Flashback In The Deep Darkness

[Razkar]

60th Day of Spring, 512AV
15th Bell

Walls could be repaired. Wounds could be closed, bones set and healing begun. Even men and women could be replaced, given time and application. But the shock and scars on ones mind? They took much longer to heal... if they ever did.

Walking the streets of Taloba, straight and grid-like, leading to the center of the city, Razkar could feel that aching pall of shock still clinging to the stone and the inhabitants. Weeks had passed since the Djed Storm had ripped across the continent like the wrath of the next world. Chaos and death had followed in its wake, and the young male had seen much of it.

He had seen his fellow Myrians stagger and scream, blinded forever by the power of the rippling, turgid skies.

He had quavered like a child as dozens of Tskanna had roared in agony, rampaging throughout orderly Taloba like a tide of outraged flesh, crushing all in their path from stone and wood to flesh and bones.

He had seen the Jungle surrounding the city seem to gain a mind of its own, grow and spread like a green ooze, obliterating the clearing beyond Taloba's walls and reclaiming trails and spawning poisons the likes of which even Myri had not seen before.

He had arrived at the Blockade of Zinrah, or what was left of it. A series of fortifications and fangs that had stood solid for two hundred years, but when the army of Taloba had arrived to relieve the suddenly-silent sentries of Zinrah... nothing. Nothing but clothes without owners, weapons without the hands to hold them... five hundred of his people, fine warriors all, just... gone.

The fang of Rehkuna marched through the subdued streets, eyes fixed forwards. Like Razkar, many of them were young warriors, still undergoing their mandatory service with the army. Also like him, their eyes had aged beyond youth. Horror had hardened them, and now they looked more like their battle-scarred Fang Leader.

"Where do we go next, do you think?"

Razkar didn't shrug; he considered his answer to Erama. Few words had been spoken since they had begun their march back from the re-established barricade, along with hundreds of others in the army of Taloba. A thousand males and females had marched forth from Taloba, hacking through a newly-dominant Jungle and finding... nothing. Discarded weapons and clothes, bloodstains and fragments of terrified, hiding halfbreeds.

Like Tinnok. Like Aya. He closed his eyes again at the memory, squeezing them shut as if to dispel them. It didn't work.

"Wherever we are sent," he said simply, as they arrived at the Barracks. He could tell from the noise inside that several other fangs were inside, probably the ones that he preceded them. Rehkuna's had been among the last to return from the barricade of Zinrah, leaving several hundred Myrians to guard it once again. "Like any soldiers."

"I thought we were warriors?"

Razkar clenched his jaw, and Erama could see he was in no mood to be baited today. Her eyes flicked to Oxil, who just shrugged, battered war club over his shoulder. Her serious little male, as she called her friend, had been shaken by what had happened, what they had seen.

She sighed softly. She wished he'd think less. It would be easier for him.

"I just want us to be kept busy. Lots to do."

Razkar just grunted his agreement. Oh, yes... lots. But how much was warrior's work? Could you wage war on a jungle? On poisons? On terrified Tskanna or your own blinded, wounded people? Blades and brawn did not heal such wounds. He felt useless...

The male gritted his teeth in simmering anger as they passed into the main parade square.

He wanted an enemy. He wanted something to take his rage on that he knew would fight and die, and he would be the one to kill it.

Razkar would get his wish, and should have learned the phrase about being careful about such things.

[Tinnok]

She was nearly done, and the time dragged on like heavy boulders being dragged by an infant Tskanna. Thirty more days and her mandatory service in the Taloba military was done and over, and it could not come sooner for the chafing half-breed. The storm had rent her limb from limb, but not comparatively to the warriors that had just vanished into thin air. Sometimes she wondered if their souls were brought back through the cycle and born again as Myrians or if they were gone from the cycle forever. It would have been an alarming train of thought up until the half-breed reminded herself she couldn't give one shyke about them or anyone.

She had been maddened and enraged at the Dhani being able to escape the confines of Zinrah, suspecting Siku had had some strange deal with the powers that be when it came to what had happened. But all she could summon for those that were blinded, evaporated, or swallowed by the jungle as it retook itself was a relative stoic apathy. She had suffered too long and too intensely to feel sympathy for the man who had spat upon her before he de-materialized in front of her, or to see the gate guards that would heckle her with their massive tigers and cruel eyes get their just desserts. In a way she saw the events as a great repentance, nature reclaiming its glory over the wild jungles, to show them all just who precisely was in control. This power scared her, showed her how minute she was in the great workings of those above, but to her the lives, even the loss of control was no great loss, merely an obstacle to overcome.

And the army could bloody well overcome it without her. The creatures of the wilderness, those poor frightened Tskanna needed her...just thirty more days.

So she stood slightly apart from her fang, slinging a newly minted quiver over her shoulder, knuckles white with intensity as these thoughts traverse the corners of her mind. A single finger brushed a loose curl that had escaped from her braid behind her ear, the coils of hair bound against the back of her neck. She heard approaching footsteps and forced her body to relax. She practically looked as if she was ready to murder her entire fang...which may not have been far from the truth. She and the fang had come to a loose and unspoken agreement over their years of service together, however, leave the abomination alone and the same could be said for you.

She saw him immediately. She wasn't sure if it was the way he walked, or the way his brows creased in thought so often, unlike other males...that brute that always walked beside him for example, the oxen or whatever. Tinnok's light eyes met Razkar's dark ones and she watched as the fangs gazes flickered with remembered recognition.

Ioxera rolled her shoulders and clucked her tongue like a disapproving mother. "Rekhuna, I didn't think they'd let you off the blockade."

The tigress snorted derisively. "Only because your fang couldn't guard a pile of tiger shat, Ioxera." Tinnok was bored of the banter already and merely reclined against a wall, shading her gaze beneath loose locks. She watched the new fang, how weary they looked. How weary he looked. You'd think he was the one at the blockade at Zinrah as magic or whatever one called it nearly rent him asunder. He had seen different horrors though, the half breed knew.

"So, we hear there's something to find out there."

Ioxera shrugged. "Dhani still made it through into the wilderness between our forces re-grouping. There are strange reports of half shifted abominations caught during the storm, but this one is different, sounds like a few holed up in some crevice to the North."

"How many?"

Ioxera merely shrugged. Tinnok had not liked this plan from the start, Dhani weren't an opponent you could afford to be uncertain about. Regardless of that she was still itching to get moving. Something about the idea of sinking her blade into something she could kill and take her anger out upon sounded deliciously wonderful, and she caught her tongue sliding across her bottom lip unconsciously, bringing the appendage in swiftly before grabbing her pack. Just about time to move out, no?

[Razkar]

Razkar had prided himself on the discipline of his fang. Always the dozen of them (thirteen, if you counted Rehkuna) knew they were the pride of Myri, and their bearing radiated that mentality. On parade or arriving at the Garrison, they would stand in a line, at ease but still waiting for an order, weapons ready.

Everything changed with the Storm. And what followed it. Rehkuna's fang seemed to collapse when it got into the courtyard, sitting down, leaning on walls, breaking ranks to get water, uncaring of the raised eyebrows or muttering or glares from superiors.

Everything is unraveling, Razkar's mind whispered, and a tendril of nameless fear clutched his stomach, What is this happens again? One disaster was enough to shake our people to its roots. Another... what will happen?

The male blinked as he sank to the ground, leaning against a wall, face blank and revealing none of his thoughts. He was too tired to even emote them, but knew sleep would not come. His exhaustion wearied him, but his anger... that kept him awake. Kept his hands moving, like they did when he unsheathed his gladius and began sharpening it, double-headed dagger and hand ax flanking his crossed legs, waiting their turn.

Shhhhhk... Shhhhhk... Shhhhhk...

He lost himself in the sound, the motions of his hand, the old reassurance that this, at least, was doing some tangible good. With every stroke, it was sharper. Razkar half-listened to the two Fang Leader's as they talked, ignoring their tedious verbal sparring. Then his attention perked as they mentioned Dhani... in the north? Impossible.

Impossible. His mind repeated the word with scorn. That was a word for the time before, Razkar. All time is now split, to Before the Storm and After the Storm. Just like it was for the Valterrian. Now... all is possible.

The gladius would get no sharper, and as he sheathed it his eyes caught Tinnok's. Memories resurfaced and sympathy came with them, but they did not show on his neutral features. Her face mirrored his own: hardened, immobile, numbed by pain and horror, a simmering, powerless rage under her eyes. He inclined his head in curt greeting. It was returned. And that was that.

"What do you mean-" Rehkuna shrugged dramatically, scorn radiating from hr body language. "Do we know anything?"

"I know what I have been told," Ioxera all but growled, not taking well to mockery, "And what I have been told is that Dhani are loose beyond the Blockade, and a clutch of them have been seen in a valley a day's march north-east of the city."

"Of Taloba?" Erama said, disbelief in her voice. "That's impossible! Dhani have not come that close for hundreds of years."

"Things have changed."

The three females flicked a glance at Razkar and his fatalistic reply, but he was not looking at them. His ax was apparently more deserving of his attention. Rehkuna narrowed her eyes but did not press his tone. They had all seen... hard things. Ioxera's fang, she had to admit, had it much worse than them, for they had been at the wall.

Only the Fang Leader and three others had survived the Storm, one of them that damned halfbreed. Rehkuna grimaced as she looked at that one, Tinnok. Half-Dhani, and still she marched with them? After what had happened?Ridiculous...

"All I know," Ioxera said, producing the parchment with neatly written orders on it, "is that orders have come from Kreesha herself. What is left of my fang is to be melded with the best of your, and we are to scout this valley. We go to the village of the Dark Water clan, the nearest one to the crevice, who will provide us with directions. Report our findings, assess the Dhani presence and strength, then return to rally support and destroy the nest, if there is one."

Razkar blinked, understanding why the intelligence was so poor: because none had been gained, yet. Reports from the clans in or around the valley were one thing, but accurate, precise, military intelligence gathering was another, and that was what they needed. Rehkuna and he fang had cut their teeth on combat, against Dhani and barbarians and Yukmen. They were the best of the new generation, another prideful point.

But despite all that, they were still just a tool, and apparently the best one for this job.

"Erama, Razkar and myself." Rehkuna said after a few moments of thought, head snapping around and voice raised when the other languidly objected. "Silence, all of you! The best are required and that is what I will give! Oxil, Zuran, you are in command until we return. Train and restore the numbers we lost. You know I will expect perfection when I come back."

The two males nodded so low it was nearly a bow, honored if a little intimidated to be given such responsibility. But in the chaos following the Storm, much had changed, and things that beforehand would not be, now were.

Razkar did not react, but his eyes glittered sharply now, like the ax he carried. Dhani. An enemy. Flesh and real and tantalizingly close. His blades had fed well on the Dhani at the blockade, but his soul was far from sated. The... disgust he had felt, seeing so many of them, boiling and sliding over the clothes and weapons of the departed, hunting the halfbreed survivors at a slow, pleasurable, sadistic pace.

Only the Yukmen commanded more hatred in his heart, and they had taken that which was loved most by him.

Slowly, almost painfully, his rose to his feet on stiff limbs, exhaustion forgotten. He wanted to move out, to close on his enemies and... and...

Feel less helpless. Feel less small and pointless against the ageless and the limitless. Restore your pride, and forget-

Razkar gritted his teeth and gripped the head of his ax until blood coated his palm. He felt it, and it was real. It grounded him in pain, and he swore to repay that on those monsters he found.

"When do we leave?"

[Tinnok]

"I'll give you half a bell, Rekhuna."

The tigress scowled, but couldn't truly argue. This threat, even if it was simply a whisper of it, needed to be eliminated immediately, and the faster they went out to find it and report back, the sooner that could happen. Tinnok's teeth ground together, but she told herself half a bell was nothing compared to what she had waited before. She watched Razkar's cold manner with a bit of awe, and tiniest sliver of fear, that she discounted as soon as it arose. She had seen that cool calculating gaze burning with desire and hate so badly only once...and it had been directed at her. She smirked a bit to herself thinking of any poor Dhani that would have to come face to face with that hand axe, soaked in the blood of countless enemies that had fallen before.

Their numbers had been decimated it was true, leaving only her fang leader, Chinra, and Hiteo. They had gained a brawny male by the name of Gaest, another half-breed survivor of Zinrah that had the blood of the rock people flowing through his veins. Despite his status as a half breed, there was no love between he and the Dhani. Where Tinnok and Aya had formed a common alliance, Gaest had saw the abomination as an opportunity to raise his status in the ranks by tearing her apart, a task which wasn't hard when one was as muscled as he. His strength and durability had made him an instant asset to the otherwise all female fang, and Tinnok had all been forgotten in the transfer. She liked it better that way, better their hate be in stares and the cold shoulder than beatings and old insults. She was a tired abomination, so weary and worn out from the torture, and her body ached with bruises and injuries that ran far deeper than the skin. So the new fang would comprise of the eight of them, a hodge podge of skilled warriors, something that even Tinnok could not deny.

She spent the half bell limbering up for the journey, sitting upon the rough ground and leaning far across her body, fingers sliding past her toes until her body screamed with agony, making sure to hold the posture for a good few ticks before settling in a wonderful release of muscles. She stretcher her calves, glutes, thighs, arms and abdomen, laying flat upon the ground and arching her body, throwing her feet over her head and grabbing them with her hands, once more pulling until pain glazed her eyes. She let her hate and frustrations seep away, focusing in on the pain and the brief moment of quiet before the hunt, the glorious hunt. Her eyes closed, and she appreciated something as close to bliss as one could experience in times like this, the moment before the action, the wonder of the beginning of something that promised to be bloody and satisfying.

"Alright you louts, time to move."

Then it was over. A fluid pull of her body and the abomination was on her feet, eyelids flickering open and legs flowing like a river, born with purpose. She glanced at Razkar and flashed a smile that did not reach her eyes. Time to move indeed.

[Razkar]

Scouting parties, as a rule, traveled light. They moved quickly and could not do so laden down with the armor and provisions that front line soldiers might carry. What they needed, they found on the move. Razkar was grateful for that: it meant that they didn't need tarry much longer in that languid, festering courtyard.

The male busied himself with stretches as the rest of them readied themselves, seeing Tinnok's wisdom. A day's journey through the Jungle would be arduous, as all such journey's were, made worse by Ioxera and Rehkuna metaphorically (and perhaps literally) putting the whips to their back.

Forty miles, he thought to himself, eyes unfocused as he did pull ups from a training bar, mind somewhere else while his body suffered, closer to fifty, probably. Goddess...

For Dhani to come so close to the Scared City was almost unthinkable, but that "almost" made all the difference. The only thing that mattered, all of them knew, was that the reports were confirmed. If they were, utter destruction was the only answer to such an incursion. Razkar's movements became faster, sharper as fantasies of death and blood whipped through his mind, arms pumping, muscles straining-

-until he dropped, bent groaning legs, body limber.

"Alright you louts, time to move."

Razkar fell into line without a word, their rough-hewn fang marching in two lines, Ioxera and Rehkuna leading each one. Erama was behind him, along with a hulking halfbreed that smelled like an Isurian, but he couldn't be sure. He had the physique, but burned with a ruthless ambition that he knew the stoic Metal People did not usually have. The rest of Ioxera's fang was in the other line, silent and sullen as the rest.

As all of them. Razkar felt a rise of sadness as they moved out, marching past Myrians battered and still shocked by everything they had seen an endured. He hated seeing his people like this. This was not what they should be. They were proud and savage, true, but noble in their hearts and brave. This... fear, was almost unbearable.

His melancholy bought his thoughts to Ayatah as they passed the outside of the Garrison, now converted partially into a healer's station for those blinded by the Storm and the stream of wounded from the Blockade. His lover had returned with them but had traveled ahead of his fang. He had not seen her since his return...

Razkar glanced at Tinnok as the Main Gate loomed ahead of them. His words were clipped and short, unafraid of whom would hear.

"Our mind must be on what lies ahead," he said bluntly, but knew she would detect the deep concern hiding behind his brusqueness, "So I will only ask this once. Did Ayatah make it here safely?"

[Tinnok]

Tinnok watched the Tskanna dragging chunks of debris from their stampede out of the streets. She longed to sway from the ranks and lay a hand upon them, for their eyes held the same pain and confusion of the Myrian's that guided them. It would be worth it, to break from the rigid formation to assure her massive friends that the city would go back to the way it was, that all would be well in the end.

But she did not. She was too weary to carry the look Ioxera would throw her way, give the snake witch that had survived their three years together. So she looked balefully up at those great creatures and walked on, out of the city, barely paying heed to her fellows.

Every step was a burden once they exited the gates, plants choking the ground, stamping out any loamy browns with every shade of green that Caiyha ever created. She still wasn't used to it, the feel of so much rampant life, and when her skin brushed against the plants she winced with the overwhelming sensation of life and energy coursing through vines and roots and leaves.

Machetes were slid from belts and arms began hacking at the vines. A small space had been cleared directly out of the entrance to the city, but past that it was each Myrian for themselves. Tinnok whispered a small prayer of forgiveness before joining in the fray, her arm slicing through the greenery.

She barely recognized the voice that came out of his throat. The eagle and she had had plenty of terse conversations, but this...this was different. His voice was dry, but not hoarse, emotionless, yet flowing with it. She glanced at him and let a long pause follow his question, more out of her own curiosity and dazed reaction than anything. "She is well enough."

She paused again, wondering if she should say more...Honestly the half-breed was a bit irked when it came to Ayatah and the eagle. She didn't speak much about him, not even to her friend. Petch it, did she really need to know anyway? Whatever extra words the abomination had considered saying flew out the window and she carried on in silence, eyelids closing here and there as she communicated with the plants around her, their growth accelerated...yet not unnatural.

And so the day went. Even the banter between Ioxera and the tigress had ceased in favor of grunts and heaving breaths as wiry muscles sliced through plants and foliage. The two leaders cut the brunt of plants, but it did not mean those who followed got cut out of the labor. Soon enough Tinnok's arm was aching from slicing her machete through the scrub. Every now and then her eyes would flash to Razkar, trying to assess why he carried the burden of these times so heavily upon his shoulders.

[Razkar]

The words were enough to reassure him, vague though that last one was. But he was not xpecting a great outpouring of exposition from Tinnok. She was taciturn at best, as befitted one as isolated as she. Razkar knew from experience not to try and cure that particular ailment.

Mainly because it was not an ailment with her; it was part of the armor she rightly wore against a world that could and would destroy her given the chance.

Besides, his mind and body had more pressing concerns, as he had said. The Jungle had not just come alive, it had become angry. Growths and vines thick as torsos had sprung up and coiled from the trees like arms, obliterating trails and making the already-thick Jungle a true endurance trial.

They hacked and hacked and butchered plant life by the regiment, but there were endless reinforcements. Progress slowed to a crawl and before long the two panting Fang Leaders were slowing.

"Rotate!" Ioxera said breathlessly, sheathing her machete. "Razkar, Tinnok, front and lead!"

The two named wordlessly stepped up, their Fang Leaders falling in behind them for a change. Razkar unsheathed his gladius and put its honed edge to good use, those same thick vines slashed apart like paper with left and right strokes. She did the same to his left, silently hacking a way through the foliage with quick, precise blows.

Bells passed, and within two, they rotated again. And again. And again, when the light had faded completely... which was sooner than usual. The canopy had swelled along with all other greenery around them and where once there were plenty of cracks to see the sky and the light, now it was a crushing, oppressive blanket of leaves that brooked no eyes from Syna.

"Halt!"

That time, Rehkuna made the call, and the ragged fang was glad to hear it. In the way of experienced soldiers the multiverse over, the eight of them slid into patterns and roles without words being exchanged. Hiteo and Chinra vanished into the trees, bow and blowpipe in hand, looking for dinner. Gaest put his bulk and strength to work gathering firewood and making the fire. Rehkuna and Ioxera stood guard on the ground, leaving-

"You two." Ioxera stabbed at them with a finger and then jerked it upwards. "Eyes in the trees, and don't waste our time talking."

Razkar gripped a nearby vine and pulled himself up, hand over hand, his ankles tight around the bottom of it and jerking upward, caterpillar-style, whenever his hands got too far above. It reminded him of his training, the vines and ropes he had scaled with instructors bellowing below him and firing headless arrows at him to... simulate combat stress.

That was what they said, anyway. Razkar just thought Herliz enjoyed watching him fall.

But only if I rose again...

And with that flicker of reminiscence, his mind began to churn again. Even as his hands worked into gaps in the bark and he scaled over the branches, he thought deeper than he needed to. Thought of the contempt this Jungle showed them now, deeper and ire more palpable that before. The Jungle had always been their ally and their enemy in equal measure, protecting them and testing them every day.

But after the Storm... it was revealed at the hostile entity it had always been. Razkar felt pain at that thought; he had made many offerings to Caiyha, always believing her to truly be a friend of her people, a comrade of the Goddess-Queen.

Then why did she allow this? Why had they suffered so and the Dhani left all-but-untouched? Did she deserve to be worshiped, if nothing came of it?

Razkar grunted as he hauled himself up onto a thick branch, squatting on it close to the trunk so to blend into it and its shadow, minimizing his profile. It would take time for his eyes to adjust to the twilight, then the night, and the Dhani needed no such time.

Halfway there, barely thirty miles from Taloba... and already he could feel them.

"Things have changed..."

He whispered the words from earlier to the tree, and saw a flicker of movement to his right. Tinnok had joined him, squatting like one of the gargoyles he had read about in the barbarian lands, still as stone and just as watchful.

Night approached. He wished it speed and the dawn that followed it. They had far to go before questions could be asked and answered.

[Tinnok]

Her arms groaned with effort, but Tinnok ignored the pain as she climbed. Strange how easy it was all things considered, how many plants circled around the trees. Her mind flowered with thoughts parallel but opposite to her scout mate. She saw Caiyha's birth anew, felt energy and life within the plants that surged beneath her fingertips. She felt a great growth in their slow memories, power that only the sun had drawn before urging their vines to grow hard and long, for roots to stretch and leaves to flourish. Their voices, strange and dissonant like faint echoes trapped in their bark bounced within her mind. The language of Nura was so strange and silent, but it still felt comfortable to the witch as hand over hand, foot dipping into crevice and hole she climbed.

She crouched upon branches like a cat, looking out into the fading light. They were closer than before...but not close enough for her liking. Progress of course would be slow...but still.

She glanced at Razkar and opened her mouth, then shut it again, remembering Ioxera's words. She heard his silent whisper and wondered what it meant, what pain lay behind it.

Then her eyes were back toward the upper under story. She could see Hiteo every now and then appear as a fleeting object, could hear the noises of birds retreating to their climbs for slumber. A light flutter of wings heralded a small Tanager to the branch beside her, several arms lengths away. It was a blue grey color with a vibrant sky blue head and beady black eyes, barely larger than a finch. Head cocked to the side inquisitively it hopped towards Tinnok, then eyed the other Myrian beside her. As witch and bird made eye contact she sensed its caution. It had little to fear from the large ground dwelling beasts, but it had seen what the two legged ones did to others. Tinnok proffered two fingers, sending images and thoughts of warm nests and full bellies. No harm would befall the little bird this eve.

There was a moment of hesitation before it fluttered atop her finger, and Tinnok's stoic expression broke for a moment then, small smile alighting her lips and sinking into her golden eyes. She lifted the creature atop her shoulder, sharing thoughts and pictures with it as she trained her gaze back towards the forest, wondering if the little flying wanderer had seen anything of use this day.

In truth it had not. Where ever the Tanager had come from, it was not in the direction of the village they sought and the potential Dhani threat that inhabited it. She saw visions of greenery, insects, maggots, and rotten fruit, but not sentient beings or snake like appendages. A few chimes passed and the Tanager went its separate way, leaving the two scouts to their waiting and watching.

Tinnok let out a long breath, but still did not find any words to conjure. Like as not the eagle wouldn't be much of a conversationalist, his eyes looked dead and his stance was as rigid as hers was. Part of her longed to punch him in the shoulder and tell him to get the shyke over it, but she suspected this was not a clever plan. There would be time, it just wasn't now. Slowly she felt an emptiness open in her stomach, wondering when Chinra and Hiteo would bring back food, yellow eyes catching flits of shadows in the distance as creatures settled in for the night.

[Razkar]

Razkar had to repress the shiver of jealousy that went through him as he saw Tinnok's lithe, still shadow meld with the fluttering one of the bird on her hand. He knew of and had seen the mark of Caiyha on the halfbreed, and knew the amazing abilities it afforded her.

To be one with the Jungle... that was power, he had decided. To be able to use the thousands, millions, million millions of eyes that were always watching within it to find your prey. The martial applications alone were-

Which is missing the point, isn't it? He frowned, hearing that rational voice that always stepped back from his petty emotions and saw as big a picture as there truly was. The Gnosis is a favor from a Goddess, not a weapon. Some may use it that way, but to regard it solely as such... that would corrupt it. Now, Myri's Marks, however...

Razkar let a half-smile cross his face. Oh, he knew of those marks, and how skilled and deadly they made a warrior. One day, he would get his. That thought was in his mind as he heard the distant squeal, which sounded distinctly porcine... and then the strange bird call that followed it.

From a bird not native to this region. Hiteo had apparently drawn first blood.

Silent, still and watchful, the two Myrians in the high branches listened and picked out movement as the hunters returned. A shadow swung between them as they walked in single file, blood glistened dully in the faint glare cast by the bonfire...

Another bird call, this time directed upward.

Razkar and Tinnok began their descent down the branches and vines, made all the more difficult by the darkness engulfing them. Handholds had to be found by touch, or remembered from the climb up... and yet, when Razkar saw that yellow flash as he found her looking at him...

Seize the moments while you can... regardless of the pain that came before them. No... especially because of that, he thought, and smirked.

"First one down gets to eat first."

Then he let go of his handholds, dropped down to land hard on the branch that was there, already rolling across it to reach for the vines to its side.

[Tinnok]

Darkness was nearly upon them when the call summoned them from lofty heights. In truth Tinnok had dreaded this moment. Up here she was queen of all, understood the world and what it meant, her purpose among its branches and soft moss. Down below she was merely an abomination. A hungry abomination, though, and that is fueled her as she began the downward climb.

She couldn't help but smile when she saw the glint of Myrian competition appear in Razkar's eyes. He was a capable warrior whom she had much respect for, and it was good to see his spirit could not be vanquished so easily.

Her hands released their hold a tick after his, feet landing with a large thump onto a lower branch as she back pedaled back the way they had come. He had the advantage of weight and a head start, but she was the more agile of the two, or so she liked to think. Nimble fingers clung to vines, pushing her body downwards, bare feet gripping vines, and holds below her.

She had just begun to gain on him when he made a risky leap, at first she was sure he was going to tumble to his death, but two strong arms caught an equally strong branch, gaining him the lead once more. Tinnok snarled and decided to make a risky play. Grabbing hold of a thick vine in one hand she slid out one of her daggers and sliced away the vine. She could hear the noises of her opponent growing ever more distant by the tick and she grimaced, sawing at the strong vine. With a thunk and a small snap the vine broke and she leapt out and away from the tree and into the darkness of the night, vine clutched in both hands.

It was an exhilarating moment, feeling the world drop away behind you, knowing that for just a moment you were weightless, perhaps like the Tanager before.

Of course she couldn't just continue flying. The ground swelled up to meet her and Tinnok's eyes widened, wondering if her chance jump had been a grievous error. The snap of the vine hit a few yards above the ground and snapped with her weight, depositing the half breed with a solid thump upon the ground: face first.

She rose slowly, body screaming at her for the hundredth time that day. Ioxera scowled, but the tigress merely lifted a singular eyebrow. "Report?"

Tinnok brushed mud and leaves off of her person and twisted her neck slightly. "Nothing save more foliage and birds. If there are Dhani, they must have approached the village from a different direction."

The tigress grunted, and Tinnok heard the thump of Razkar landing significantly more gracefully behind her. She turned to him and gave a wink to seal her victory...even if the merits of it could be subject to debate.

The smell of roasting meat silenced any more conversation, and barring the fang leaders and the ones that had brought down the kill, Tinnok dug into her share of fatty haunch of the peccary that had been taken down, smirking as the eagle sat next to her upon the set of corded vines.