In truth, it was neither, the name being as temporary as his lodgings. But both name and lodgings suited him for now, a quiet and welcome bit of respite before he would be called to duty again. He poured himself a small snifter of brandy and resumed his reading, all the while taking notes here and there.

Come...

The man's head suddenly snapped to attention. Eyes alert, he turned to look behind him. Nothing. He was the only one in the room.

Come...

Again the whispered word and with it, a call felt more than heard. In the back of the man's skull, there was the strange sensation of being tugged...as if there were reins and he was a horse. A sharp intake of breath escaped him as he tried to steady himself against the desk.

Oak before the acorn
Pearl before the sand
Mare shall cry for its foal
The ewe shall cry for lamb
As winter yields to spring
As earth falls to dust
Hear now this old bone's cry
And know thou must...COME!

The man moved as if in a dream, only barely controlling himself enough in time to grab his smallsword before he torn open wide the door to his flat...

...and stepped into forest.

From his position, well hidden in the trees, Thalo carefully eyed his quarry. One well-placed shot with his bow and the hunt would be over and done with.

The Sidhe only sneered. Where would the fun be in that? Instead, he watched as the man crouched down to examine the pieces of the now-shattered skull Thalo had used for his calling. Thalo's brow furrowed thoughtfully. The first observation was plain to see. The man looked young -- far too young to be the older brother of Moira MacDonald.

But Thalo knew very well that youth was only one of the many gifts the nature of a changeling's heritage could hold. And as Thalo continued to watch, he realized something else: the man hadn't started to panic yet. True, he looked around his surroundings in obvious confusion, but his quarry wasn't gibbering madly, his mortal side overwhelmed by the sheer power of Bryn Bresail even as his Sidhe blood called out to the Glamour of this fabled land.

Which, in Thalo's mind, meant one thing.

"You clever little worm..." the Birdcatcher murmured. "...you've walked in this world before...."

He leapt down from the branch, grinning all the while. Startled, the man drew back, brown eyes widening as he realized just who -- or rather just what -- was now in front of him. And though the man ran a nervous tongue across suddenly dry lips, Thalo had no doubt that the mortal was eying him as carefully as the Sidhe had done with him earlier. Still, Thalo held his position, grin never wavering in the face of unnerving silence.

"I don't--" The man finally found his voice, his Avalon accent crisp and courtly. "I don't understand. If I've done something to offend one of the Goodly Folke, then please, noble sir, tell me what it is so I can try to make amends." Though at that last comment. the man gave an uneasy glance towards the broken skull.

A chuckle escaped Thalo, low and hoarse. "Oh, very good...very proper for a son of Avalon." His lips turned into a sudden smirk. "Sadly, such manners are all for naught, but let not said manners be all in vain...allow me to introduce myself. I am He of the Seven Thorns, the Birdcatcher, the Hunter in the Dark. I am Thalo..." The Sidhe gave an elaborate bow, then shrugged, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "I go by many names...as I wager so do you."

Eyes narrowing, the man began to protest. "I don't know what you're tal--"

"Many names, but all I need to know is one..." Pressing on, Thalo held up the walnut, an eager grin flashing across his pale face as he felt it throb steadily. "MacDonald. David MacDonald."

At the mention of his name, David's eyes widened in shock. Any further protest died in his throat as he managed to get out one word.

"...how?"

Thalo picked up a piece of skull, holding it up to David. "When the mother cries, the dutiful child must answer..." The Sidhe casually tossed aside the shattered piece of bone without a glance and took one step forward. "...though I had a little help."

"What do you want with me?" Quiet and tense, but not desperate. At least not yet.

"Myself? Nothing." Thalo bared his teeth into an ugly sneer. "But home in the Marches longs for your presence. A reckoning has been requested and your sister will not be refused. And since my reward will be quite satisfying, neither will I..." He drew his silver blade out, a wicked glint in his eyes as he pointed it towards David. "I offer you a head start, changeling. Amuse me and take it."

David's eyes darted towards his own sword as if weighing his odds in a fight. The grimace on his face said it all as he took off running. The Sidhe was practically purring as the man began his frantic retreat.

"Now we have some fun..."

***

Dammit...

David sank against the trunk of an ancient oak, lungs practically on fire as he panted for breath. The first thing they teach you is "Don't stray from the path". Mind you, it would have helped if I had been on a path to begin with...

He drew in another ragged breath as he took a cautious glance behind him. David didn't know how much of a lead the arrogant Sidhe intended to give him, but he had to take as much advantage of it as he could if he had any chance of surviving this hunt. He shook his head ruefully, taking small comfort in the perverse relief that the Order hadn't been compromised, that this hunt was personal. David pulled himself up to his feet, mind flooding with the memories of far too many years gone by...of a child barely in his teens running for his life and the screeches of his then-baby sister raising the alarm and howling for his blood with the rest of the family.

And here he was, running for his life again. Some things never change...

Tearing through the dark woods, David had little time to think. His options were woefully few. He could either try to find help --another member of the Order or perhaps a benign entity deigning to assist-- or try to find a portal back to Theah, all the while trying to avoid the hunter at his heels or something worse. But without knowing where exactly in Bryn Bresail he was, neither seemed very likely.

David paused, straining to hear any sort of sound, but heard nothing. No wind, no rustling of leaves or cry of a night bird. Nothing...

...not even the sound of his own tortured, shallow gasps.

He suddenly dropped to the forest floor. No sooner than he did than a silver bolt embedded itself into the nearest tree trunk, scant inches from where David would have been standing.

"Oh, very good, MacDonald's son!" Thalo chortled, now stepping into view, cloak billowing forward from the sudden wind. He gestured and the arrow was was suddenly back into his hand. "Very good indeed...the mortal realm hasn't left you that thick!"

David struggled to rise as the Sidhe replaced the arrow in the folds of his cloak and then drew out his sword instead. "A merry enough chase indeed, changeling. You've whetted my appetite now for clashing steel. I do hope you'll give me more sport than the priest..."

Rigby... "You killed him." David's voice was distant as he tried to fight the rising horror. The realization of how Thalo had gotten his mother's skull struck him with full force.

"His death was clean and quick." The Birdcatcher shrugged, then smirked. "Yours will be neither."

David's only answer to that was to finally unsheathe his sword, his expression cold.

"No oaths of vengeance? No silly bravado to back that pathetic thundering heartbeat up?" Thalo asked mockingly. "I was right...you're not thick at all. Yet you know how this will end too, don't you? But you'll still fight. You have no other choice..."

The Sidhe suddenly lunged forward, silver blade aimed straight for the mortal's chest. David barely pulled himself out of the way in time as Thalo chuckled. Reacting on clumsy instinct, David lashed out only to expose his side to Thalo's eager sword. A small cry of pain escaped as he staggered back, his blood now slowly staining his shirt thanks to the shallow cut. Pressing the attack, the Sidhe lunged again, catching David in a feint and giving him another shallow slash for his troubles.

That easily could have been deeper. He's toying with me... The realization struck him as keenly as any sword. I can't keep sparring with him like this. Even if I managed to actually hit him, without cold iron or one of their own blades, my weapon would barely be a fleabite against one of the Sidhe!

"Just...just what are you getting in return for all of this?" David grunted, managing to bring his sword up in time to parry a lazy thrust.

"Nothing you could possibly match, MacDonald's son..." Thalo sneered. "The bargain is made and the oath is sworn. Your fate is no longer your own--"

Thalo suddenly paused, eyes narrowing sharply as he sniffed the air. The wind had shifted, bringing with it now some scent hiding underneath the mortal's blood and sweat and desperation. Faint, but unmistakable.

"...it can't be..." the Sidhe muttered.

For his part David had no idea what Thalo was talking about, but seeing his hunter distracted, he tried to make a break for it again.

"I don't think so, mortal..." Thalo spat out, his earlier playful cockiness now gone. Easily overtaking David, Thalo threw the unfortunate man up against a nearby oak, stunning him. "You have made dangerous acquaintances..."

Before David could even move, Thalo lunged one more time. The Sidhe's blade struck true, piercing David's left shoulder and going straight through flesh and wood to impale him against the tree. His prey's anguished scream tore through the night. Face twisted in maddening pain and panic, David struggled futilely. Taking one step forward, Thalo easily knocked aside his quarry's weapon, then grabbed his throat with one hand.

"...best you not be permitted to renew them."

In vain, David tried to break the Sidhe's grip, but there was no thwarting Thalo's inhuman strength. Squeezing all the while, Thalo clutched a handful of David's hair, then slammed the man's head's back against the tree as hard as he could.

*KER-ACK!*

And again.

*KER-ACK!*

And a third.

*KER-ACK!*

With one swift motion, the Sidhe removed his blade from its unnatural sheath and David crumpled to the ground. Barely conscious and trying desperately to fight off the effects of blood loss and the onset of shock, even now the man still struggled. To rise, to crawl away, just to move. And as Thalo towered over him, David looked up at him and stared straight into his eyes.

"...careless..." David coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood. A faint, but defiant smile crossed his face. "Something...something set you off and you...got careless there, Sidhe. What was it?"

"Not your concern anymore, MacDonald's son..." Thalo hissed. The heel of the Sidhe's boot came crashing down and David's world went mercifully black.

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"Ulf, just because you drank six tankards of Vesten mead and shout "I'm the Oncoming Storm!" does not --I repeat-- does NOT automatically make you a Berserker!" -- Fortunato Valari