His Corrupted Heart [Witch-King x OC]

Chapter VII : How A Friendship Began

"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend." -Albert Camus

Two Days Later...

Finally Inconnu had discovered better hunting grounds.

She had thought that they would come upon something like this much sooner, but the Huntress of the North had underestimated the power and reach of the darkness that the High Fells of Rhudaur possessed. Inconnu was currently crouched, hidden by the dead foliage and concealed by her grey Elven cloak. She smiled as she remembered the gifts of Galadriel and Haldir before she left their forests, but as Inconnu remembered Oromë's gift of Ghost's Song her smile faded slightly.

Still she remembered the vision it gave her, obviously of a time long past and, as her intuition told her, from the last days of Arnor. Inconnu also still had the feeling, which her Patron confirmed, that there was no happy history to the blade. A past that the Great Hunter would not tell her, leaving it to Er-Murazor and she understood as well as accepted it. Inconnu's smile widened again at thinking of the Ringwraith by his name rather than the title he was most commonly known as.

Thinking of him still, Er-Murazor had calmed considerably in demeanor ever since she had returned his blade to him. It seemed like he took her gesture of trust to heart, at least what revealing to be one, and in his own way he was extending his own trust to her. Er-Murazor had not made any explicit show of it, but Inconnu understood the reasoning behind his most recent interactions with her. He seemed more kind in word, no longer biting at them though was brief with them.

Well, Inconnu then smirked to herself, as long as one does not strike at his pride too hard.

Inconnu was certain that even though he was returning to his old self little by little, day by day, his pride has always been a part of who he was. She accepted it though, knowing that she too had her own flaws in character, there was no reason to be ashamed of the fact. The best thing one could do was acknowledge their flaws and work to be better than that, lest they be consumed by the definition of those traits. Inconnu's attention strayed when she heard the snap of a nearby twig and notched an arrow in her bowstring.

It was a trap she had set up, spreading thin and weak twigs around her, providing an early warning system for anything that would enter the range of her longbow. With keen eyes that could only belong to a hunter, Inconnu scanned the area and in the distance saw a fat rabbit. It was standing at attention, long ears standing just as straight as its body as it too looked around the area for the threat it sensed. Inconnu softly sighed in relief, glad that her future meal didn't immediately run off when it snapped the twig under its large hind feet.

She drew back the string and raised the bow up just enough for a clear shot at her prey, all the while completely silent. One of the first lessons Inconnu had ever learned in her first years as the Huntress of the North was to respect the Hunt, no matter how big or small. It was a game perfected as an art by only very few, and Inconnu was proud to name herself as one of those individuals. This was displayed as she waited patiently for that singular moment in which the timing was right, for when she would release her readied arrow and claim another successful hunt.

That very moment arrived quickly.

Inconnu released her arrow.

She listened to the shaft's faint whistling as it soared through the air and the dull thump of the rabbit's body falling to the forest floor. Inconnu carefully stood from her hiding spot and looked around again for any potential thieves of her meal before walking from where she stood to claim her prize. She inspected her fallen prey, crouching down once again to better see her shot. The arrow had gone straight through the heart. A perfect shot and the quality Inconnu had come to expect from her Hunts. Inconnu gave a short whisper of thanks for her success in the Hunt before carefully removing the arrow from the rabbit's chest.