I Have To {Rae and DeadAngel}
 

(Human:
http://fc07.deviantart.net/images3/i...a/Assassin.jpg

Wolf:
http://i302.photobucket.com/albums/n...3df2be6d_z.jpg

Name: Ashera Cryelle

Age: 22

Race: werewolf

Occupation: Assassin of the Pyrom Pack; this makes her part of an elite group just under the betas and the alphas. They don't really have to answer to anyone but the alphas and betas, though even then they don't really obey as the rest of the pack members obey.

Alpha male: Jorda Yon
Alpha female: Lyona Yon
Beta male: Fredrick Willson
Beta female: none at the moment; some say Fredrick has a crush on Ashera, though those are just rumors.

Brief History: Ashera was born and raised in the Pyrom pack, and her parents are still part of the pack as well. Her mother is a fine healer, and her father is a warrior of the pack. She has two brothers, Dynier and Mortoa, who are a guard and a warrior. Chosen as a young pup, the mentor for all of the assassins gave her the best training and the most elite moves. Her number of contracts is unknown to anyone but her; she takes contracts in order to protect the pack and for her own money. They are some of the few werewolves to operate outside of the pack for long periods of times. Currently, she's been taking contracts far from her pack...but they've called her back to take one that might prevent a war.)

Darkness swirled across the forest as the moon rose to the top of its peak, and the stars twinkled a little the sky of deepest black. However, it was proving to be one of the darkest nights of the year. This night filled the wolves with energy and strength; she felt it in her very bones and in the grass under her grey paws. A flash of silver could be seen through the dark branches, but she was mostly hidden due to an intense amount of stealth and keeping to the shadows. Ashera was not on a contract at the moment, though she moved like she had to sneak up on someone. Not a stick crashed under her light paws, and her step made the smallest amount of noise in the silent woods.

Ashera had a coat of silvery grey, which wasn't the most desired color for her line of work. However, she used a disadvantage to be an advantage whenever she could, and her coat could be used as a distraction for a target if used correctly. Her mentor had told her to always be careful, to step lightly and to use any disadvantages to her advantage. That was what made her a very good assassin, afterall. She thought quickly and never went back once she had made her choice. So far, she hadn't messed up anything. Ah well....she wasn't cocky, however. Just kind of cold. Her eyes, a bright purple in color, didn't have any warmth anymore, not like when she was a young pup.

Darrar would never recognize her now.

She walked into the main camp of the camp and sniffed; the pack was splayed out in various reposes as the evening was when they stored up energy. The guards walked around the perimeters of the pack on their patrols, but otherwise things were quiet. Making her way into the center of the camp, Ash turned human again. The main tent of animal furs stood out amongst the plainer ones; Jorda stood in the entrance, waiting for her. His black hair stood out on his head. She walked slowly up to him.

Moving, he beckoned her into his tent. The place felt like it always had, a war room and a home at once. He stalked to the table set up on the floor, then motioned for her to sit across from him. Though the assassins didn't always obey their alphas, she chose to do so this time. With a single nod, she sat cross-legged. He picked up the scroll...the same scrolls, tan and a little tattered that could be folded up very small. Ash raised an eyebrow a little as he took the roll and shoved it across the table to her.

Words were never really said with Ash. The reason was simple; she was a mute for the most part, as assassins tended to be. They preferred sign language or the body language of the wolves instead of talking. Other werewolves talked, but assassins liked silence. Silence meant that, if captured, they wouldn't be able to talk or spill secrets. Ash liked the silence anyway, as that meant that everyone ignored her instead. Assassins enjoyed being able to just slip around as they pleased.

Pursing her lips, she unrolled the parchment...and read the biography of the target. Royalty? Sure....then she saw the name. Her eyes widened just a little bit at the very thought that she had to...take out her old childhood friend. Back when the vampires and werewolves actually got along, she went with the alpha and met the vampire royalty. Darrar had been her good friend and one of the few creatures that she actually confided in; this had been before her vows of silence. They had played together, laughed together. Tag and hide and seek, chess, board games....

But this was real life. She nodded once to her alpha, then took the scroll and slid it away into her pocket. With conflicted thoughts on her mind, she turned and slid back out of the camp. Frowning, she shook her head once. Her eyes sought out her mother, who was sitting outside a different teepee with her father. They were proud of their daughter, as only the elite became assassins...but a part of them wanted her to be normal. That wasn't happening though. She dipped her head to them, a greeting, then surged to the edge of the clearing. A leap, and then she was wolf again, streaking towards the border and the vampires settlement.

http://images2.fanpop.com/image/phot...77-800-600.jpg
Name: Darrar Demonia
Age: Looks 21 really 228
Race: Vampire.

Being royal had some perks, but not many. A prince, you would think to be happy, actually is boggled down with responsibilities at a young age. However, being a vampire also has it's perks. Mortals fear you and obey you, you get anything you want even if not royal, and some other trivial matters. The thing is though. Being a vampire prince is not what many believe. Darrar spent most of his life training in combat. He did have some friends growing up, many of which have either died, stopped talking to him, or just disappeared.

Stretching his arms out wide Darrar yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was twilight, what a perfect time to awaken. As the covers flew off his body he looked in a mirror and saw his perfectly sculpted body and chuckled, "Ignorant mortals make it sound like we can't see ourselves in mirrors because "We have no soul" but we still have flesh." Smirking his piercing ice blue eyes fell upon the door. "A shower will do." The velvety voice faded as he entered the bathroom grabbing two daggers on his way.

As he exited the shower his snow white hair clung to his face. Smiling at the shadow his fangs slightly shown. His father came from the shadows and smiled back. "Son, a war is soon going to start between us and the Lycans." Walking closer he grabbed onto Darrar's shoulder standing right next to him. "Unless you figure out a way to keep peace, war will ensue." As his father exited Darrar glared at the floor. Taking the daggers he strapped them onto his boots and put his sword on his back. Not one to want to start any wars he sighed out loud. He had to figure something out and fast. In all honesty, he wouldn't be surprised to find someone came to assassinate him, then again, that happened quiet a bit already. . . Just not with the Lycans.

Secretly he still wondered if Ashera would even remember him, much less recognize him. . . His hair changed from black and he bulked up. . . No one would have recognized him, so he thought.

By the time Ash got to the borders, it was far too late for her to safely approach the palace. Unlike human assassinations, the timing for vampires was very different indeed. They slept during the day, which was the most opportune time for her to go after him. She walked to the edge of the wall and shifted human again, brushing black hair from her pale skin. She'd had darker skin in her youth, when she actually played around in the sunlight, but now she was pale and almost the color of paper. If she wasn't careful, she'd be taken for a vampire herself...bloodsuckers. Instilled within her was a healthy dose of distrust of vampires in general, something her elders had dine their best to make sure that she understood.

Behind her back was a sword, and she had various blades along her legs and arms. She sat in a grove of trees, alone and distant from the town, then pulled out the scroll from her pocket. Hunger was coming over her, so she decided that she needed to get a rabbit first. Most everyone showed a disgust for raw meat, but Ash and the other werewolves found no such distaste. She studied the scroll for a moment, a moment of weakness so unlike anything that she'd done before. Normally, she took the name and went to take care of the target. But...not this time. This time, she found herself, holding the scrap of paper and trying to talk herself into it.

And if I don't... If she didn't kill him, then her family would pay the price. Failure was not an option for assassins; they either finished off their target or paid with their lives. And if they had a change of heart and spared someone...then it was their family, their parents, siblings, silbings' families, mate, children that suffered the punishment. If the assassin dared to come back, they too would find a silver bullet waiting for them. The rules were strict and laid down in stone; once the path was taken, he or she couldn't stop no matter how much they wanted to.

So it was either her family or Darrar; sighing, she folded her parchment away and put it in her inner pocket. Food first, Darrar and this mess next. Any other assassin would have been just fine with killing him, but she found herself thrown for a loop. He had been a good friend to her. Anyone else would have been easy to kill...but this was a childhood friend. Ash hadn't had too many growing up, and he'd been close to her. Sure, she had been young when he was older. Sure, he was a vampire and she a lycan. She remembered running through the garden with him at her heels; for all the world, he was one of the few that had been actually nice to her.

So what was she going to do? Eat first; it didn't take long for her catch and eat a rabbit, then bury the remains deep beneath the roots of an oak tree. Once she was done with that, she turned human again and picked several leaves off of a tree. Werewolves had a distinctive wolfish smell to them, a scent that Darrar used to complain about all the time. Frowning, she worked until she was sure that her natural smell had been coated by elm, then turned and headed into the town. It was a few hours before dawn when she reached the palace. Did he still live in the same room? There, there was where they'd run together. And there...

Shaking her head, she grabbed a branch and launched herself up into the welcoming shadows. Silence filled the place, which was devoid of even birds at the moment, and she climbed stealthily until she reached a branch that overlooked the room that he'd once had. Was it the same one? She peered into the window, both hoping it was and hoping it wasn't.