"As you wish but there's gonna be some noise from me making the weapon just so you know." She warned as she started to climb into one of the cars although not before she found a decent size stick to make the spear. You could hear slight scraping noises as she used the bayonet to remove the bark and make it smooth. She then added the bayonet and was ready to rock and roll.

Dente only nodded as she clambered into the railroad car. He heard rustling from the trees, and a new gust of wind ushered in a faint smell of whatever it was stalking them. He squinted into the trees, stepping back toward the railroad car to close the gap between him and L’ange. Something hissed, an offensive sound, coming from his left. It burst out of the trees, dragging a snaking vine with it, thudding onto the shorter grass between the tracks and the trees. Its ember-like stare, glowing in the moonlight, was unmistakable: A Nyte demon had revealed itself, and its stance only made the creature an even bigger threat.

He appeared human, aside from the glowing eyes, the grayish skin, and the odd bent way he stood like an animal on its hind legs. The black hair looked like bunches of snakes, loose and flying in the wind, and when he smiled, sharp, bleached-white teeth gleamed as brightly as Dente’s dagger.

He backed up, moving away from the railroad car in case L’ange wanted a shot. He made sure those odd orange-red eyes remained on him, always on him, unpredictable and slow, contemplating every move between the two. Dente held the dagger in front of him, slightly to the side in a slashing motion.

L'ange heard the movement too and poked her head out of the top of the rail car. She took out a pebble and loaded the sling she whirled it fast and hard loosing it with the precision of a master. The flying projectile caught the creature right at the base of his skull. Before the monster knew what had him, she sent several more flying aimed for his upper back, neck and head hoping the strikes would fell the monster without either Dente or herself being injured.

The demon howled under the barrage of fire from L’ange, rolling out of direct line of fire. Dente leapt forward with his knife at the ready, slashing twice, once connecting with the offender’s arm as it reached up to shield his eyes. His blood was dark, much more than L’ange’s or Dente’s would be, and he growled with teeth bared as Dente backed away. The demon said nothing, but revealed a blade of his own: Black stone had been sharpened to a point, stone found deep within the planet, rarely found or used for its odd property. He dove forward with the knife point straight out, almost digging into Dente’s stomach before he jumped backward.

He felt another nearby, watching and waiting for a chance to strike. The presence was distracting, almost to the point where Dente would have dropped his knife and waited for the other to appear. But with another at his side, in a way, he went forward with knife held high and brought a foot up, kicking the demon back and over a spare bit of metal. Losing his footing, the demon fell, but with the momentum he rolled backward and was back on his feet.

As soon as the monster stood up L'ange sent another barrage of stones most slightly larger than the ones she had sent the first time. Please dear heavens let this work. She prayed as she increased the size of the pebbles again, but this time the rocks had sharp edges. Hopefully a well placed stone to the base of the skull will kill this f*&^er.

The demon turned as Dente moved aside, backing away when the large, sharp-edged stones took flight. One struck his neck, burrowing deep and burst out of the back of his head. As he fell, Dente whirled around, sensing another presence. It was larger than the first, but had the same smell of something dead but alive, in a way. Before he could move again, something stabbed through his back and out his stomach. A sword, resembling his dagger but much longer. The wielder, larger demon, moved around him, a wolfish smile on his face. Dente reached for him, fingers winding around the black handmade tunic, and he lurched forward. The blade pierced the demon in turn, driving deep. The demon's cry was high and quickly lost on the wind, and it fell, ashen skin becoming brittle and flaking.

Dente reached back and pulled the sword out of his back, and fell backward. The wound was painful, a white-hot stabbing sensation that spread through him. The sky had become dark, the stars no longer bright, the moon simply a black hole in the expanse above him. He was cold, and only getting colder, and the wind seemed to stop, sucking all the air out of his lungs. Silence pressed down on him, but in a way he could still sense someone near. That grasp on life was faint, but present.

Only a moment passed before the air was released back into the world, and Dente gasped. The pain had dulled, and the light was coming back to him in painfully-bright pinpricks. With heavy limbs, he pushed himself up, death eluding him once more.

L'ange cried out as Dente fell to the ground. What the hell have I done? She asked as she started to cry and climbed over the tracks to the now lifeless body. Just before she got there she saw Dente's small, but muscular chest rise and fall in very shallow breaths. "Dente talk to me hun. I'm gonna try to get you back over ton the rail cars okay? I'm sorry if I hurt you." She gently clear the area of the obstacles between them and the rail car. "Ready?" She asked as she slowly started to pick him up and carry him piggy back.

“What? No, no no.” Dente struggled back and stepped up, shaking his head. “Just dizzy is all.” Looking down, he sighed in exasperation. “Another shirt, stained.” He looked up at L’ange. “By the Gods, are you all right?” He asked. “You did very well at long-range assault.” He stepped forward, slightly off-balance. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He said. “I’ll always be all right, no matter what happens to me. When you think about it, that isn’t the best thing in the world.” He smiled, in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Grabbing his dagger and fitting it back into his belt, he leapt onto one of the overturned rail cars and sat.

L'ange ran forward to help steady him. "I'm fine and thank you for your compliment." She sighed as he got on top of the rail car. "If you want I can see if I can get the stain out and mend it for you." She said as she riffled through her bag finding her laundry supplies, and she produced a small silver box containing her sewing equipment. "All you have to do is ask."

Dente had to smile. For some reason L’ange brought out his softer side, perhaps because she resembled his long-lost sister so well. Kind but very able to take care of herself. She certainly was something, L’ange. Able to see him and not sense that horrible emptiness, that black hole that only a soul could fill. L’ange didn’t hate him, didn’t run away from him or kill him and go on. She spoke to him, as anyone else would scream hateful threats or simply in fear. But as she pulled a silver box out of her bag, he shook his head. “Don’t trouble yourself.” He said. “These clothes are getting a bit frail anyway. I’ll be getting some new ones from the city nearby.”

"As you wish." She said with a shrug as she packed all but her rations up. She broke of a piece of semi stale bread and handed it to him. "I know it isn't much, but I'll share what I have if you want. I won't bite promise." She smiled as she continued to divide the vittles between the two of them. "I'll have to stop and buy some supplies there too. I need a longer skirt."

Dente took the bread with some reservation. It had been years since he had last eaten, and he silently wondered how his taste had changed after so long. When he nibbled the side of it, the taste was nothing he had never experienced before. It was a bit hard, dry as bread was, mostly tasteless. The same he had always known. He glanced back at L’ange, noting she was dividing the items she had. Slipping the bread behind him, he leapt to the ground.

“You don’t have to waste anything on me.” He said. “You need it more than I do. You could always trade some for the longer skirt you need…” He paused. “Or, I can get the material and make one for you free.” He had thought about it when the wind picked up again, winding through the rip in his thin shirt. He had always stolen the fabrics he needed to make clothes.

"Oh it's no problem. I'd feel so guilty no making sure you have what you need too." She smiled as she packed everything back shaking her head at his offers to sew for her. "No that's okay I can do it myself. Thanks for the offer though. If you want I can buy the fabric for your new shirt." She smiled as she started walking closer towards the town. "Want to come with so you can pick out the colors?"

"I don't need it." Dente assured her. "I've not had the need to eat ever since my soul was taken, nor have I need to sleep." It was always difficult for him to remember that he was less than human, someone who could never die and never be considered an equal, but a lesser being, something resembling a statue. With that thought lingering in his head and L'ange's voice speaking up again, he hurried forward with her. "I will hate to take advantage of you," he said. "So you keep your money. I'll do what I always do and take what I need. I was headed to the town anyway..." He paused and ran his hand over the hole in his shirt. "I don't choose many colors anyway. Mostly white."