animals that they had domesticated. He couldn't blame them. While most were scared of them, he enjoyed animals. If the situation had been different, he might have reached out a hand to pat Argus's cheek. But he did not want to risk being kicked by the horse who could sense his energy and perceived him as a threat. "That is alright. Let's head to the stables now, then."

As the walk began, he stayed behind and allowed Samuel to lead the way. He did not want to get too ahead of himself. He had a heavy limp to his step, back slightly hunched due to the pain of the burns that covered the skin on it. Nike's three heads would continuously throw glanced in his direction. Nike wanted to speak to him, but she knew better than to start barking now. That could set Argus off and cause much more chaos than was needed, so she hoped that her looks, and body language spoke well enough for her.

"I'm Thatcher," he spoke up after a moment of tense silence. He could feel the fear coming off of Samuel. Maybe it would make things better to know that he was not so different and had a name like other humans, even though it was a very strange one. "I'm no sort of witch. I cannot show you now, but I will promise that I am no threat to you or any other well minded human." He doubted that his statement would bring much peace of mind to Samuel, who barely knew what was happening, but he hoped he could at least clear things up a tad bit so things could carry on in a smooth and controlled manner. "Nike means no harm to you either. I apologize for her display of aggression- she was only trying to protect me as I cannot protect myself in this state," he added, earning a little huff from Nike beside him.

How could Thatcher explain what he was in the simplest manner? There was so much to know about his species, and he was unsure of how to summarize it in this situation. He supposed that he shouldn't stress it. There would be much more time to explain the little details about Reapers.

“I’m a Reaper. Not like the scary, skull and cross bones Grim Reaper from all the bedtime stories. He doesn’t exist. My species takes the souls of those who have a dirtied conscience, and provides life and healing to those who do good. I cannot do so to whoever I like- I have a code to follow. I’ve been around for hundreds of years. They tried to kill me because I preformed one of those healing miracles. Last night, I brought life back to a mother and her lost child. I was accused of witchcraft and placing the spawn of Lucifer into the woman.” Thatcher paused to catch his breath as they reached the barn.

He leaned back against one of the walls to support his weight and give Nike a short break. Her right and middle head kept a close eye on Samuel and Argus while the left head sniffed the area by it’s feet, taking in their new setting.

“I don’t expect you to understand right away. There’s so much more to tell, but no time right now. Just understand for now that I cannot harm you, as I feel no need to and I would put myself at risk of death if I do,” he added in a tired tone. A singed hand reached up to brush his hand through his hair that was tied up into a bun. His finger tips lingered against the silver beads that were braided into two strands, framing the sides of his face.

Thatcher hated the story of the Reapers that had been passed down throughout history. The stories of a cloaked skeleton that would come to steal your soul and bring you to hell. He was much more dignified than that. He had class, he had rules to follow. His being was not just about death- it was about protection and life as well.

At the question concerning Nike, he threw a look in her direction. “Have you heard of Cerberus from Greek mythology? She’s something like that. She’s a hellhound- a dog like creature with three heads. She can shift between forms, and humans cannot see her in this form. I found her when she was just a little pup- she was abandoned from her litter because she was the runt and now she’s here,” he explained. He hoped that would suffice for the time being.

“We really should be getting to your home. It’s not safe out here where anyone could stumble upon us,” he spoke in a hushed voice. “I may be able to change back to the crows again if the distance is short. It takes so much of my energy to do that…”

“I can do that,” Thatcher agreed with a nod. He turned his attention towards Nike. “Shift back once I turn, so he’s is not completely alone.”

“I cannot move quickly. I can quickly walk, but that is about as fast as I can go at this time,” he replied. With him still leaning against Nike for support, he followed Samuel out of the barn, looking around outside. He hoped this would be quick and easy. Once they got closer to the town, he would shift to his crow form and hopefully not fall from another tree while they were on their way to Samuel’s home.

He could tell that Samuel was keeping distance between them, and he stayed a few steps behind to respect that. It made sense that Samuel was nervous around him. He was not human, it made sense. He did not want to cross any sort of boundaries and cause Samuel to go back on his offer to take him in for the meantime. If he became out of a place to stay again, he would have to resort to some last minute measure and either break into some place or find some place outside to sleep. While he did not want to do that, he also did not want to put Nike through that. He could tell she was still anxious about all of this, much more than he had been somehow.

(Hey you around? I had the random urge to join back here or at least check out what has been going on)