Closed Are We There Yet?

[Kwantu]

54th of Summer, 514AV.

He didn't know what time it was, but Leth's light glowed proudly through the slats in the walls, and the few shutters left open in the late night breeze. All of the Fang should have been asleep in their scratchy, uneven hammocks, but Kwantu wasn't. The material dug into his back constantly, and for the upteenth time, he tried to reach a hand back to scratch the spot - nothing. He even tried rubbing his back into the hammock in the hopes that it'd scratch the area for him.. but it just made even more spots appear all over his lower back, craving attention and creating uncontrollable twitches. He squirmed, but it did nothing. Eventually, he sat up, just to reach back to grab those spots and scratch to his hearts content. The puckered scars were becoming irritated, but he didn't pay attention to that. Instead, he leaned back and tried to fall asleep, again.

He couldn't. He scratched at his back again, and the hammock swung uncomfortably underneath him, but he tried not to let it bother his sleep. Every time he tried to find a comfortable position, the whole sheet creaked and swayed, nearly throwing him off in the process. His spear, resting on the side of the hammock, threatened to topple over completely with one wrong move. The day was yet to come, and waking up the fang was the last thing he wanted to do. Except, it was what happened. He tried to lift an elbow, and it bumped against the cold steel of the metal head by complete accident; reaching out to grab it sent the whole hammock skewering off to the side, and with a heavy thump, he landed square on the sleeping Daku beneath. Their combined grunts of surprise, followed by the heavy clattering of the wood and metal spear slamming into the floor and rolling about, had many of the others jumping up in ticks.

"Hey! I like you as a friend man, but this is a bit far!" Daku, somewhere between a jovial tone and rather annoyed grunt, shoved at Kwantu's face to try and get the slightly larger man off.. but that only succeeded in tilting the hammock off-balance and sending them both down onto the hard floor instead. Both Myrian's heads slumped against the hard floor, and although it wasn't too far off the ground, it still knocked the air out of them both. When Kwantu opened his eyes again, Daku was cradling the side of his head and his sister Liikta stood high above, gently shoving her toe against his ribs. Not only that, but the rest of the fang was up.. including Reiki. About the worst thing that could have happened.

"Well, since Kwantu seems so intent on rising early, let's make the most of our time, huh? A few laps around the courthouse, some early-morning sparring, and then we'll come back and prepare ourselves for patrols. We're taking the wilds today, so be sure to bring everything you'll need for a long journey." It was astonishing, how quickly Reiki got into action - practically scooping Daku up with an iron grip, and shoving him in the direction of the courtyards. Thankfully, Kwantu managed to rise on his own accord.. although that didn't stop her from giving him a shove, for good measure. If Reiki wasn't standing there, he could think of a fair few other Myrians that'd give him a good shoving for measure.

Nevertheless, soon they were all out of the door, in the near-dark of the morning. "Come on, all of you! Time to wake up!" Of course, none of them were in the mood for any running. He could see Daku lagging behind and receiving occasional jabs from Liikta; Kerr shooting daggers in her eyes between all of the fang. Even Makal didn't look all too happy, and Reiki hung back to keep away from that loose arrow. Shurak. Why couldn't they have more comfortable hammocks...

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

[Kol]

The jungle was quiet and foggy, the color drained from everything. Kol stood in the center, searching, trying to yell but all that came out was silence. He continued to scream, his throat hurting, but still no sound resounded. A static buzz rustled, breaking the frustrating quiet. Kol turned, frantically looking for its source. It grew louder, closer. He began to run, a fear building within him. The faster he ran, the more it chased him, his head barely able to handle the level of intensity it had risen to. His mind began to hurt, and he stumbled, looking over his shoulder. And then he smacked into something, falling to the grey floor, the world a rush of black and white around him.

Knocked to the ground with him was a girl, bright and vibrant. She stared at him, her finger tips reaching out to touch his face "...Brother." A smile began to rise to her lips and Kol noticed that the incessant buzzing had stopped.

'Dahlia! Dahlia!' Kol struggled to breath from the relief, pulling her into a strong embrace. 'I found you.' He buried his face into her hair, relief washing over him. His chest felt warm and he pulled back. Horror flashed. The color was sapped from the girl, the only thing left was the red blood that pooled from her chest. A dagger protruded from her heart. 'Dahlia?'

A sharp clattering jolted Kol awake, the last image he had of his sister shattering into a thousand pieces of broken glass. He sucked in a deep breath, throwing his face to the side. Two fang mates laid sprawled out, weapons knocked over; the commotion waking the others as well. One of the early birds Kol recognized as Kwantu. Lifting a hand, Kol ran it over his face, not sure if he felt thankful for being pulled from his nightmare, or irritated at how exhausted he felt. He took a few more deep breaths, taking in the room around him to shake the memory of the vicious dream.

Reiki began throwing orders, leading the tall male to inwardly sigh, scooping up his pack and slipping on his boots, tying the laces tight. The steady weight gave him something to focus on as he trudged with the rest out of the barracks and towards the courtyards. The others were angry at Kwantu, and when Kol searched for the male, found that the smaller Myrian was not far from him. He looked ahead and focused on the steady beating of footsteps picking up as the fang began their morning jog.

His body resisted at first, not wanting to wholly wake up and sending a stitch into his side, but soon his footsteps were falling in line with the others. He forced himself faster, speeding up to the front of the group. regulated his breathing. The movement was beginning to bring him peace, a feeling that he could focus on, control. One foot forward. Then the other. With each step, he pushed off, propelling him forward. Again and again. The pain he felt with training his body was a physical one and didn't haunt his thoughts when he closed his mind. He liked this. He needed it.

The laps ended sooner than Kol was ready for, the soft, familiar burn of lactic acid in his legs radiating them, and his own panting fitting with many of his other fang mates. Kol was not very skilled in running, but found himself doing it a lot more since joining the military again. Very well. Once their bodies were prepared to Reiki's satisfaction, they were standing around getting reading for sparring. No doubt when their battering of each other would be complete, they could expect to do their patrols.

Kol skimmed the faces of his fang mates. Who would he be paired with, or better yet, who was willing to call him their partner?

---
Myrian
Common

[Kwantu]

Kwantu wasn't ready for the run. His muscles were slow and sluggish in waking - he swore he could hear rusty metal grinding with every step he made. The burn was more like fire in his lungs that made it difficult to breathe the longer he went, until he was sure he wouldn't be able to keep going. No, he wasn't really accustomed to running. Especially not so early in the morning without a proper chance to wake up, stretch, eat.. anything. At least he'd learned his lesson.. he wouldn't be twisting or turning in his hammock ever again. Right now, he felt like he could sleep on the floor and never notice the difference. At least moving his legs kept his eyelids from falling shut.. but then again, that was about the only upside to the exercise. The rest of his body felt like it was going to either crumble to dust or catch fire.

Once it was mercifully over, he found himself bent over double, both hands on his knees, gasping for air more than panting along with the other members of the fang. So loudly that he barely heard what Reiki was shouting next - and apparently somebody else didn't hear because an unseen elbow jabbed hard under his ribs and pulled him up straight to listen. "Alright. You all seem pretty awake now, so let's get ready for some early-morning combat training. We'll start with no weapons and move on to those of choice. Let's say, fifteen chimes. I want to see bruises too!" Suddenly there was even more shoving, and Kwantu groaned. Honestly.. how long could they torture him like this. Apparently a lot, since after several others had passed through with nary a glance, the only two left were himself and Kol. Oh... oh great.

For several awkward ticks, Kwantu just stood there. In all honestly, he was about ready to just hit the floor and fall asleep. He really could do that. But then Reiki was pretty much at his shoulder, shouting him back to part-way consciousness. "Well go on! What're you waiting for, hit him!" He couldn't tell who the female was yelling to - himself or Kol. Frankly, he couldn't care. He just wanted to lie down for five ticks, was that too much to ask.. perhaps if Kol hit him hard enough, the man could knock him straight back into unconsciousness. It was almost worth the damn pain. Please.. just let this end soon. Either way, he took a clumsy step forwards and lifted both fists. It wasn't even what one could call a stance.. more just standing there, legs spread pretty far apart, feet not facing forwards.. back not straight, chin down, eyes cast forwards and his elbows not even close to his chest. There were too many knots in his back to even contemplate changing, though.

"Guess we'd better get this over with.. huh Kol?" He tried to make a bit of a smile but it came out just plain awkward.. showing off too many teeth and not showing enough of an upward curl. It wasn't a snarl.. but it definitely wasn't a smile either, and in the end he just cringed and prepared for the worst that Kol could, and likely would bring down upon him. Be gentle, be gentle, be gentle...

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

[Kol]

And so they were paired up. The faintest smirk arose on Kol's lips, and he shook his head slowly. It wasn't that Kol disliked Kwantu, he just had a bit of a... distaste for the shorter male that had somewhat faded since their time with the Yukmen. In the Myrian's defense, Kol wasn't much of a people person in the first place, and so warming up to others just was not a likely occurrence but he wasn't one to hold grudges for those who had not directly wronged him. Strolling towards his fang mate, Kol rolled his shoulders and began to stretch. Part of it was for proper training, another to buy him time so he could catch his breath from the run. He bent at the waist, curving his back and reaching towards his toes. His fingers skinned the tops of his boots and he felt the stretching of his muscles. He slowly exhaled, straightening slowly and began to stretch his arms. If Kwantu had not already gotten the hint, Kol nodded for him to do the same. It was only a brief trial of flexibility and soon dark eyes flashed. Time to fight.

Ready?

Kol wasn't one to go easy in a fight, but they were training, not out for a kill. He lifted his arms, his fists loose and ready to harden at impact when he no doubt would strike. He sidestepped, eyes taking in the stance and openings of his opponent. Where did he have the upper advantage?

My reach is longer. He mentally made a checklist. Kwantu was likely faster, but Kol had more weight to throw around. But how often did the other do hand to hand? Unsure, Kol decided to test the waters to see how skittish Kwantu could or would be. Or how resolved in times of danger. He had gotten a glimpse of that when they had traversed into the jungle after the Mengentai warrior and he believed Kwantu to be nervous, but tactical. If that was the case, he could perhaps use that to his advantage. How fast could he plan when punches were being thrown?

Throwing his fist in a lightening strike, Kol jumped forward, keeping light on his feet. Before the punch could connect, he pulled back, gauging the male's reaction. Kol smirked at his attempted fake out, not waiting to throw the next hit with his other arm. Would Kwantu see through his test, recover in time to dodge, or get hit?
---
Myrian
Common

[Kwantu]

Apparently the other Myrian had better ideas - he just began stretching. To be honest, though, it seemed like a better idea than what he had - so he soon began to stretch as well. All of his body felt like it needed a bit of it; most importantly his back. With all the heavy scarring that ran across it, he was surprised that he'd never managed to get infections along those damn things.. but at least it only left him with one other problem - the pulling. Even stretching pulled on so many scars, he felt like some of the puckered things were going to tear. Still, he tried it - reaching over with both hands reaching down to try and touch his toes. At first, it was pretty painful.. but then his spine popped and it felt a little more relaxing. That's just what I needed.. He'd need to remember to thank Kol once this was all over. Mostly stretches just involved his arms and legs, but his spine was always the worst.

After that, there was a bit more stretching to do in his arms and legs - pulling and testing the joints, making sure that he was limber and prepared for the combat. At least, more than he'd been when he was thrown out of bed suddenly. It was working, it'd give him that - although perhaps not enough. There was enough soreness in his arms and legs left over from the rough night of sleep that he had to really push them to their limits in order to get some rel movement that wasn't tugging painfully at some muscle or tendon deep inside. Shurak. This was their fault - whoever had the brilliant idea to give them all cheap hammocks that weren't fit for Dhani. He was so engrossed in the damn ache that he didn't really pay attention to anything else - and likely he should have, because although he was staring straight at Kol, his mind wasn't inside his body.

He barely noticed one strike before it was being thrown straight at his face, and he barely had enough time to take a step back before it'd likely connect. Only.. it didn't even try. Is this guy trying to play mind-games with me... shurak, it's too early. He wasn't even really ready for a sparring session and now he was being played like a damn idiot. He may have had his differences with Kol but it wasn't too hard to put them aside for the good of the survival of the fang. Now he was just getting annoyed.

When the next blow came, he wasn't stupid enough to not move out of the way in case it was another fake. However, he did it with a little more control - hopping to the side, before returning a heavy-handed blow of his own right for Kol's chest. He'd earned it by now. "How about you wait a little next time. I swear if I wasn't on your damn fang, I would have taken the butt of a spear to you." He waited until Reiki was out of ear-shot for that particular threat - and either way, it was mumbled through gritted teeth. He wasn't pleased, not in the slightest.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

[Kol]

Recovery.

So Kwauntu wasn't hopeless. Perhaps this could be an interesting fight after all. Kol shrugged at the threat, unconcerned. His fake out hadn't been done out of distaste, simply to test the waters in the fight. Now that he knew what to expect, he didn't care whether or not he angered the male. In fact, Kol's hazel eyes scanned towards Reiki, taking note that Kwantu had mumbled the words so that their leader would not hear. Kol had survived a pack of Akila hounds, the strangling of Yukmen, the wrath of more than one opponent in the wrestling ring... He didn't fear a stick.

He was going to make this a spar. His "games" were done. It was time to work. Keeping his hands up to prevent any swing from doing too much damage to his face, Kol took a deep inhale and his eyes darkened. Here we go.

Kol had a good height on the male, being a freak of nature for his race's gender. The height meant a longer reach. To do damage, Kwantu would have to get close -- an idea that could become quickly dangerous. Would he take the risk?

A punch soared through the air, the Myrian's fist craving contact. He threw another, bracing himself for the pain that would shoot in his knuckles if the blows managed to hit. Kol jumped back after the attack, bouncing on his toes and smirking. Hit or miss, the male usually enjoyed a fight and this was no different. He rolled his shoulders, feeling a faint buzz of familiarity and excitement in his actions. There was just something unique about battering each other, wasn't there?
---
Myrian
Common

[Kwantu]

Throughout it all, even when left against an opponent with nothing but his hands to put to use, he could only think about his spear. If I had my spear handy, I could use it against that damn range that he has. There was little point even trying to get in close - heck, it already seemed like there was little point in trying against the man. He was fast, he was smart - he was everything that Kwantu wasn't personified. As they stood there, facing one-another and making little movement, expecting the other to try for the first blow, the grunts of the field roared around them as various fighters took to their combat eagerly. Some had abandoned fists in favour of grappling each-other to try and draw them to the ground - others were making rather complex actions with their wrists and elbows, throwing everything against the other person in the hopes of landing enough blows before the other could retaliate.

All too soon for Kwantu, they were joining in. A punch was flung straight for his chest and he didn't even think about what to do, there wasn't any time. His right arm rose to try and absorb at least some of the damage with his forearm, and it worked, just about. There was a stinging in the arm but it was better than getting the benefit of a full-on punch right in the ribcage. Unfortunately he'd raised his hopes too high too soon - a second punch came and landed right on the sternum, nearly causing Kwantu to double-over as the wind was knocked from his lungs. "Oof.." He shouldn't be showing signs of weakness, of pain, but he was. It damn hurt. At least it hadn't been further down. Still, Kol had already proven that he was going to be a tough enemy and Kwantu had a long way to go before he'd likely be able to inflict the same amount of damage that he'd just received.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to try. With the distance set between them, Kwantu waited several ticks to catch his breath before lurching forwards on slightly unsteady feet, launching a hard punch straight for the mans stomach. He didn't really have any ideas for a follow-up attack but he could come up with something as they went on, surely. All he really wanted for the moment was a bit of near-sighted revenge.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

[Una Tanta]

Kol :

Experience
Unarmed Combat +2

Lore
Fighting: Assessing an Opponent

Kwantu :

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