Solo Lion Heart

[Colt]

His wet boot squelched uncomfortable as he made his way to Snow. I’m loud.

Yes, agreement, can hear you, alright.

What happen?

Snow sent him a picture of what was happening to her: a goose, black and brown was on the shore, and she had placed herself between it and the water with the intention of killing it. The goose was becoming aggressive and was flapping its wings, although the tree cover was too dense for it to fly with any hope of reaching open air before Snow caught it. But the goose was not going down without a fight; as Shahar approached, he could hear the challenging honks and screeches of the goose daring Snow to come at it.

Goose bites.

Well, yes, goose do. Shahar had been on the receiving end of more than one angry pinch of a beak, and that was why he didn’t often hunt geese. But it was a goose Snow wanted, and this goose in particular.

What need?

Distraction.

Of course. Shahar sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

I distract turkey, you distract goose.

Yes, she had a point, and Shahar returned with a grudging agreement; he would serve as her distraction, although he wouldn’t like it.

Shahar drew a javelin just to be sure, making no attempt to hide his movements when he rounded the tree and took in the scene of the goose and the wolf that barred it from the water.

“Hey!” Shahar shouted at the goose, twirling his javelin. “Shove off, bird!”

The goose swiveled its head to regard Shahar, honking indignantly and shifting its entire body to face him. No, not just to face him; the goose was moving, spreading its wings, running. Shahar backpedaled, bringing his javelin into a defensive gross-guard. Snow!

Snow was already on the move, half-running, half crouching. With its attention on Shahar, the goose was entirely unaware of her path until she sprang forward, took the goose by a wing and swung it in a distressed, noisy circle. The goose didn’t die from having its wing torn into, and moved to bite Snow on the nose. Snow stopped it from doing such a thing by rising onto her hind legs, snapping the goose above her like a whip, then slamming it onto the ground as hard as she could. The goose was stunned, and Snow could dart forward to take it by the neck. With her death-grip obtained, there was no need to prolong the goose’s suffering, and she knew it––Snow chomped down and jerked to the side, severing the throat and snapping the spine, ending the goose’s life in a single movement. She adjusted her grip to the base of the neck, which was small enough for her to comfortably hold and close enough to the rest of the body to keep it from dragging on the ground when she picked it up; her pride and contentment radiated from her like light, light on the inside. Her ears were forward and her tail flicked back and forth happily; two kills in one day would put her in a fine mood for days to come.

Shahar looked up, once again checking Syna’s path.

Depart soon, he said. Me, tasks first, then go.

More hunt me?

He shrugged. Try, nice if succeed, but little time; cattails, wood, then go home.

Snow acknowledged the information. Tell when, you goose carry.

Will tell. Shahar took the bird from her mouth and draped it over one shoulder. No worries, good day, good hunt.

Agreement, Snow said, before giving the other birds a final look and turning to disappear into the trees.

[Colt]

Shahar returned to finish weaving his cattails together, setting the goose at his knee where he could dissuade any wayward scavengers from investigating. It was well within sight, even when focused on his cattails, and any movements towards it could be spotted from his periphery. He was not concerned about missing dangers, and moved to finish up his not-quite-weaving.

One blade over another. Hardened from the weather, but not quite as brittle as they would be in winter, they made for basic if unsightly braiding material. Not that what he was doing could properly be called braiding; there was little rhyme or reason to which ones he chose to move next, save for the fact that they were available and long enough. In the end, it looked more like a knotted mess than anything else, but that was alright; he just needed it to hold together until he got home, and then he could cut them apart and away. They only needed the roots and bottoms of the stalks, anyway.

With that finished, Shahar stood to begin his last task of the day: firewood. He didn’t want a great deal, as Akaidras already had a few things to carry, but it wouldn’t be unwise to bring home just a few chunks. There was more than one fallen tree in the forest, and a few minutes walk brought him to one near the site of the turkey’s death. If the plants around it and the disturbance of the earth were anything to go by, the tree had fallen sometime in spring. Animal tracks crossed over and around it, unconcerned, but there wasn’t the thick plant growth covering the bark that would suggest more than a year of existence.

Shahar rapped a knuckle against the trunk. It was echoing and light; not hollow, but… dry. At least, drier than the other, living trees.

Shahar set down the goose and the knot of cattails and hefted his axe. He couldn’t take the entire tree home with him, but he could get a few good shards out of it, and that was all he needed. He angled the axe sharply against the line of the trunk, aiming to shave off long strips rather than actually chop into it.

The first strike brought off a hefty line of bark, which Shahar tossed away in favor of the pale wood beneath. Another strike, and more bark, along with a thin strip of wood. The interior of the tree had been exposed enough to begin going after the wood properly, which was––

––Shahar cried out and dropped his axe beneath a sudden, crippling wave of fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Snow!

Shahar come danger danger quick need fear defend!

He grabbed his axe half-consciously and stumbled towards the inside-scream. Snow was with Akaidras, and was flashing him images––dark fur, death-smell, yellow eyes, slitted pupils. It was confused and tangled, but one thing was abundantly clear.

Snow and Akaidras were in danger.

[Colt]

Shahar burst from the trees with his axe in one hand and a javelin in the other. Akaidras was pressed against the sheer wall of the crater, too threatened to even begin navigating his way up. He was instead standing his ground, head lowered, striking the earth with one hoof. Snow stood beside him, hackles standing on end and tail raised in aggression, her face pulled into a tight snarl.

And around the perimeter of their defense padded a nightlion.

He was male, young, a season shy of his prime––driven away from his natal pride by his sire, and nearly ready to begin conquesting a pride of his own. His mane was thick, his hide sleek; the trials of adolescence had made him lean, and overcoming those trials had made him aggressive. Even without the strength of a pride behind him, or perhaps especially because of it, the lion was eager to prove his strength. He had scented the blood of the turkey and come to investigate, braving even the crater walls to uncover the corpse.

The corpse strapped to Akaidras’ yvas.

Although he may have been confident in his pursuit of the horse, the sudden appearance of Snow had given him pause; she was no lion, but that did not mean she was weak. He may have been larger than her, but it wasn’t by more than a half-foot; Snow was massive by the standards of wolves, and she was entirely ready to defend her horse pack-mate.

She was making him uncertain.

Snow’s relief pierced their worried haze at the sight of Shahar, clearing both of their heads. The Drykas quickly took stock of the situation: Akaidras, Snow, cornered, ready to defend themselves, night lion, male, practically adult, looking for the blood. The night lion had noticed him, and paused in its pacing to regard the two-legged addition to the company. It wanted the turkey, but this human was alone and unhorsed, while the turkey was defended by two cornered animals.

Shahar could almost see the thoughts turning behind the lion’s eyes as it took a step towards him, deciding that this human might be better and safer game––and upon seeing that step, Snow leaped into action.

She barked for attention and broke out of the defensive, launching herself towards the dark feline. The lion turned, belting out in surprise and reaching out to swipe at her. Snow, realizing she couldn’t actually move into the lion’s space, slowed and altered course; the strike landed light, but it still landed. The lion scored three red lines in Snow’s shoulder before she managed to move out of reach.

By that time, Shahar was already moving, coiling, bringing the javelin to his shoulder and setting it free into the air. The shot was quick, poor and decidedly non-fatal, but there was the advantage of space––the lion was close enough to make aiming easy, and large enough that a missed shot was still entirely likely to land somewhere on its body.

For land the javelin did, sliding smoothly into the muscles of the lion’s side. The lion roared––a huge, encompassing sound that seemed to shake the very air––and turned its attention back to Shahar.

If it was a fight the lion wanted, then a fight was what it would have.

[Colt]

Snow circled, barking loudly and doing her best to confuse the lion with noise. While it didn’t exactly confuse it, it did have the effect of preventing the lion from immediately coming after Shahar; Snow’s barking forced the lion to remain aware of both of them at the same time.

It gave Shahar enough time to draw another javelin, at least, as well as communicate with Snow; keep doing that, both distract, both fight.

The lion was swerving, inclined to focus on Shahar but unwilling to let Snow get the better of him. Shahar tensed and hefted his javelin.

Me him attention, he said. Lion towards me, let him. Focus me, not focus you, get in there; side-wound-javelin, weak spot, use it, let him towards me.

Distress, plan, not like this––

Snow, let him!

Snow stopped her barking and backed off, and the lion immediately returned to put the remainder of its attention on Shahar. It came at him, somewhat slowed by the spear in its side.

Now!

Snow began to run, coming up from behind to lion to muscle her way into its space just as it prepared to leap onto her Drykas. The lion coiled for the jump and had no guard against her, allowing the she-wolf to dart to his side and take the javelin in her teeth, pushing it deeper into him with every ounce of strength she had in her.

The lion bellowed in pain and spilled off its feet. Snow danced away, leaving the spear half-buried in the lion’s ribs; from the amount of organs that resided there, the wound was almost certainly a fatal one. The things there were too important, too soft to survive the onslaught of a spearhead. Given an hour or so, the lion would bleed out and die.

But they didn’t have an hour or so; the lion was still strong now, hauling itself to its paws and summoning up its remaining power for another go. A lion was no deer or antelope, to run while its death came upon it from the inside; whether or not the lion was aware of its fate beyond the immediate pain, it was going to keep fighting until there was no more breath left in its body.

The lion was weakened by its injury and unsteady on its feet as it turned to roar after the retreating Snow. It tried to run after her, but her clawed shoulder was nothing in comparison to the wooden shaft in her opponent’s body. She evaded the clumsy claws and unsteady limp, circling around to return to Shahar’s side. There, she returned to the defensive, head low, tail raised, fur standing on end. The fight had completely erased her fear and replaced it with adrenaline; in the single step the lion had first taken towards him, Snow had faced the fact that, if necessary, she would willingly lay down her life for her partner without hesitation.

If the lion sought to kill Shahar before its own death, it would have to kill her first.

[Colt]

The lion, mad with pain or anger or some combination of both, wheeled to charge at the two of them. The man and wolf readied themselves, weapons and fangs at the ready.

But the lion never reached them. Instead, it found itself on the receiving end of an enraged hind kick from Akaidras. With the entire group there, the stallion was not going to let himself be left out; he wanted to let the lion know exactly what he thought of the fight.

The lion was knocked off its feet by the unexpected blow, and tried to retaliate, but the entirely uninjured Akaidras vacated the lion’s range before any strikes could land. With his contribution to the fight added, the strider moved to join Snow and Shahar.

The sight of all three of them standing together made the lion realize that it was not going to win.

As if suddenly tired, the beast let its lips fall over its teeth until there was only the vestiges of a snarl left. It lay itself halfway down, hindquarters dropping to the ground while forequarters remained upright. It was not quite rest, nor submission, but it was still an announcement of awareness; the lion knew its fate, and it would not run from it.

Snow perked her ears forward, although she did not drop her guard. Curiosity, what doing is?

Dying.

The trio watched the lion watch them, daring them to come closer.

Pain, Snow observed.

Yes.

We… we end it?

Desire, you want?

Snow let her tail drop, uncertain. Great pain, will die, we die it quickly, end pain.

Shahar glanced to his companion, intrigued by her request; he would have suggested it in the coming minutes as the lion continued to fade, not one to watch revel in another’s extended pain, but she had come to the same conclusion on her own. A moment of contemplation, and he realized that her decision made him proud. Yes. End.

[Colt]

Snow circled one side, Shahar the other.

The lion returned to his snarl, baring his teeth and swiveling his head, uncertain of which one to guard against.

How end?

Shahar looked at his javelin. Chest or throat, best.

Chest throat claws guard.

Yes. That was a puzzle.

I go.

Inquiry?

I go, distract, make move, open chest throat you spear kill end. She wanted to go in, open up the lion’s guard and expose its vulnerabilities.

Shahar was uncertain, dangerous.

Snow practically snorted. Lion. Lions dangerous, yes.

Shahar sighed and acquiesced, but careful.

I know. If Snow could have rolled her eyes, she almost certainly would have.

Love.

Love.

Snow made her careful way into the lion’s space. It growled and lunged at her with one paw before she was even within range.

Shahar quietly came at it from the other side.

The lion snapped its teeth and flicked its tail, trying and failing to rise onto all four feet. When it slouched heavily back onto the ground, Snow slid into motion, darting around its range and climbing onto its back to latch her jaws onto… well, its mane was too thick for her to get anywhere near the neck, but she managed a tight grip on what fur she could find.

The lion roared and bucked as best it was able, which didn’t amount to much; it wasn’t at all difficult for Snow to weather the attempts to throw her off, and to retaliate. She threw her weight back, pulling the lion’s head up and towards her, over its back, leaving its chest wide open.

Now!

Shahar needed no further prompting. He ran to join her, spear raised; Snow twisted her head, like she did when playing tug-of-war, tripping the lion into pitching sideways. More than enough of an opening for Shahar to drive the point of his javelin through the lion’s throat and into the softness of its chest.

[Colt]

The lion let out a cry. Not a roar; the sound was far too weak for that. It was a final cry of denial, one that faded into wet coughs and gurgles before the lion dropped its head, unable to hold the weight of its mane, and then finally set itself on the ground as the last of its life spilled onto the dirt beneath.

Snow remained on the animal’s back, panting heavy, almost uncomprehending of what they had just done, and of the fact that it was over.

Dead, she murmured. Ended.

Ended, Shahar replied. Done.

Snow made her way back to the ground, but tripped over herself; with the threat suddenly over, her limbs began to shake with the shock of what had happened. She knew that they had won, and she knew that they were safe––but her body didn’t quite believe it yet.

Shahar dropped to the ground and opened his arms. Snow dragged herself into his embrace, falling down and allowing him to bear the full brunt of her weight. It pitched them both onto his back, Snow on his chest, but neither of them minded. She wasn’t terrified, but she wasn’t alright, either.

I know, he said, stroking her head and resting her chin on his shoulder. It’s over.

It took a while for Snow to stop shaking, the after-effects of the adrenaline eventually tapering off into a vague lightheadedness. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them needed to. When Snow was ready, she got her feet back under her and stood, nuzzling Shahar’s neck for security; she had never fought back against a creature determined to destroy her. It was new, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. Shahar waited to see if she had anything to request, and when she didn’t, he stood up as well.

Snow pressed herself to his side as they both regarded the dead lion; with the immediate danger slain and her blood no longer rushing, she could now feel the aching pain of where the lion had clawed her. Once they returned, Shahar would have her seen to, but for now there was nothing he could do except be there. For another long, silent moment, they just looked at their slain enemy, marveling in the fact that it was dead and they were not.

Not carrying it, Snow said suddenly.

Shahar laughed, putting a hand on her neck. Agreed.

But that did drive home the point that there was a dead nightlion to deal with now, and that they couldn’t very well just leave it. The had to bring it back to Endrykas, and Akaidras was almost certainly not going to be happy about carrying the beast.

Snow.

Shahar.

Well done.

I know.

[Colt]

Snow and Shahar separated in the wake of the lion’s demise; Shahar told the she-wolf where it was he had been chopping wood and left the goose, and she darted off to retrieve it before any scavengers had their way.

Shahar was then left with the nightlion, and with the task of calming down a still-riled Akaidras. The stallion snorted when Shahar came near, quite prepared for their enemy to spring back to life and attack them––he was still ready for a fight.

“Akaidras.” Friend, brother, family. Shahar placed a hand on the stallion’s shoulder, who tossed his head and took a few idle steps before having the mind to stand still. “Shh. Akaidras.” Calm, gentle, safety, security, home, love, family. Gentle signs with gentle hands and fingers eventually managed to stop Akaidras’ nervous fidgeting, and he cautiously moved forward to sniff at the cooling corpse.

It was at that moment that Tuka deigned to join them, a squirrel clamped firmly in her jaws.

Shahar stared. What, where have you been? Tuka regarded him blankly, then padded over and deposited the squirrel at his feet. He stared some more until she tilted her head and bumped his leg in demand for recognition. He gave her a dumb pat on the head.

Akaidras, in the meantime, had proved to himself that the nightlion was, indeed, quite dead, and raised his head to let his rider know so.

Good. That would make moving the lion easier.

Shahar returned to his horse’s side and asked him to lay down, something Akaidras did not like to do but was often coaxed into doing, anyway, particularly when Drelah did not accompany them to carry home their bounty.

This time, however, Akaidras held no qualms about laying himself down; if anything, he seemed almost proud of himself when Shahar began the arduous task of hauling the lion onto the space just behind the yvas. The turkey––the thing that had caused this whole mess––got in the way, and Shahar eventually removed it entirely. Once the lion was on he could figure out the turkey.

Shahar tied the lion’s front and back paws together, then secured each pair to one side of the yvas. Another length was wrapped around the stomach and tied to the pad itself; the lion only took up half the yvas that way, and there would be enough room for Shahar to ride, albeit somewhat awkwardly. He was just finishing when Snow announced her return, carrying the goose––as well as Shahar’s knot of cattails.

Cattails what is, purpose? she asked, dropping the things next to her partner.

Two-leg food.

Strange. She sat back on her haunches to watch him complete the tying, then moved when he asked Akaidras to stand. The stallion hefted the weight of the lion and took an extra moment to get his balance, but did not buck it off. The lion stayed on. Shahar picked up the turkey and goose––and at Tuka’s offended glare, the squirrel as well––and wrangled himself onto his strider’s back. Sharing space with the kills was not at all easy, and it took more time than he would have liked to get himself situated, but he eventually managed it in spite of the difficulty and settled into a seat that would allow him to guide Akaidras’ movements.

Ready?

Ready. Let’s go home.

He couldn’t wait to show Naiya.

- End -

grading infoNight lion meat will be sold. Goose will be sold. Turkey tail feathers will be sold.

Turkey meat will be retained. Night lion pelt, claws and teeth will be retained; 19gm 6sm have been deducted from ledger to pay for excellent quality tanning.

[Keene Ward]

Grades

EDIT: I messed upon the prices for the animal meat so hard! It's been corrected and bolded for your viewing pleasure, I apologize!

Shahar

Skills

Webbing +1
Land Navigation +2
Wilderness Survival +2
Animal Husbandry +5
Trapping +1
Planning +3
Grooming +1
Meditation +1
Horsemanship +1
Riding: Horse +1
Socialization +2
Intelligence +2
Hunting +3
Tactics +5
Stealth +1
Acrobatics +1
Weapon: Javelin +4
Tracking +1
Philosophy +2
Logic +1
Herbalism +1
Weaving +2
Running +1

Lores

Hunting Tactics: Canine Partner
Storytelling: Nightlion Hunt
Endrykas Locations: The Fertile Crater

Rewards/Consequences
+ 10 whole cattails (good condition)
+ 17 lbs turkey (no tail feathers)
+ 9 1/4 lbs groundhog
+ 1 lbs squirrel
+ Excellent Nightlion Pelt
+ 4 Nightlion claws
+ 11 incisors, 4 canines, 9 premolars and 4 molars of Nightlion teeth
+ 120 GM for 160 lbs of Nightlion meat
+ 2 SM 5 CM for turkey feathers
+ 1 GM 2 SM 5 CM for 10 lbs goose
- Minor scratches on Snow's shoulder; will heal in four days without medical attention, two with


Notes
Well! That was a beautifully written solo. Very nice work! I don't really get into Endrykas very much, but I'm glad to see that the veterans here aren't just longstanding. ;) I did notice that Shahar talks quite a bit with his ivaski. As far as I was aware, the telepathic connection is more of a sharing of emotion and sometimes visual images. I'm not 100% on this, but I might suggest double checking with Tribal, just because it seems a bit odd. Otherwise, well done!

If you have any questions or concerns, please send me a PM!