~Summary~
In a world where supernatural creatures stalk the night, Larkspur, a Wendigo with an insatiable hunger, navigates a solitary existence defined by her primal needs and tormented past. Bound by an ancient curse and driven by a relentless cra...
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Larkspur's cabin, nestled deep within the forest, was her sanctuary. The solitude it offered allowed her to recharge after her relentless hunts, the only place where she could let her guard down. But even in her retreat, certain necessities demanded a trip to the nearby market. Today was one such day. She had run out of the few mundane supplies she occasionally required—herbal concoctions, various teas, and the blue candy she secretly enjoyed.
The journey to the market was uneventful, the forest familiar and welcoming. Larkspur moved through the trees with ease, her senses attuned to every rustle and chirp. The village market lay at the forest's edge, bustling with life and activity. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meats mingled with the chatter of villagers and merchants.
As she approached, Larkspur pulled her hood low over her face, her death mask hidden beneath. She preferred anonymity in such places, the mask a necessary barrier between her and the world.
The market was crowded, a tapestry of colors and sounds. Larkspur moved through the stalls with purpose, selecting the items she needed. She was at a stall selling herbal teas when she noticed a commotion nearby. A group of men surrounded a young woman, their voices raised in anger. The woman, though holding her ground, looked cornered and outnumbered.
Larkspur's keen senses picked up snippets of the conversation. The men were accusing her of theft, their words harsh and threatening. The woman's stance was defiant, but Larkspur could see the fear in her eyes. She recognized the woman as a Lycanthrope, her senses picking up the subtle scent of smoky wood and the faint aura of power that marked her as such.
Larkspur stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding attention. "Is there a problem here?" she asked, her voice low and calm.
The men turned to face her, their expressions shifting from anger to unease. They could sense something about her, something that made them wary. "This girl stole from us," one of them said, his voice lacking the confidence it had a moment ago.
"Did she?" Larkspur's gaze fixed on the young woman, who met her eyes with a mix of relief and surprise. "What did she steal?"
"She took some bread," the man replied, gesturing to a loaf clutched in the woman's hand. "We want her to pay for it."
Larkspur reached into her cloak and pulled out a few coins, tossing them to the man. "There. She's paid. Now leave her be."
The man caught the coins, looking both embarrassed and resentful. "Fine," he muttered, turning away with his companions. They disappeared into the crowd, leaving Larkspur and the woman standing alone.
"Thank you," the woman said, her voice trembling slightly. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. My name is Elara."
Larkspur nodded, her eyes scanning the crowd for any further threats. "Larkspur," she replied simply. "Are you alright?"
Elara nodded, her eyes wide with gratitude. "I am now, thanks to you. I didn't mean to steal, I just... I didn't have any money."
Larkspur understood. The world was harsh, and survival often required desperate measures. "Be more careful next time," she advised. "Not everyone will be as understanding."
