Chasing Scars

Of course he side stepped from her blow. Of fucking course. She let out an indignant cry when her razor sharp blade bit deeply into the tree he'd been leaning against. A tree! That sword was an equisite instrument of death, not a fucking ax! She moved to wrench it from the bark, and she swore she sensed the magic in the same second her shoulder barked in protest - Reckoning remained soundly where it was. Ashe whipped her eyes to the man then, her teeth bared with unabashed fury. ”I just sharpened this!” she snarled before she could stop herself, and her face flooded with heat at the way his blackened cheeks moved upwards - the insufferable bastard was smirking. She growled, and for a moment she thought to just release her sword and tackle him right then and there - His upraised hand halted her, the firm look freezing her in place. Her teeth grit with her restraint, but she took the chance to try and discern any of his features.. gods dammit, she couldn’t even tell the color of his eyes (something pale, blue, green?) with his deep hood and blackened face, that scarf covering his lower half. With a scowl, she watched his hand then, and.. was that a puppet dog? Ashe scoffed when he shook his head, rolling her eyes dramatically before she gave him a sharp smirk. ”Scared of getting bit?” she purred. Even with her smirk, she kept her withering glare on him as he backed away. He didn't want to contend with the wolf? Fine. She'd been the best assassin Northwind had ever seen without the wolf, without her magic even. This wouldn't be anything new. She watched his gaze, and she followed it, observing the trees above them… it clicked then, and she grinned. It would be a good vantage point to get a lay if the land in the woodlands, and it would be a challenge she hadn't done before. Ashe was nimble and could move through treetops easily, but her assassinations were rarely on the road.. and when they were, it was usually a fat noble in a carriage. Her head snapped back down to the hooded man as soon as the pressure vanished from Reckoning. She snarled and wrenched it from the tree - gods it was going to take forever to sharpen it - and then the man was swiftly ascending to the treetops. His movements validated her suspicion: he was among the upper tier of Northwind's underworld. Either he was one of the assassins that survived the slaughter of the Guild, or he was a rival. She recognized the kind of training anywhere. She'd been thinking heavily on it this last week, and she still couldn't quite figure it out - a similarly trained fighter, he knew her in Northwind, he had known she was the wolf… Ashe didn't wait long, she glanced about and found the tree best suited for her, and she made her way up without hesitation or falter, never releasing Reckoning. The assassin hauled herself up to a branch and crouched with her hands between her feet, locking her eyes on her opponent. She flashed him a wide and wicked grin before she haughtily gnashed her teeth at him. She’d show him rusty. Ashe launched forward, as she chose her path, dashing lithely through the treetops that had shed their leaves. She was to the tree he'd been waiting for her on in a heartbeat, branches hardly moving under her feather-light weight. Kalt ashetta it's live or die my way.