It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, all things considered. Dahlia was hardly a good place to be caught in, but it was also a place that those strong enough or cruel enough to endure the environment would have no problems adjusting to the area. Astrid herself had spent some time there prior to arriving within Hosenka, finding the area not too bad. Granted, much of her time had been in the company of the weapon that she held so close, the dagger that lay within her possession, seldom seeing the light of the world outside of the instances in which she would bring the weapon down upon the throats or spines of another, ending their life in a single, fell, unforgiving strike.
She couldn’t remember it ever requiring a second strike.
That was how much of her time in Dahlia was spent. Her being the hunter, maneuvering through the streets, stalking whatever she could find, much like that of those who similarly hunted throughout. Vampires, werewolves, other sorts of creatures; their role as competition for the human flesh that Astrid had found herself more and more indulging, certainly within Dahlia, simply made them expendable in the eyes of the ghoul. She wasn’t afraid of them. But the same could not be said for the caravan that was escorting her, a near instance of mutiny taking place when it was made clear that there was no option outside of venturing through the cursed region.
A threat of murder from Astrid was enough to see that that was the route that they were going to go. It caught them off guard, admittedly. To see the one that was being escorted pull a knife and so easily hold it to a man’s throat, pushing and pushing to the point that blood had been spilled and began to trail down the neck. But it wasn’t that that scared them.
It was the look of hunger on her eyes as she watched the blood drip, looking up to the man, the look evident enough. If he would not comply, she would consume him.
779/1400 (-20% Censor of Dragon's Blood, -10% Zera'thul)