Why do trees make the worst frenemies?

As far as his memory took him, Xiao Jing wasn't a particularly skittish child, for it wasn't becoming of the son of Father Xiao to lack a backbone. He'd been stern with both his (and Lan's) subsequent upbringing, adamant to solidify a great myriad of morale into the young boy even at the tender age of three. Courage was a value too easy to obtain for a hardened child who knew little of listless play and more of the ruthless and cruel battle arts, much unlike any of the other children who'd live on in their little oriental village. However, it wasn't strange to mull on the possibility that his desire to stand as his sister's first bastion of protection was what influenced his growth, contributing to his smooth transition into a matured mind inside a young boy's scrawny physique - a person that could ultimately defend whatever evil that came by Xiao Lan's everyday.

While he might resent his father who gave him little time to enjoy that short part of his youth, there persisted the sole truth that the training administered to him was what kept him alive. Jing was a survivor regardless if nearly everyone in their area perished under the musings of a tragedy. And for what it was worth, the little redheaded child that everyone found to be extremely strange was the only one who managed to salvage what was most important to him on that regrettable day.

Even if she, his most beloved sister, could not truly escape the clutches of her fated death, a part of him knows that he'd still fulfill part of his dreams back then - and these tiny insignificant wishes that tore him asunder upon their failure were still at large to drive him one of these days, but was he cautious? Hardly, it appeared. The reason why was what he had no answer to, however.

It didn't matter. It no longer did. He was here now, unbidden, unaffected by the forest that looked to be menacing on the surface. While most of his outstanding moral compass came to rot and rust with Marux's undoing, Jing still held a courage to spare. Dead trees remain dead and still, creeping shadows pale in comparison to the darkness in his soul, and inhumane sounds are nonexistent, whispers of the damned but futile attempts at life. Had they not known that death is the end-neigh? Rest is what's best for them, he muses, attempts at haunting the living only further leaves a bad impression on the dead - at the very least, they could have the decency to remain in their graves.

"Y-you're...i-i-i-impossible...J-jing!" cries his exceed, "W-why...did you...pick such a t-terrible job?!"

Truthfully, the request was a little impractical, and more than unnerving for the common folk to take up in willingness. Some of the weaker mentalities scared easily, and the Spooky Woods (what a cliche name, but fitting, still) was a location that spoke of death in a number of ways that the jumpy ones would rather not visit, ever. Meilin teetered a little too closely to that spectrum of fear, though the slayer insisted to her that her frights could be controlled with as little as defantasizing the wild images running through her head.

Would it have an effect on an exceed's hyperactive imagination...he isn't sure, though he hopes in relentless effort that Meilin wouldn't think of skittering away after a screaming at incomprehensible octaves, to further disappear into the woods that the redhead was so sure would take him all night and the subsequent morning to weed through, looking for a black cat that could so obviously hide herself in a pit of shadowy black overgrowth.

He stifles a groan, a hand gently padding across the exceed's head as she burrows further into the spaces of his bag, free of contents and mostly her carrier, though suffice to say it must have been a sanctuary in comparison to the hell outside that the redhead was currently traversing.

"...It was the only paper on the board this time." he mumbled, still walking, unfazed, "You know I had no other choice."

The exceed choose to speak no further as her black-pelted body descends to a curl inside her slayer's bag, shaking her head in affirmation to both he and herself that she had better chances of surviving this ordeal and everything else it entitled once she goes to sleep. By force or not, she has to slumber, if not to rescue her self-control...and herself.

'Goodnight.' he mouthed, lightly so, much like how he'd shut the mouth to his bag with a clip of a metallic lock. Granted, he needn't worry over Meilin's lack of air, for he'd already modified the thing beforehand to accommodate all the basic necessities such as an air hole and a water dispenser. A little transformation such as this was in line with his expertise and it was far too easy to finish, somewhat unsatisfying in all honesty, unlike his previous trinkets that cost the slayer many a sleepless nights, his body slick with oil and sweat.

Nevertheless, Jing would swing the bag's straps over his shoulders, adjusting the weight as if to bring both of them some semblance of comfort despite the unorthodox situation. From his pockets, he'd dig for the paper he'd folded a while back. Behind the scribbles that described tree beasts and savage woodland creatures was a haphazard map that Jing constructed in a lack of time, quickly sketching the directions that he'd receive from asking around the area for the whereabouts of an imposing, column-framed portal at the heart of the Spooky Forest.

Not too long ago, the pair were to be seen entering the woods and should his wrinkled map have any merit to it, the redhead was no farther than a few meters to his destination.

He fit himself a grin on an impulse as he gripped the incandescent pumpkin that glowed a nice, comforting orange light between his fingers - the exceed were to provide him the curious thing as a 'better torch', as she herself proclaimed. Jing would still be somewhat dubious at its durability and duration, but it was a thankful remedy over lugging a torch all night.

"A few paces right....~" he said to himself, showering the path parallel to him with a bright, endearing light. There were no creatures surrounding him as far as his draconic senses were to service him, so Jing found it enough to simply accomplish the search before he'd deal with the beasts later.

Conserving energy, he mused, was what his lazy bum truthfully excelled at...however hesitant he was to admit to it at times.

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In the Spooky Woods, nature had a habit of imposing unto you a form of fear most primal. To any sane man, this was not a leisurely walk like those common on the finest Sundays at the local park. Far from that, whatever Xiao Jing was currently indulging in appeared to more than just a slightly scarring and yet, still, the redhead hurries along unperturbed by the situation even as he was essentially a lone man whilst his exceed continues her slumber in peace. There wasn't room for worry when this forest turned out to be the equivalent of a cheap indie horror film in comparison to your hellish youth, anyway.

"It should be right around here...~"

Fixated on his mission, the redhead further approached the glowing blue light beyond a small clearing, as if the trees were purposefully bent back for ease of travel. Once there, his eyes are immediately filled with the grandeur of a portal lined with an ancient marble frame, where sprigs of what looked to be ivy plants crawled thickly over the structure. A part of him lamented over the fact that he didn't equip himself with the right tools to harvest the plants for some devious little experiments, though it was a short-lived feeling that he'd discard after having leapt through the portal in as little as a single breath.

He wasn't expecting much, yet it was hard to ignore the disappointment at how dismal his entry into the other world was. A second he'd have gone through the light with his enthusiasms rearing his energy into his legs, and the next moment he's smack-dab at the center of a camp that seemed to have seen better days.

"Sheesh, this place is a dump." he said.

"Well this dump," a voice echoed, "is what we've got left."

Hostility appeared scarce as the slayer eyed the figure to his right, where a ghastly pale face parted through tent folds with an oil lamp in tow. On face-value alone, Xiao Jing hazards a guess that he'd have several years ahead of him in regards to age, but not all that much that the redhead would have to practice formality in front of a senior. The camper clutched at the material of his tent in vehemence as he completely exposed himself to the outside world, his expression tightening in something that Jing could only picture as fear, and caution.

"...Another one of them huh?" the man's words were hesitant, but nonetheless concrete, "I'm afraid you have to turn back, we can't take care of you here."

Parallel to this stranger's were several more tents, and while it seemed he was confronted alone, Jing vaguely felt the scrutiny directed at his person from the other campers present. Strangely enough, the pairs of eyes that peeked through the folds of their tents choose not to intercept him personally, but continue to look on, resigning to the safety of their little make-shift shelters for reasons that the redhead decided at this point to be of trivial importance. What bothered them in a way that created the suffocating atmosphere in the first place was more than likely to be what Jing came here for.

The ginger waved a hand dismissively, "That's fine, I'm not here to stay."

"You're not?" asked the stranger, both eyebrows curving into his forehead, "...Are you saying you're going to...fight it?"

Personally, fighting were to be partial goal - for when you had a hunger insatiable by battle alone, satisfaction did not come until dominance be instigated and a single victor be determined. He liked winning, simply put, which meant he was more than set on killing the thing in as brutal a way as painfully possible.

His grinned jerked upward a tad, though he still poised some sort of decency in case he let his crazy slip. "To the best of my abilities sir." a single arm feels it way to his back, gripping Stormbinder by the handle as it sat across his waist holster. "I'll make sure the problem is over and done with."

The stranger across him further gave him more than just a judging stare, eyes narrowing seemingly as if he'd caught unto the redhead's intentions in full. Regardless, perhaps they too wanted to see an end to their predicament, and if this man, whom the slayer assumed to be their camp leader, did not pity the ones who cowered half-close to insanity from the trauma, then surely he wouldn't let Xiao Jing be as he did right then, offering a small, as if hopeful smile.

"Alright." he started, lowering his oil lamp as he gestured towards the path in the other direction, "Down that path...you'll probably encounter it as long as you continue following it. That, and some other things too."

Of course, he hadn't came unprepared in the event of the other monsters coming after his person. Naturally these predators would come hurling over to the next possible target to make of their meal this night, but that were not to bother him, if only because of his already generous excitement that throbbed inside his head, sending him forward into the deep, shadowy walkway.

"Thanks a bunch!" he said, tossing his gratitude across his shoulders. Not even a single, cursory glance was sent their way as he darted along the road without looking back - most likely they already pitied him, but he didn't need that, the thought of being looked down upon sickened him so.

Later, a small part of him became acutely aware of the padding of animal paws and the low, ominous growling from somewhere beyond the shrubbery. he'd toy with the pumpkin lantern that sat in his fingers, tossing it in listless breaths as he anticipated the enemies first move - graces first, of course, he was an uninvited guest, after all.

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The predatory howling of a pack of wolves was never a sign of good will, rather, the sounds themselves, almost too haunting to bear, were taken with caution almost on a mandatory level. These animals were hunters to their very cores, and neither the size nor the strangeness of human bodies deterred them from their primal urges should they chance on a free meal ever so conveniently entering their hunting grounds.

"Survival huh?" the holster at his waist comes undone with an audible click, "If I wasn't about to be mauled, I'd feel a little bit nostalgic."

If there was anything invaluable that he'd learn in Marux's forest, it was that the first attack determined everything. And no way in the seven hells was the redhead allowing himself to mess up the slightest second once he aimed Stormbinder at the approaching pack of wolves. A ball of white lightning gathered at the gun's muzzle, the crackling sounds ominous, but more so the sonic boom that followed its release as it darted through a clearing in the woods. The attack continued to collide against the space before it, later bursting into an eruption of blinding white sparks, presumably after it hit something in its route.

With neither the time nor the opportunity to assess the casualties, Xiao Jing readied his follow-ups, the rotation practiced to better fit situations like these where he'd been severely out-numbered. A slither of electricity laced over his skin when the second band of wolves rounded a corner towards him, their proximity daunting if not for the slayer's already established liking for close-combat. He engages, steeling a fist in tune to the forward momentum that overtook his body and he is responded in turn with the bite of predatory teeth digging into his knuckles. Bright white sparks fly off his skin and into the beast's mouth, surging across its pelted body even as the redhead grabbed the wolf by the snout and tossed it to one side a little violently. It shuddered, but the others came in a swarm of overwhelming numbers. The slayer jerked an elbow back to intercept one that tried to lunge for his exposed side, later finding a brief second to circle one leg into another's stomach, sending it skidding into a nearby shrub.

The waves relentless, Jing returned the pursuit for blood in kind. His arms curl in a menace as his plans pan out in his head with a violence unrestrained. The lightning snaking up his arms further claw up his chest and up the skin on his neck, bathing the slayer in ceaseless power that is suited best for his advantage alone. The wolves take no moment for pause as they fully bar their fangs to their prey, the moonlight serving the action some good in a sense that they almost appeared to be the stuff of nightmares. Not that it bothered him in the slightest - these mutts looked to have a more ferocious bark than a bite.

Three lunged at him in hunger, and the slayer subsequently angles Stormbinder's muzzle into the one closest, driving the pointed tip in before firing a shot. By swinging the limping wolf body backward, he manages to throw the other one off from taking a mouthful out of his neck. The last one he takes a moment to dodge, one step back in liberty before busting his heel down its skull, the sparks that festered off the motion effectively turning the blunt force just a little bit more lethal. The onslaught isn't the least bit deterred by the decrease in numbers, however, leagues more of these predators closing on the redhead with their ugly snarls in tow.

A beat passes, and one leads the group snout first in full frontal assault. This time, most of them cooperate, bounding off at terrifying speeds. The towering forms of the trees were more of a hindrance than not, though his element did fairly decently even in a condensed environment. Xiao Jing leapt back accordingly, slapping both palms together before pressing them against the soil in harsh fashion. The effect was at best, instant, prickles of white sinking underneath his fingers and out the other way, erupting in spikes as they wedged themselves snugly into the wolves. Some were not impaled any less brutally than the slayer had intended, and those who managed to evade happened to be rendered air-borne from the rapture, scattered and limping from having been thrown off from coordination like that.

For good measure, he fires Stormbinder across the area, letting the volley of bullets run rampant. This continues for several minutes until the redhead pulled a huff from his lungs, a cheerful grin dancing along the tired lines of his face. He settled the umbrella gun into its holster momentarily, the straps humming to life as it recognized its contents. After having dusted himself off, the slayer recalled his kill count and promptly surveyed the damage so far.

"One..two..." lips thin into a line, "Fifteen? That's a bit lower than what I felt coming...where are the others?"

There was a moment of brief comprehension for Jing prior to the attack, an instance where the revolting smell of bloodlust overwhelmed even him. The number here did not exactly match up to his expectations, but the air about was tense - too concentrated to be populated by fifteen hungry predators. There was more to come, that much his gut told him, and by the state of things, the slayer doubted that the campers harbored fear for these common beasts.

It, he remembered them calling, was realistically more powerful than these things, perhaps.

In playful nature, Xiao Jing stretched his arms, the roll of his shoulders gentle in comparison to whatever noise his little tricks made. "What a great warm-up." he mumbled, "Now let's go see what else is here~"

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