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sitting by the lake, silent, staring down at the water, then... splash– caught a fish with his hand. nails punctured through it so it doesn't slip away.

some days he can't remember his family's names anymore. that's why he's so protective of his cabin. all the memories are kept there.

𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘬

with a long bleeding gash along his back, he's hanging up the fallen bone charms again. a warning for any wanderer.

roasting rabbit by the fire.

he can come, if he's no threat. and if he's careful not to startle him too much.

despite his careful approach, he still tenses. but he notes his relaxed body language. and his lack of fangs or claws... unlike himself. he grumbles softly, glancing toward the fire, then back to the other. he nods, making some room for him on the log he sits on.

he looks to the other momentarily, then at the rabbit roasting over the fire, removing it with his bare hands. "serghei." he answers, his voice gruff from lack of use apart from growling and yelling. he tears some of the roasted meat off the rabbit, offering it to yeshua.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 𝙆𝙀𝙍𝙍𝙔 𝙀𝙐𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙔𝙉𝙀 ⠀⠀⠀ 𝘚𝘜𝘐𝘛 𝘜𝘗 , 𝘗𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘏 𝘐𝘕 , 𝘗𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘏 𝘖𝘜𝘛 , 𝘎𝘌𝘛 𝘍𝘜𝘊𝘒𝘌𝘋 . ⠀⠀⠀

weary of the old woman in the woods. she is not who she claims to be.

fishing (with his hands)

the claw-like nails and animal reflexes carry most of the heavy lifting. that, and he's been doing it for years now. caught two already.

a skill learned out of necessity. comes in handy either way.