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25 Everan Faust

_Everan Faust_

Like a caged animal, Everan paced his cell back and forth, harassing the guards on and off for hours. His black and red hair was ratty and wild, though shaved to the scalp on both sides. He was covered from head to toe in dry mud that was starting to pinch at him uncomfortably but he paid it no mind. They had stripped him of his thick leathers and furs, only leaving him in a thin, stained off-white shirt that was loose as if it were too big. It was tucked into his trousers, which themselves were made of leather.

It was not as cold here where they had taken him so he did not mine the loss of a few layers. Not to mention, you could see his arms now, which were more toned than any knife-ear he had seen. He wanted to break their necks with his bare hands- and from the looks of it he could likely do just that.

Everan's people worshiped the beast gods, and thus they tended to act rather wild and unkempt. However, Everan was the worst of these. Though he did have self control, he let himself act in a terrible manner- allowing vulgarities and animalistic growls flow from him freely. He had an easily controllable temper too- one that he let flow as it wished. And he supposed that now was the time to showcase it.

"I'm worth nothing as a prisoner," He told the guard in an almost threatening tone, pacing his cell in an aggravated manner. "As soon as I lost the fight with that knife-eared noble, I was a dead man." He hissed, coming to grip the bars and glare daggers at the guard stationed down the hall from his cell. 

Like all things the knife-ears made and took care of- their prisons were clean. Cells unoccupied by prisoners were cleaned out and made free of disease- so it was safe to say that Everan would last quite a while down here if they were to keep him alive. However, his mouth might rid him of that last part.

"Let me out of here!" He roared suddenly, slamming his hands on the bars. They thumped and vibrated but were otherwise unaffected, the guard flinched and glanced at him but said nothing to his outburst. "I'll kill you first," Everan threatened, but that did nothing. "No... what are you... twenty-eight seasons? Thirty perhaps? Do you have a wife? I know your people like to do that marriage ritual," He muttered aloud, resting his head against the cool bars. His hair slipped down, going past his shoulders and ending somewhere along his midsection.

Everan's people did not care for hair, typically they kept it long but if they were feeling particularly annoyed they would cut it off. The wild folk did not care for such social matters as grooming. He could not remember the last time he brushed his own hair. Perhaps he would shave the whole thing to his scalp if he survived this.

If he survived. 

Everan wasn't making that seem like a very viable option for himself. "I bet your wife is pretty- blonde too. Or perhaps she has white hair- I know your people like them fair. Beast folk aren't picky like the knife ears- we take all of them- even the ugly ones." He said with a grin, but it faded fast as his face grew dark.

"It'll be a shame though," He started. "That your wife would meet such a tragic end." His tone conveyed a mock sympathy but his glaring eyes betrayed him. 

The guard turned to look at him now, seemingly not understanding what it was that Everan was saying- but it was hard to tell through that shiny helmet of his. "Because once I take her, I'll give her to my men to play with- and the wild folk are no gentle lovers." He said lowly.

He thought he saw the guard grow red behind his helmet, but he otherwise looked away, trying to ignore him. Everan continued, just to upset him more. "I wonder what kind of noises she'll make... You know, I hear that knife-ear women are very innocent- the men too. I bet you I'll do things to her that will make her come crawling back as if you never existed!" He said with a laugh.