[Decision made then. One loss is enough, and Alucard squeaks out something - an apology and his gratitude - before he takes flight, his wings beating as fast as his tiny little bat heart can manage.
Air is not better than the ground. Alucard knows that, knows that there will be birds of prey mixed in with the hunt. All the same, a panther will struggle to track a scent of a thing in the air. Be it this or wolf form, Alucard knows which one the situation calls for.
Going home cannot happen. The castle has been warded to be unfindable, but his scent may yet lead pursuers much too close for comfort. He's already going to be dealing with the fall out of this when he returns home. There are no good options of what to do for his own safety.
He keeps flying, ears keen for threats above and below, but truly seeking the sound of thundering hooves. This is a terrible option, but it is the safest of the ones available to him. Once home, he'll probably be barred for leaving anyway.
So there's a tiny little zip of a thing that passes over the great procession of thundering hooves, proud wolves, prouder fae who run riot over the land tonight. And in it all, there's a small bat now huddled into the fluff of one of their cloaks, sour and furious.]
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Air is not better than the ground. Alucard knows that, knows that there will be birds of prey mixed in with the hunt. All the same, a panther will struggle to track a scent of a thing in the air. Be it this or wolf form, Alucard knows which one the situation calls for.
Going home cannot happen. The castle has been warded to be unfindable, but his scent may yet lead pursuers much too close for comfort. He's already going to be dealing with the fall out of this when he returns home. There are no good options of what to do for his own safety.
He keeps flying, ears keen for threats above and below, but truly seeking the sound of thundering hooves. This is a terrible option, but it is the safest of the ones available to him. Once home, he'll probably be barred for leaving anyway.
So there's a tiny little zip of a thing that passes over the great procession of thundering hooves, proud wolves, prouder fae who run riot over the land tonight. And in it all, there's a small bat now huddled into the fluff of one of their cloaks, sour and furious.]