Creative Writing The Shadow

New story I'm working on. Just a little introduction; I have yet to proofread and edit this, though. Feel free to make comments, suggestions and ask questions. Warning: It's a little sensual and the likes in the beginning, usual lusty Vampire type thing.

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The sounds of laughter and rejoice coming from the nearby tavern seemed dull to the two figures in the forest, having stepped outside to have a small party of their own. One of the people was a lively young bar-wench that worked in the tavern, her dirty white apron still worn over the frilly, decorative bright blue dress that she was required to wear. Dark black hair to match te night-time sky was pulled back out of her face, behind her ears, a blue ribbon tying it into a pony-tail that ran down between her shoulder-blades to the center of her back, her bright green eyes only half-opened, staring out through her thick black lashes in a lusty gaze at the scenery before her, the other person, a male, pressed to her, against her body. His own dark brown hair was brushed back, behind his ears, just reaching his neck, his full dark brown eyes closed. He was dressed a bit more elegantly in a crimson and gold nobleman's tunic with the breeches to match, tucked into knee-high black leather riding boots. Leather gloved hands slowly roamed over the curves of her hips, his body moving to bend his knee, causing his leg to part her thighs slightly, bringing a deep-throated moan from the girl as she tilted her head back against the large oak tree she was pressed against. Cold moist lips slowly trailed over the bared curve of her neck, his breath, however, warm and heavy against her already heated flesh. Parting his lips, he started to give full, open-mouthed kisses to her skin.

"Mm, when're you gonna stop teasing?" she asked, half-pouting, half-impatiently, her full luscious pink lips in a slight frown. With a broad grin, he chuckeld lightly against her neck, not responding in any real verbal manner. Although the girl had little way of knowing, the man knew fully that the canines among the rest of his teeth grew in length only a small amount, ending in razor-sharp points. As he started to drag the newly-grown fangs over the length of her neck, she suddenly began to pant heavily, her chest heaving. The man knew it was not of fear though; it was a passionate lust, an instinct to beg him to touch her without words, her rapidly beating heart clear to his ears, like the music of a beating drum, beckoning to him, callim him slowly. The tips of his fangs ran over her jugular, leaving thin red trails over her tanned skin, not yet piercing the flesh, his hands moving up over her body. This attention caused her to breathe heavier, panting as her heart beat faster and faster.

"Oh God," she breathed, her hips starting to press forth against him, the leg of the man between her own causing the dress to be pushed between her legs with the apron, the material shaping over the curves of the fronts of her legs. As his leg was pushed further, he could feel and sense her arousal and excitement, the heat clearly felt against his cold body even through the layers of clothing. The contact, even though through their clothes, caused the girl to moan, her hips starting to buck almost involuntarily as the man's hands moved up her torso to her chest, his hands pressing against her breasts as his fingers curled. Her hands gripped the fabric of her dress, pulling harshly upon it, impatiently trying to futiley rip the garment from her body as if desperately needing the man to touch her bare body all over. She groaned loudly as his fangs pressed to her throat, her voice ringing out loudly in the otherwise abandoned forest, begging him endlessly to take her and to do as he pleased to her body, just so long as he touched her. Just as he was about to sink his fangs deep into her jugular, through her soft heated flesh and spill her warm blood into his mouth, he was caught off-guard by a voice, one that didn't speak to him directly, though was enough to draw his attention away from the girl, leaving her in a lusty and passion-filled daze.

"Give Your blessings, Lord, to those who hunt the Shadow," the voice whispered, just loud enough for the vampire to hear him, ebony prayer beads gripped in his hand, covered by a black leather glove. A single bead was held between his thumb and index fingers, it, like its brethern, a pitch black sphere with an almost decorative white lustrous sheen glowing over each one, a thin black string looping through them to make them into a necklace of sorts, a silver cross replacing one of the beads. After finishing the short statement, he moved his fingers to take the next bead between them. "Lord, please offer Your protection to those who are tempted and may fall victim to the Shadow."

With a growl, the nobleman narrowed his eyes, glaring at the new appearance and using little time to take in the details easily seen by his vampiric sight through the darkness. Studded black leather armor was worn over a white tunic, the cuffs of the long sleeves loose about his wrists just shy of the black leather gloves. The hem of the tunic was tucked through a brown leather crossbelt into the waist of earth-colored breeches, his pant legs tucked into brown leather turn-down boots. As he finished his last prayer, his fingers moved along to the next bead, one step closer to the silver cross. He turned slowly to face the two, though his head still lowered, his eyes closed. "Give Your strength, Lord, to those who resist the Shadow."

"What do you want?" the nobleman suddenly hissed at the stranger.

His statement went ignored as the fingers deftly moved to the next bead, leaving but one bead to separate the one he held and the cross. As the man started to move closer to the two, a large brown leather hip-pack could be seen attached to the crossbelt upon one side, a straight-bladed sword sheathed upon the other with a decorative gold hilt and an expertly crafted and designed hand-guard, taking the shape of two extended feather wings, crimson and scarlet tassels projecting from the butt of the hilt. The nobleman was only able to recognize the sword as a foreign blade. "Lord, I beg for You to give Your forgiveness to those who stray from the Path Of Life," the praying man continued.

The nobleman was becoming more enraged at the bothersome and pesky man, starting to stalk in turn towards him, to try and clear the distance between them much quicker, leaving the young girl against the tree in an ever-passionate daze. "Answer me now, you lowly peon!" the vampire demanded.

The statements seemed to once again go ignored as the praying man allowed a smile to cross his lips. His eyelids slowly lifted with his chin to reveal paled blue irises surrounding pitch black pupils, the bright color contrasting with his dark clothes and his straight black hair that ran to his shoulders, the hair taken in groups, the silky-smooth strands tied into thin braided locks. "Lord, give me the power needed to exorcise this being that comes from the depths of the Shadow," he said with his fingers upon the final bead before moving on, finally, to the silver cross, the fingers of his other hand trailing along the hilt of his sword.

"Bastard," the nobleman growled, rushing the stranger as his hand reached out quickly to his throat, though even with the absurdly blinding speed, the stranger had some how woven out of the way, to the side of the vampire, almost as if he had seen the attack coming before it had actually occurred. In a fluid motion, the vampire continued through with his attack, his leg snapping out and coming back around towards the back of the stranger's knees. However just as quickly as he reacted with the first attack, he moved again, his body leaping back and into the air in a simaltaneous action, his knees tucking up to his chest as his fingers curl tightly about the golden hilt, quickly pulling the blade from the scabbard and in a fluid motion, slashes an arc into the sky, then down across the now-vulnerable torso of the vampire, the very tip of the blade ripping open the tunic and searing and ripping open the flesh just enough to start bleeding. Even after the blade had long left his body, and the stranger was crouched in front of him with his head lowered, the flesh about the cut and the muscles and veins within burned and singed horribly, causing him to cry out, while all the while, the girl remained in her mindless daze. "Ahh!" he shrieked. "It... burns! It burns!"

 

The vampire continued to touch the area around the wound as he gasped, panting in pain, keeping his fingers at least a fingernail's length away from the wound so as to not aggravate it. It burned considerably to him, a sensation he had not once felt in the eternity that was his life, the feeling was simply excruciating and then some. Though rage quickly took over and pushed out the pain just enough for him to act again. With a loud battlecry that echoed throughout the depths of the forest, he charged towards the stranger, his hand striking out in a straight punch towards his throat. True to the nature that he had shown so far, though, the praying-man ducked under the jab, weaving to the side and rising up. This time the vampire reacted a bit faster, his other hand sent out in a quick back-hand towards the stranger's cheek, though the effort was futile as the stranger leaned back and to the side, allowing the hand to pass by simply. He took advantage of the vulnerability once more, bringing the glistening blade of the sword skywards in an arc, the razor sharp edge of the long slender blade passing through flesh, muscle tissue and bone alike, chipping off the elbow as his arm was severed at the joint, cutting it cleaning in half. Much like had occurred with the first cut, both parts of the limb smoked, muscle tissue falling like smoldering ashes from burning incense to the grass below with freely-dripping blood too dark to be red, but too light to be black. Another howl from the creature echoed out as he gribbed the stub of what was left, his fingers curling it as he held on to it tightly, swearing loudly and cursing the stranger. "Damn you! Damn you to the depths of Hell! Ahh, damn it, it burns!"

Stabbing the sword into the ground to allow it to stand up straight, the stranger grabbed the nobleman by the hair, suddenly throwing him face first to the ground, into his own blood with the severed limb within in a inch away from his face. Before the vampire could get back to his feet, however, the bottom of the stranger's boot collided with the small of the nobleman's back, pushing him back down to the ground. He pulled the blade out from the dirt and grass, twirling it above his head, the tassels twirling in perfect unison with it. In a quick, lightning-fast movement, he drove the blade down as hard as he could, the tip of the blade piercing through his shoulder blade at an angle, impaling through his heart and chipping off part of his ribcage in the front as it drove through the other side of his body and into the grass below, a large squirt of the hideously colored blood jerking up, the stranger leaning back to make sure it didn't splatter him. Thrashing wildly, the vampire under his foot and the sword tried to escape the pain, even if he had to tear the blade from his body himself, though the efforts amounted to nothing as the weight of the stranger's foot seemed to be enough to keep him down until finally the squirming and trashing came to a halt and the shrieks were silenced. Twisting his wrist, the stranger gave a quick tug of the blade, ripping it from the body with the dark blood running over it. He leaned down, wiping it clean upon the dead vampire's tunic before placing it back into the scabbard.

It was at that point in which the screams of the forgotten waitress from the bar had caught his ears, causing him to jump and spin quickly to face her, worried that perhaps some nasty little friend of the perished vampire had taken her in some form of payback. Though, when his eyes fell upon her, he found it was for the reason that she was staring at the corpse of the undead creature lying in its own disgusting blood in the dirt and grass, lying in crushed leaves of the recently arrived autumn. Her hands rest against her mouth, as if she were trying to muffle her cries, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at the sight. Perhaps it was from who was killed and she had no idea just what he was, or perhaps it as just from seeing a man with a hole in his body, right through, missing an arm and in a pool of his own blood. In either case, the stranger deemed it necessary to try and comfort her, hurrying over to her side and grabbing her shoulder firmly, yet not harshly, the prayer beads still held in one hand as he shook her lightly. "Calm down!" he said loudly. "It's okay, you're safe!"

The girl immediately pressed herself to the stranger, sobbing loudly with her tears dripping from her eyes, over her curved cheeks and onto his armor. Although as strange and uncomfortable as it felt for him, he still wrapped an arm about her, patting her on the back as he tried to comfort her. It seemed as if they were there for hours and hours on end, until the man thought that at any moment the sun would rise. However, by the time the girl had pulled away, seeming alright, it was still dark out with only the crescent moon and myriad of stars hovering in the sky to provide light through the canopy of the forest above them, dull colored leaves and thick branches still enough to cover a majority of the sky. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, trying to catch her breath, the occasional breath coming out in a long, drawn-out shudder. Patting her lightly upon the shoulder, the man furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to try and look her better in the face with her head slightly lowered. "Feeling better?" he asked her.

She gave him a shy little nod of her head, still wiping away at her eyes with a deep-hearted sigh as she stammered. "Y-yeah. I t-think so." With another sigh, she reached her hands to her hair in the pony-tail, tightening it and proceeding to straighten out her apron and dress and make herself look as presentable as she could after the whole ordeal. Lifting her head, she gave the stranger a puzzled look as she murmured quietly to him. "W-who are you?"

Offering her a light smile and nod of his head, the stranger replied quite simply with just his name. "Prasyl Virwalk," he said casually as if it were your everyday conversation.

She nodded her head slowly, her tongue slipping out to moisten her dried lips as she responded in turn with her own name, yet only her first, seeming to deem it not important for this stranger to know her family name. "Aria." Just as she responded, her eyes diverted back to the fallen corpse of the nobleman, to only let out a horrified shriek as a hand covered her mouth, the other pointing right at where the body was left. "O-oh my Lord! L-look!" she cried out.

Prasyl spun quickly to look to the body, almost expecting it to have somehow risen up to strike him down in vengeance. However, that was not the case; in fact it was quite different as when he had looked upon the body he found something missing. Its head. Somewhere, somehow, along the line it head been removed at the neck, and no where to be found with only another pooling puddle of blood left behind in its place. His reaction wasn't quite the same as Aria's however as he didn't act so much disgusted as disappointed, groaning as he placed a hand to his forehead. "Guh. Damn it. How... when? Damn. No matter," he muttered, turning back to look to Aria. "I think it's time that we went back to the tavern. Let me walk you, I need a place to stay the rest of the night anyway."

And with that, the two of them headed back in the direction of the tavern, the noise only having died down a small bit since the ordeal had taken place, the prayer beads still in Prasyl's hand as he quietly said prayers to himself while gripping each and every bead.

 

I like your descriptions. They're intense without being too much. I also admire the fact that you could pull off a scene of intimacy as you did, which is difficult to do right and without going overboard with descriptions or getting too explicit. The little bit at the end suggesting that Prasyl has memory issues looks like it will be big in the future.

Looks good so far, just needs a little editing, mostly for small typos (which I won't be fussy about, since you did say you haven't done proofreading yet). Good show.

 

UPDATE

"I-I just want you to know," Aria murmured to Prasyl quietly as she tilted a cooled bottle, red wine slipping out of the mouth of the bottle into a wineglass she had set before him. Once finished filling the glass, she sets herself down onto a stool behind the bar, right across from Prasyl. "I'm not usually... like that." She whispered her words quietly to him, trying to make him understand that she really wasn't some kind of streetwalker. "He was just... I don't know."

With a soft smile, Prasyl slowly shook his head. Candles and lanterns were set up throughout the main room of the tavern, upon the many tables and the long polished bar, a bright orange fire flickering in the hearth. The light that littered the inn flickered over him, giving more details that previously couldn't be seen in the dark forest such as the delicate yet detailed features of his face, a youthful appearance with a lithe figure of a body. Dirt and some blood smudged his skin and his clothes, though he didn't seem to be much bothered by it. He still held the beads in one hand, taking the wineglass into the other. "It's okay. I know how they work," he stated plainly, smiling, having to speak up over the many patrons that laughed and talked with each other drunkenly while the barmaids gossiped with each other when they weren't serving drinks to the men and women at the tables, only one other maid behind the bar with Aria. Though there were few others who sat at the bar besides Prasyl.

"So," Aria murmured as she eyed the half-full bottle of wine, slender fingers running along the neck of the bottle. "Was that really a... vampire?"

Prasyl nodded his head. "Yes, they're all around really. Some want only to be left alone," he murmured as he shrugged his shoulders. "Then there's the kind like that fellow you met, who are... well a bit more malicious."

She gulped, her hand moving up to her neck, gently rubbing where she had felt the vampire's teeth upon her flesh. "My Lord. I can't believe it; I never expected to see one. And, of course, nearly-," she stopped suddenly, a rosy-colored blush dusting her cheeks as she lowered her head shyly.


After taking a drink from his wine, Prasyl merely smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you’re not the first. That's how they generally get their victims, trying to seduce them."

"And I guess you, well, hunt them?"

Prasyl nodded. "Have been for a few years now."

The two of them continued to exchange words between each other through the night, discussing with each other their pasts and other details about their lives. Aria explained to him how she was born and raised in a town only an hour away from the tavern, Kern. When her parents died from a disease when she was only fifteen, she was picked up and taken in by Val’Sharen, friend to her family and the rightful owner of the tavern since her husband died. Taking Aria in, she gave her a job at the place and she's been working ever since, for the past seven years, saving up her money until the day that she planned on going on her own. "And now you know how I ended up here... now it's your turn."

Prasyl laughed lightly, shaking his head slowly as he shrugged his shoulders. He told Aria of how he was born far to the north in the Tundra lands, born into the Laisez Temple just out side of Foorze, a small community of people. His mother died shortly after giving birth to him, leaving him to be raised solely by his father and the monks of the Temple that his mother and father were a part of. Since as early as he could remember, he was trained in how to meditate and how to wield a sword, having no idea of what use it would aid him until he finally turned seventeen years old. Upon that day, his father revealed to him what all of his training was for; to exorcise evil and demons, such as those that are called vampires. Since that day, his training became harsher, and more mentally, physically and emotionally wearing until he was set out on his own by the time he was nineteen.

"What kind of things did you have to train in?" Aria asked him curiously, a light blush coloring her tanned cheeks as she lowered her head, realizing that she had cut him off, chewing on her lower lip.

"Well, all of the hunters were trained to use certain weapons and also how to train our bodies. By the time we finish training, we're suppose to have learned how to use at least three different kinds of weapons and how to manipulate our body," he replied with a light smile, taking the glass up to his lips to sip at the wine.

"Oh... what do you mean by... manipulate your body?" she asked as she crossed her arms, lifting her feet to rest upon the legs of the stool as she watched him closely.

Prasyl gave a light shrug of his shoulders as his eyes quietly watched the red liquid with paled blue eyes. "Just... techniques to use. So we can keep up with the evil in certain attributes." Taking another sip from the glass, he left it at that.

Aria nodded her head lightly, glancing about, having only just noticed that at that point the tavern was near empty, the maids cleaning up the mess of the night. "Oh my! It's almost dawn," he gasped loudly, lifting both hands to her mouth.

Prasyl glanced back over his shoulder to make the same observations that she had. "Yes, it is," he murmured quietly as he turned back to her, a brow arching delicately upwards. "Do you by chance have a room to spare?"

Aria pondered upon this for a moment, her eyes glancing about as if taking in the surrounding scenery would help her in recalling what rooms were taking. Though a frown soon crossed her lips as she came to a realization that she hadn't even thought about before. "No. The maids and servers take most of the rooms. It leaves us with few rooms to actually spare customers, which is why we're really only more of a tavern than an inn at this point. Oh, but, there are plans of building additions!" she said, hopeful. Yet, her spirits fell again. "But... that doesn't help us now, does it?"

Prasyl shook his head. "It's okay, really. I don't mind traveling a bit more. Thanks for the drink," he told her while pushing the wineglass across the bar to the other side so that it sat right in front of him.

She watched him quietly as he slipped out, staring blankly at the door as she took the glass by its stem, sipping what was left of Prasyl's wine quietly. Jumping as a hand suddenly touched her shoulder, she set the glass down hurriedly and glanced back over her shoulder to have her eyes meet large, doe-shaped brown eyes staring down at her over a small smile upon the face of an elderly woman, her graying blonde hair pulled back into a braid away from the wrinkled elder face. "Oh. Lady Val'Sharen," Aria murmured.

"What happened to your friend?" the older woman asked her almost immediately with her hand still upon Aria's shoulder.

Aria laughed nervously as she pulled the ribbon from her hair to allow it to cascade down. "Oh, he had to leave. You know noblemen."

Val'Sharen let a sly grin cross her lips as she shook her head quickly. "I mean the priest, Dear. Why'd you let that catch go on and get away?" she asked her almost as if she were talking to a mad-woman, causing the blush already upon the younger woman's cheeks to only grow brighter as the blood rose to her skin. "Go ahead and go get him, Hon, before he gets too far," Val'Sharen added, winking.

Aria stared blankly at her for a moment as if she truly didn't understand what the older woman was trying to say, but before long she bolted up from the stool and to her feet hurriedly and rushed outside and onto the porch of the tavern. Though reality struck her harshly as she reached outside, gazing over the small clearing that led right back into the forest towards Kern and within any thing in eye's sight, Prasyl was nowhere in her sights, having most likely disappeared into the darkness of the forest some time ago to be on his way. With a soft, disappointed sigh, Aria trudged back into the inn, her feet feeling more like lead than ever as she merely shook her head at herself at the mere thought that Prasyl would still be around. "What was I thinking?"

 

Val'Sharen looked up to Aria as she made her way back inside, her elderly eyes almost immediately catching sight of the depressed gaze caught deep within the younger woman's eyes causing her to furrow her eyebrows lightly. She continued to wipe down the bar with the gray rag just as she had started to do after Aria left to find Prasyl, the other workers still scurrying about to clean up what was left of the mess about the tavern caused by the customers, wiping down tables and sweeping dirt from the floor out the door. Aria sat on a stool slowly, staring blankly at the fire as the dancing flames reflected in her green eyes, having paled considerably over the short amount of time. Her fingers twined slowly together as she shifted quietly on the bar stool, other girls stopping their work to turn and look at her before giving each other nervous glances. The elderly woman set down Prasyl's glass of wine that she saved in front of Aria, having made sure none of the maids had made off with it to empty the contents and clean the glass. "He's gone," Val'Sharen observed, speaking quietly.

Aria could only nod her head as her hand subconsciously seized the wine glass gingerly, bringing it to her lips and sipping quietly as she continued to only stare blankly at the fire as the others continued to watch the solemn expression as it spread throughout her face. It was a young girl, about Aria's age, that was the first to speak up to her, a girl with short and curled red-orange locks and freckles dotting her cheeks under bright jade green eyes that matched Aria's eyes when she was in a relatively happy mood. "Well, what the Hell is you doing just sitting here?" All eyes soon fell upon the red-headed girl, even Aria's own shocked green eyes lifting from the fire to gaze in a broad-eyed wonder at the girl, lips parted as she tried to stammer out a response but the parting of her lips was followed only by silence. Just when it seemed like she was about to say something, the very same girl cut her off. "Get out of here and go find him! He couldn't have gotten far!"

A dark blush came over her cheeks, coloring her tan flesh a bright red as she lowered her head with multiple pairs of eyes watching her every move. She hadn't really thought about the fact that she seemed so desperate and obsessed with this man that saved her life, and even weirder, she knew about him what they didn't and all these women seemed to condone the action much more than she had even considered. Val'Sharen nodded her head in agreement with the red-headed girl as she crossed her arms, leaning forward to rest them against the surface of the bar top, shooting a light smile at Aria. "That's right, hon. Get on out of here and find that boy. My woman's intuition tells me he probably went on over to town to get a good rest in the inn over there. Didn't seem very well equipped to take on the wilderness, all by himself at least either. Huh, ladies?"

All the other women agreed with each other as they gave confirming nods, randomly giggling between each other about Prasyl. Aria giggled along lightly, her face still blushed as she realized that all the women had been watching her as she walked in and talked with Prasyl and suddenly worried how she looked to all of them; perhaps like some crazy, love-struck fool. She was completely and utterly clueless as to what could possibly be fueling her on at this point, what compelled her to go out and follow this mysterious man to wherever he may end up going. Perhaps it could have been due to the simple fact that he saved her life and now felt obligated to help him until she felt his deed had been repaid, or perhaps it was some silly crush like one would expect from a teenager. Either way, she rose quickly to her feet and threw her arms about Val'Sharen in a tight hug as the elder woman patted her lightly on the back. "Thank you, very much," Aria murmured quietly, unraveling her arms from about the woman and hurried upstairs. All eyes followed her form as it disappeared into the hallway upstairs and down the darkened hall into her room. It was a cozy little room, a single mattress bed with a pillow and down-feather comforter with a desk topped with a lantern in the corner. In another corner was a small chest, dark brown leather enforced with worn brass, much like the one that each person that worked in the tavern or the few that managed to rent a room had in said room to hold their belongings. Removing the key that fit the lock from an apron pocket, she hurriedly unlocked the chest and flung it open, the key clattering loudly to the ground as she began to rummage through the contents. She withdrew a few garments; earth-gray breeches with a forest green tunic and a dirt-brown traveler's cloak, clothes she had hidden away in case she had ever had to leave for some reason. Stripping down, she placed her apron and dress into the chest and pulled on the traveling clothes, wrapping the cloak tightly about her body and drawing the hood up.

She continued to dig through the chest until she found a wide leather belt, a closed pouch dangling from the side by the drawstring, jingling as it swayed. Hurriedly, she wrapped the belt about her waist and pulled out a pair of weatherworn leather boots, replacing her sandals with them and lacing the boots tightly before slamming the chest shut and locking it, slipping the key into her pouch. As she hurried out of the room then back down the stairs in a flash, her small, lithe form almost collided with full velocity into the taller Val'Sharen and before she could come to her senses, Val'Sharen had pulled her cloak open and attaching something she couldn't make out to her belt. Before being able to get a glance at it, Val'Sharen pushed Aria along until she hurried out the door and nearly leapt off the porch onto the spongy emerald green grass. Breaking into a run, she rushed right into the forest and when the light from the still-lit lanterns from the tavern had dimmed to the darkness of the night before, she stopped to see what the older woman had given her. Looking under the cloak, her fingers traced over the redwood hilt of a long, slender dagger, the handle wrapped in brown leather and the blade covered with a black sheath. Patting it gentle, she let her lips curl up into a soft smile as she lifted her chin, looking about as she tried to recall the directions held within the depths of her memory to lead her to the town of Kern and before long, she was on her way.

 

Oh, that's good. Sorry I can't help you.