Post by Elijah Mikaelson on Oct 28, 2017 0:13:34 GMT
I'm bad luck baby, you know. Follows me around everywhere I go.
419 words ♦ Kol Mikaelson
Tracking his younger brother’s whereabouts had been more difficult than he’d anticipated, Kol having taken particularly good care in covering his tracks for once, and though it pleased him to see that he was being more cautious, Elijah couldn’t help but question why he had suddenly changed his nature. Though he wouldn’t dare aloud. Not if that reason would end up saving his life.
They needed to start work on the issue of their old enemies rising, and though Kol was unpredictable at best, he fought incredibly well. Uncoordinated, but well, and Elijah felt a relief that it was he that he was going to start this hunt with. Of co, rse he had his concerns, how many had returned was unknown. If they’d only rise as continuously as they were to be put down, it would only cause more issues that they’d have to overcome. But Elijah was confident they would succeed in the end. They had before. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to repeat history. Exhausting, undoubtedly, but not hopefully difficult.
Something gave the elder momentary pause, a sense that something was amiss though he couldn’t quite place it. Was it a misplaced footstep that didn’t match his or his sibling? A branch that snapped unnaturally in the wind? He wasn’t certain, remaining eerily calm, the temptation to call out to Kol high, to tell him to stop, to not make a sound. Though he refrained, almost questioning if he’d heard anything at all before he saw the movement, his own actions quicker than the wolves’.
He’d been tracking Kol as Elijah had been, that much had been evident, though unlike him, he was entirely unaware of Elijah’s presence and so his sudden appearance behind him had caught him by surprise, as had the fist that had punched through his ribs as if they were paper, strong fingers gripping his heart, it pulsing quickly in his grasp. Tearing it from his chest was far too easy, allowing the organ to drop on the crumpled body, studying the face of the wolf a moment, recognising him almost immediately. He’d been one of a pack who had attacked them back when they were still young, Kol and Klaus had worked together to kill his father on one of their little sprees, which explained his reckless vendetta.
“Let's hope this time he remains dead?” he offered, gaze lifting to Kol, an amused smile touching Elijah’s lips. “It would be quite unfortunate for him if we had to keep killing him.”
They needed to start work on the issue of their old enemies rising, and though Kol was unpredictable at best, he fought incredibly well. Uncoordinated, but well, and Elijah felt a relief that it was he that he was going to start this hunt with. Of co, rse he had his concerns, how many had returned was unknown. If they’d only rise as continuously as they were to be put down, it would only cause more issues that they’d have to overcome. But Elijah was confident they would succeed in the end. They had before. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to repeat history. Exhausting, undoubtedly, but not hopefully difficult.
Something gave the elder momentary pause, a sense that something was amiss though he couldn’t quite place it. Was it a misplaced footstep that didn’t match his or his sibling? A branch that snapped unnaturally in the wind? He wasn’t certain, remaining eerily calm, the temptation to call out to Kol high, to tell him to stop, to not make a sound. Though he refrained, almost questioning if he’d heard anything at all before he saw the movement, his own actions quicker than the wolves’.
He’d been tracking Kol as Elijah had been, that much had been evident, though unlike him, he was entirely unaware of Elijah’s presence and so his sudden appearance behind him had caught him by surprise, as had the fist that had punched through his ribs as if they were paper, strong fingers gripping his heart, it pulsing quickly in his grasp. Tearing it from his chest was far too easy, allowing the organ to drop on the crumpled body, studying the face of the wolf a moment, recognising him almost immediately. He’d been one of a pack who had attacked them back when they were still young, Kol and Klaus had worked together to kill his father on one of their little sprees, which explained his reckless vendetta.
“Let's hope this time he remains dead?” he offered, gaze lifting to Kol, an amused smile touching Elijah’s lips. “It would be quite unfortunate for him if we had to keep killing him.”
