The Haunted Forest RPG

"Witch?" Ezria looks up, suddenly alert. He tries to picture the girl in his head, she didnt look like a witch, and she didn't smell like one. How could she...
"Take me to 'er." He exclaims. "If she's gone, prove it to me."

One of the guard throws a limp body onto Ezria. "Happy?" he said.
 
Zahir heard the sickening thud as the body slapped into Ezria and rolled onto the floor. This was the time to act. Zahir hoped this might trigger the wolf's bloodlust.
 
Ezria feels the body hit him but cannot see what it is. He squirms around on the floor, his arm brushing against a cold hand. He can smell the blood. He shouts something and kicks her away, pushing himself along the wall and falling onto his back. His head rushing with a thousand different thoughts and questions. How? Why? When?
"How can I know that's her?" He asks, trying to keep his voice steady. He can feel his hair tingling, his skin crawling. He clenches his jaw and tries to keep his composure.
 
Ezria feels the body hit him but cannot see what it is. He squirms around on the floor, his arm brushing against a cold hand. He can smell the blood. He shouts something and kicks her away, pushing himself along the wall and falling onto his back. His head rushing with a thousand different thoughts and questions. How? Why? When?
"How can I know that's her?" He asks, trying to keep his voice steady. He can feel his hair tingling, his skin crawling. He clenches his jaw and tries to keep his composure.
The guard said "Don't know, maybe look, you idiot."
 
"Come on, wolf. Use that sniffer of yours. I thought you wolves could tell apart all sorts by smell," Zahir goads, trying to provoke intense emotional response. Perhaps his rage could cause him to break free.
 
"It's too dark." He spits through gritted teeth. He knew exactly who it was, but wanted to keep conversation going to give him a chance to form a plan. His blood was beginning to boil, the more he thought about her the angrier he got.
 
Grunting, his bonds loosen slightly. This is enough for him, as he changes into a snake, his limbs shrink through the loosened wraps. The ropes fall to the floor. Gathering up into a coil, he turns and strikes at the nearest guard, sinking his long fangs into the place where your neck and shoulder join, injecting a large dose of neurotoxic poison, enough to kill an elephant. He brings his coils up and around his prey, pinning his arms to his sides, and squeezing the air out of his lungs.
 
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