A Blade's Edge from Death(Solaris)

[Alderache]

Timestamp: Winter 47, 511 AV Time: Early morning Location: Outside the city Who: Solaris Alseroth was running through the snow, his breath coming out in short gasps producing small clouds. He looked back over his shoulder and saw seven heat signatures high in the sky, pursuing him. He cursed himself for not being more careful. There wasn't much cover out here, and he didn't know the area real well. He continued his fleeing sprint, and leapt over a log. He hit a small patch of ice on the other side and slipped and fell face first into the snow. Thankfully his combat training was in full swing, so he kept the momentum going by rolling, keeping his Lakan out away from his body. He was able to struggle upwards while still moving, and began running again. But the damage was done. He'd twisted his ankle just a little too much on the ice. He wasn't able to run as hard now. He'd have to find a defensible location. He pumped his arms harder, his breathing growing more ragged now. He continued down a rocky slope, skidding and slipping over the shale like rocks. He looked back over his shoulder and saw a large Zith swooping down at him, claws ready. Alseroth lurched his body forward, shoulder first. Due to the downhill slope, this caused him to do a midair somersault. While turning over, Alseroth blindly slashed behind him. He felt Shivara bite into flesh, followed by a loud Zith scream. Then he landed. And it was far from graceful nor soft in the least. His back struck the rocky slope hard, several stones jabbing and slashing his back. He bounced and rolled down the slope, quite a painful feat. He finally skidded to a stop atop a large rocky outcropping. He looked up the slope and saw all seven Zith flying downward. Alseroth quickly got to his feet, and assumed a combat stance, his Lakan reversed for better slashing. He felt a shaking, thinking it was just nerves. Then the entire outcropping shifted. He crouched low in an attempt to maintain balance. The rock shifted further, and began to slide. Alseroth fell on to his backside, his eyes widening in surprise. The rock started sliding down the hill, Alseroth struggling to maintain what little balance may have been left. The Zith began spreading out and swarming the sky to spread out, so as to better attack where ever he ended. The rock was near the bottom of the slope, Alseroth looking backwards, saw that there was a fallen tree in the path. He rolled over onto his stomach, the rock shaking and jolting. He got a hand beneath him, and his feet finding grip. Just as the rock struck the tree, he leapt off the rock, with more momentum than expected. He hit the ground, spikes of pain as he rolled into a clearing, between a small grove of trees. He saw that the Zith were out of sight, which scared him more than if he'd seen them. He quickly looked around and realized he was in some sort of camp, but didn't immediately see anyone. A screech in the distance told him the Zith would be returning very soon.

[Solaris]

Shadekas had said that Sol could leave the house whenever he wanted.

It was tough at first. He was always half-convinced (and still is) that the monk actually meant he would be restricted to, say, a five male radius. Or that he simply imagined that part of the conversation entirely.

But that morning he slid out of bed early enough that dawn was only beginning to break and the hardworking monk was still asleep beside him. He could be dead silent whenever he chose- cats did have a knack for such an ability, after all- but just in case the older man had been intoxicated when he granted him such a freedom (unlikely) or that the shock he was dealt from being dropped into an entirely new environment (and a decidedly much healthier one at that), he didn't bother with tiptoeing around. He bumped into the chair, knocked over a book, and made sure the door squeaked on his way out.

Shadekas hadn't stirred. Out of guilt, Sol hastily scribbled down a scanty note (he still for the life of him couldn't remember what it was, but he was fairly certain it had the word 'sorry' in there at least three times. Shadekas liked apologies).

Upon passing the gates encompassing the compound, he was filled with a sense of loss.

What in the world was he going to do now?

Snow crunched beneath his boots (new, he might add. Shadekas liked to keep him well-dressed) as he trudged through the city. There were plenty of crowds to get himself lost in, the usual amount of almost-too-many noises to sift through, and enough glittering jewels for him to feast his eyes upon for hours.

And for some reason, he was considerably less than entertained.

It was, dare he say it, boring. These were all places and sounds and sights he'd seen before. And with Shadekas. Right now the man was either tucked into bed or down in his workshop and for a moment Sol contemplates returning to him, going about his day as he usually would. But being the finnicky feline Kelvic he was, he quickly abandoned the idea and decided that if the town was boring him, then why not leave it?

Sol didn't want to go too far. Shadekas was teaching him a lot, especially in the art of hand-to-hand combat as well as how to wield the small dagger strapped to his side, and he'd improved greatly over the past few months, but it wasn't enough. He might be flighty but he wasn't entirely foolish, and frankly, he'd grown used to having the monk by his side. It tended to intimidate strangers away.

He satisfied himself by venturing out into the woods on the outskirts of town. There was much more snow here, less of the dirty, gray muck surrounding Nyka's shops and more that was pure and white and so lovely that he couldn't help but romp into it, rolling onto his back and letting handfuls melt on his tongue.

He passed the time by climbing trees, collecting dead branches, batting at dry, stray leaves and finding fascination in drawing pictures in the snow. It was growing late. His first instinct was to return home.

...but what if he didn't?

As he peered curiously into the barren twigs of an abandoned bird's nest, Sol began to wonder. What if he never came back home at all? Would Shadekas come looking for him? Or assume he had made the conscious decision to leave?

He snorted. The monk would probably come after him. With a pack of dogs.

Almost absentmindedly- but not too much so; he had a vague notion of what he was doing- he strayed off the path. Pristine, pillowy snowbanks caught his eye, and he leaped from one to the next, and when that too began to bore him, decided to chase a stray sparrow that chirped and whistled excessively when he tried to pounce.

Night was well on its way when Sol found an abandoned camp. The bird was perched above him on a bare, sickly-looking tree. His first isntinct was to morph back into a cat, but if he wanted to turn back into a human, he'd have lost his clothes and it would be uncomfortably cold and a pain to put them back on. So he decides he can scale the tree very well on his own. The lack of claws was a setback, but he was making good ground, the dumb bird twittering and hopping upon the strange branch and cocking its head at him curiously and oh yes, it was feathers and bones and he wasn't planning on eating it, just catching it, no there wasn't a real reason save for he simply wanted to-

Screeches sounded through the air, and a huge, strange-looking man seemingly fell from the sky.

Sol let out a wide-eyed hiss and scrambled up the tree. What the hell was that? It certainly wasn't human; even if he were blind he would have been able to sense that much. It was odd, really, the aura that thing gave off. Like he was really seeing two men instead of one.

More screeches. Sol's hair stood on end, and the bird was long forgotten.

Much more powerful than his curiosity was his distinct sense of fear. The next tree was too far to leap to, which meant he'd have to come down if he wanted to run. And he had a gut feeling that the huge humanoid thing could easily overtake him.

Had it- he?- noticed him, though? Sol instinctively back as far away as he could, pressing against the rough bark of the tree's trunk. Maybe if he held his breath and stayed very, very still...

[Alderache]

Alseroth pulled himself off the shale filled ground, he stood up, favoring his left leg, for his right ankle was injured. He didn't have to see the attacking Ziths to know that he was surrounded, that's just how those beasts worked. He scanned the area, looking for points of attack. But there were so many, the trees weren't as much cover as he'd hoped. If anything, it helped the Zith out, hiding their initial approaches. He switched his Lakan to his left hand, and held it in a reverse grip, preferring the slashing over the stabbing approach. The screeches filled the air around the abandoned camp. Where were they? Why hadn't any attacked yet? With his right hand, he tapped the damned gift on the back of his neck. He hated having to use it, but one does not simply keep a powerful weapon locked away. Alseroth hadn't noticed the cat perched on a branch in a nearby tree. But someone else had. A Zith alighted on the end of the branch, staring at the feline. It had deep red, short fur. It kept its wings open and on display. It's claws were out and apparent, ready to strike. It was hungry, and the cat would make a fine appetizer. What Alseroth did notice was a Zith swooping down toward him from the right. He waited until right before contact, keeping a close eye on those deadly claws. This one was a bluish grey color. It slashed at Alseroth with its right claw, but found empty air. Alseroth had dropped onto his back, tightened his ab muscles, and in a rocking motion, kicked upward with both feet. His heels contacted the sternum of the beast, send it off its intended flight pattern. He continued the up and back motion, pushing at the ground so as to not break his neck while rolling back. This motion allowed him to fall backward onto his feet, but he overjudged it. He hopped backwards, off balance. The Zith he'd kicked crashed into the ground a few yards away. It wasn't dead, but the blow had stunned it severely. Alseroth rushed over to it before it could recover. He knelt on its back, keeping it pinned against the ground. He couldn't relish the kill as he would've liked, so he settled for grabbing it by its scalp, and pulling it upward. The Zith screamed, flapping and kicking as it tried to buck him off. A quick slice across the throat silenced and stilled the beast. There were still six more Zith out there, somewhere. Alseroth rose, looking around, preparing for another attack. They would be angrier now that one of their own lay dead.