Flashback Heaven Hath No Rage...

[Razkar]

"I told you... you will be mine."

Razkar could see it before it happened, and even then knew he was powerless to stop it. Arm nearly wrenched out its socket by the Dhani's thrashings, shattered from his climb, weak in knee and bicep, the male tried to summon the will as he raised Tinnok like a child in her grasp.

"No. No!"

A flick of her wrist, a twist of her arm, and with a final anguished look in his direction, Wolf vanished from the canopy and plummeted out of sight.

Something split the jungle. A noise. Flocks of birds who'd shied out of the way of the battle flew even further. The Myrians below paused fractionally between fresh arrows or the next foothold, wondering if some new abomination had joined them. Razkar heard it too... he just didn't recognize it for a moment.

It was him. Screaming.

"Now...where were we?"

The Dhani-thing turned back to him... and it smiled. It grinned. Malice and amusement and malevolence and sheer mirth danced across its misshapen eyes and swollen, bleeding face. Years later, when Razkar would have rare moments of doubt concerning the righteousness of his crusade, he would remember that moment. Even twisted and driven insane by what had happened to it, the creature was every bit the Dhani.

Enjoying his pain. Relishing his suffering. Slaughtering and torturing simply because, well, why not?

"Oh..." The thing said with a low chuckle, and Razkar noticed his movements growing more sluggish, dagger still sticking out of its chest, either too weak or arrogant to remove it. "Sssssshe was dear to you, I sssssssssee?" He tut-tutted mockingly as Razkar managed to haul himself upright, ax still stuck fast and exchanged for his gladius. "You failed her, boy. All your effortssssssss in vain. How doessssss it feel? To know your weaknesssssssss.... killed one you love-"

Razkar let out a bellow and his whole world seemed to vanish in a red mist. But he knew that Wolf would not want this, wouldn't want a pointless, bloody death for him, hacking and slashing ineffectually at an enemy that was weakened but still strong. Victory requires sacrifice.

The words of the army of Taloba snapped into his head. Breathing heavy like a tiger after a full roar, Razkar noted the blood pouring from her wounds. Her arm. The weakened movements...

"Enough."

He lunged forwards, and knew he would only have the strength for this one gamble. The Dhani hiss and lashed out with its tail, but so huge a bludgeon was taxing for its body now, diminished by a dozen arrows piercing its flesh, not to mention a sword and hand ax. Razkar leaped over the mass of scaly flesh as it tried to knock his legs out from under him, knees screaming as he hit the branch again-

"Die!"

-as the Dhani hissed it's fury and swung out with it's fist, muscled arm swinging-

-only for Razkar to duck under it, gritting his teeth at the pain in his legs, gladius in both hands, feeling the whoosh and shadow of the arm passing over his head-

-before standing and slashing upwards with both hands, all his strength and rage and fury and grief in that one swing of two feet of sharpened, gleaming iron-

The Dhani screeched in absolute agony. It watched in stunned, horrified fascination as everything below it's elbow vanished in an arc of spraying blood, forearm spinning down and down in the same direction Tinnok went, hand still clutched into an angry fist.

The Lady finally favored them; just as the Dhani's head snapped back to him, he heard the low whistle and thick thunks of arrows slamming into flesh. The Dhani arched its back and half-twisted, letting Razkar see the long, barbed shafts buried into its back, one ripping through the front of its torso.

His Fang was catching up. Razkar would bet bikkas to beans that one of those arrows belonged to the dependable Xarel.

Razkar capitalized on the shock, pain and distraction, like he had been trained to do. Time to end this.

"Burn forever." He said, half-jumping, half-falling against its chest, one hand braced around its neck, the other gripped the handle of Tinnok's dagger and ripped it free, the Myran and the once-Dhani entwined in a twisted parody of a loving embrace. "She'll be waiting for you."

The Dhani's mouth opened and teeth, rows of teeth, breath fetid and dank and stinking of a thousand lives taken, all showed themselves, eager to take one more life before the scurrying insects finally claimed it-

-and then a metal gleam eclipsed everything.

The monster choked, but could not find any words. It's tongue was pinned to the roof of it's mouth and... and... further than that. It's boy twitched and spasmed but it had no control over it, mind oddly disconnected like an astral projection. It blinked... it wondered why...

Razkar knew, even as waves of fatigue battered him. He'd ripped Wolf's dagger from its chest and jammed it straight up. Into the Dhani's jaw, past it's mouth, and then burying it in the brain.

"They all will..."

The monster's eyes moved so slowly to him. Then, just before the light faded from them forever, its lips twitched and the ghost of two words slurred from between his lips... and ruined the warrior's victory.

"My... thanks..."

They fell. The Dhani toppled back, coils trying to hold on by muscle memory alone, and failing, sheer weight too much to bear. Razkar felt himself fall, too, but it was... no... it was painful. He was weak. He had failed. His friend was dead, but... but the mission had been accomplished. He had fought as a warrior, and would now die as one.

By the sword, and to it.

To those I leave behind, his mind whispered as he felt the exhaustion and wounds take him and tree trunk vanish from between his feet, wind suddenly blowing at him from his fall, forgive me... but we shall meet again.

Razkar fell. But he did not fall for long.

[Tinnok]

oocApologies for the shortish post!

She was falling. She heard the Eagle's words in her mind, telling her that if she died....she proved nothing, and she felt a pang of regret that it wouldn't be true. That they would look at her corpse, perhaps thank her tersely...and that would be the end of her legacy, but she had served Caiyha...and hopefully...no definitely, the Eagle would live on. He and Ayatah would have a brood of children, start their own clan, and live a happy life, taking care of Nissila and the Dog...

The idea made her smile as branches whipped across her back. The cracking of one branch after another breaking beneath her weight. She winced in pain as another thicker branch snapped, cried out as a stick stabbed into her back with the force with which she was falling. Couldn't just hit the ground and black out, huh? Nah, that would be too simple for the likes of her.

Her tail bone smacked against a thicker branch, sending her spinning as she continued to fall. And then she smashed into the ground.

----

"Hey, it's over here!" A form walked over to the limp body. Another pair of feet joined the first, nudging the form more than a little roughly.

"It alive?" There was a non committal grunt, and a finger was placed upon the neck.

"Barely..." There was a long thoughtful pause.

"We could-"

"No. We do that, we're not any better than them. It helped us, so let's get it- her, up and back, alright?"

Which was how Tinnok's battered, bruised, and unconscious body was dragged into the clearing as the majority of the hunting party circled around Razkar, if Tinnok had been conscious, she would have smirked, a Dhani body was a much better thing to break your fall than a few tree branches...

[Razkar]

He was not dead. But he was not alive.

When Myrians died, as Razkar well knew, their bodies went to the next world, but they did not linger. Due to a wise and shrewd pact with Dira, Myri took possession of the departed souls of her children, and they were reborn in the wailing infants birthed to Myrian mothers. Or they were given the chance to serve eternally in her Shadow Guard. Al Myrians aspired to the latter option, but Razkar knew it was not just because of it's honor.

It was because the first meant a death of consciousness. Yes, you were reborn, but your life force, your energy, that essential... Myrian-ness that made and forged you.

But your memories? Your thoughts? Your wishes and drives and all that made you in the waking world? They vanished. They did. They did not continue. It was very much a death, and a nothingness.

But Razkar could feel. He felt the pain in his chest and his side. Aches in his ribs and his legs. Something had broken, he was sure of it... a leg, maybe? An arm? He must be alive, for the afterlife had no pain in it... right?

He moaned, and he could hear the sound, but it... echoed. As if from far away, like his eyes and ears for a league away from his mouth. Goddess, he was thirsty...

"... what does that mean?"

"He's probably in pain."

Razkar stilled his breath, at least until he realized he couldn't hear it anyway. Voices... he knew them! Ruwama and... yes.. it was his father. He had to be alive, because the two of them weren't out there, and-

-flashes of them became flashes of what followed, what happened, a fight in the sky and Wolf's eyes and falling, a toothy maw and-

"Goddess!"

Razkar's swollen eyes snapped open and he breathed in like a man who'd been drowning to the edge of death. Zek's head snapped around and immediately he planted his hands on his shoulders, knowing from old what his son would try to-

"Peace, boy!"

-as Razkar tried to surge forward, shock at reality slamming into his eyes numbing his arms. He barely noticed the bandages around his arms, his leg, still tried to-

He let out a curse that even had Ruwama impressed, and she'd heard (or invented) thousands over her long life. The spasm of agony from his leg ripped through his nerves like a lightning bolt and he let his fathers' strong arms pin him to the bed.

The boy looked up. Dark, steady, frowning eyes, forcing him to steady himself...

"Boy... Raz... you know me? Do you know me?"

"F... Father..."

"You're fine, my boy." The serious expression creased into a glowing smile. "You and the abomination, your fang... you all did a fine job. That bastard creature's dead and-"

His son started raving. Muttering the same handful of words over and over again. But his grip... it was still strong. It held onto Zek's arm and his eyes filled with fear and desperation ripped into Zek's heart. But after a moments mad litany, his body realized just how twisted it was. Invisible but essential glands and chemicals opened and began rushing through him, and Zek watched his eyes rolled back and sleep claimed him again.

Ruwama looked up from her pestle and mortar. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. He kept asking about a wolf..."

[Tinnok]

When she woke, she wished that she hadn’t. Her entire back felt like it had been branded by a giant hand, which in some ways…it had. The injuries that she had received prior to the hunt were on fire, while new scrapes, claw marks and bruises could be felt pulsating….seemingly everywhere. She wasn’t dead….however, though it seemed like a positive alternative to the Hell she had woken into, and all she could manage was a soft moan of pain. Where ever she was seemed to be dark…and fairly cool in comparison to the regular climate of Taloba….though perhaps that was simply her body reacting to her numerous injuries.

The half breed coughed, seeing a faint red spray exit her mouth. Shyke…

“I do not know whether to be impressed or saddened that you survived that fall.” Ruwama? That had been her name, had it not? Tinnok tried to turn her head, but found she could not, and her head swam with the intended effort.

“Don’t even try, snake, you are in a worse way than Razkar, and that is saying something.”

Tinnok could have given a sigh of relief with those words, though every breath hurt somewhere in her ribs. He was alive…thank the Goddess. Her eyes closed for a moment, but shot open when she felt a hand upon her chest, even that gentle touch causing her eyes to flash open in pain. She looked up to see the elder woman’s face hovering above her, a sharp knife for incisions on hand. “I have rubbed a salve upon your stomach to numb the pain. You are bleeding from the inside, I must cut into you and find the source…or you will perish.”

Tinnok’s eyes widened slightly, watching as a shining knife sliced into her flesh….she still felt the pain, but before the screams could begin, Ruwama put a stick into her mouth. Tears streamed down her face as the healer peered into Tinnok’s innards, body screaming in pain. The entire time Ruwama spoke to her, even after Tinnok passed into unconsciousness. It would take a long while for Tinnok to realize afterward that it was the kindest thing the healer could have done to her abomination of a patient, but she began with one of the most painful things the half breed could have considered at a time like this.

“You care for Razkar…” She began. Tinnok’s eyes widened, but she was helpless to respond.

“I see it in the way you look at him, almost the same way that Eypharian does. Beautiful girl, clever, kind.” Tinnok wanted to get up and throttle the woman, wounds be damned. What was she trying to do, throw insult in her injuries? Literally?

“You will never be like her, snake. Never accepted or one of us, not truly. Do not harbor these illusions that you have, about him, about this.” Tinnok wanted to argue, to shout. Ruwama was keeping her awake, heart thumping, anger pumping, words acting as a distraction. It was a good thing her arms and legs were tied down, for she would have killed herself and this woman in the process.

“Do not act so angry, abomination. He might be an ignorant male when it comes to women, but it is easy to see the way you gaze at him. I only warn you now, that it would be better to abandon your feelings now, to give them up and release them, rather than let this wound fester. It will do no good.”

Thinking of the many ways that she would murder this woman, Tinnok screamed into the stick as she felt her insides being moved, and just about then…the pain became too much, and she blacked out.

Ruwama smiled. “Fiesty little brat, I’ll give her that.” And then her smile faded. The creature would be feisty no more if this went the wrong way.

[Razkar]

"Myri and Dira, boy, will you desist for one damn bell?!"

Razkar drew himself up, or tried to. Not an easy thing to do when you're leaning on a crutch and limping like an old man. Ruwama rolled her eyes and glared at him, as utterly unimpressed by the ferocious warrior as she always appears.

"Has she woken?"

"No, for the tenth time today, she has not! I have told you before not to tax that damn leg too much, and what are you doing? Hobbling in here every hour for the last five days!"

Razkar's brow lowered for only a moment, the closest he could get to glaring at the old healer. As a male, he'd been raised from birth to always respect his elders, especially the female ones. He'd lost count of how many times she'd patched him up after hunts or fights, but... this was different.

"I would sit with her for a while, then."

"She's unconscious, boy!"

"Even so, I would stay."

Ruwama's brow dropped now, and some hidden calculation took place behind her eyes. Razkar couldn't read it exactly, but he had a good idea what it was about. Cosying up to a half-Dhani was more than inadvisable in their clan; it was repugnant. Shameful. He knew that she cared for him, like she did for all her clan, but their honor was just as important. Which was driving her now - concern for him or a desire to protect the name of the Shorn Skulls - he did now know. But it amounted to the same thing.

"I cannot permit that. You need to rest, and so does she."

"If I am sitting, I am resting. If she is sleeping, she is also resting. Where is your concern?"

The old woman's frown turned into a scowl, and a wrinkled but still firm and vital finger leveled at him.

"I am healer of the Shorn Skulls, boy. All matters concerning the health of all in these clan lands fall to me."

The merest twitch of a sardonic smile, but once again, Razkar couldn't permit himself more than that. "Pulling rank on me, mistress?"

"Trying to get some sense through your thick male skull," Ruwama shot back, lying masterfully, "Get back to your kin and back to bed. Defy my instructions again and I will have your father tie you to it. Don't test me."

Razkar stood (well, kind of) in silence for long moments, but knew it was hopeless pushing this. Ruwama was smart and unbending and, unfortunately, right. Him sitting by Wolf's bed would not aid her, but...

His eyes glanced behind her, at the bandaged and still figure in the stained sheets. Ruwama had yet to change them that day. She was so... frail. Eagle felt his jaw tighten as he saw it but failed to believe it. Tinnok, his Tinnok, so diminished and weak, it was just... unnatural. He'd been told that it was a miracle for her to have survived, and that it was at a cost.

Ruwama had sliced her open to save her life. Even now, Razkar still winced at the agony that must have inflicted...

"I obey, of course, mistress."

The healer decided not to comment on the tone and just stood there, arms crossed and eyebrow cocked, waiting... until the boy left. But at the door, he paused. The package, almost as long as his arm and wrapped in thick cloth, that he had in his free hand was left on the table. His voice took on that softer, almost pleading tone that she'd known since she'd first set his shoulder when he was but five summers old, climbing too high that was smart for him.

"When she does wake... please give this to her. Tell her that she earned it. Will you do that, healer?"

"... yes."

"My thanks."

Razkar left the trophy behind and hobbled as best he could back to his longhouse. Shorn Skulls nodded or spoke greetings as he passed, but none offered to help. They knew it would insult him, though when he swerved to avoid a pair of chasing children, he almost regretted that.

His father was, of course, not happy he'd been wandering.

"This is bordering on obsession, son."

"It is nothing of the sort," Razkar said, leaning in the doorway and staring at the thing dominating the square of their village. "It is concern for my comrade."

"Don't bullshit me, boy, you're not nearly smart enough for it."

Razkar whirled on the man he once feared. Still did, actually, but long years with the army of Taloba, not to mention surviving the Djed Storm, had taught him there were far scarier things out there than his father.

"She is my friend, father! She nearly died because I was too slow to-"

"Enough, for the Goddess's sake!" Zek all but hissed, eyes darting about furtively. "Do you think we are all blind? Your concern for an asset is one thing, but feelings for an abomination-"

"Do not call her that-"

Zek's hand moved fast despite his age. He grasped his son at the shoulder and his eyes bored into him, old and flinty and merciless. Razkar remembered that this old man he loved was a killer many times over before he was even born. And not just of Dhani, Yukmen and marauding humans.

"Mind your words, boy. Remember who you are and where you are. I don't care what it is, concern or... something else. But it reflects on us and-"

Razkar tore away from him, much to Zek's shock. The boy... no, he realized. Not a boy. A warrior of Taloba, who turned to the thing in the square and hawked a fat, contemptuous load towards it before swinging into the doorway.

"I have heard this many times, and I already tire of it. She is my friend. She is comrade to myself and my love." He spoke over his shoulder, hobbling and limping for his bed. "And she has earned your respect, if not your affection. Make sure they save the head. I have plans for it, and since my hand slew the monster, I have final say over its carcass. I go to rest... and I shall stay at rest, you will be happy to know. Good day, father."

Zek did not reply, just stared in surprise as his son walked away. Then he turned his gaze back to the square...

Impaled on a dozen spears but still monstrous and terrifying, the deformed Dhani was raised high enough that a handful of Myrians could comfortably stand in its shadow. The misshapen arm was gone, and Zek knew where it was. The head was still attached, staring into oblivion with the same strange mix of pain and relief it had died with. Blood had pooled and congealed into black grease from a dozen wounds... and offerings had been laid before it.

Offerings to Dira. Not for peace, but for pain. Zek had made his own.

Dira, friend of Myri and her children, give this creature not peace nor succor in the next world. Let it know only pain and anguish, from now until the ending of the world...

He sighed and scratched under his beard. He did not know what his son had planned, but he had a feeling it would involve Mayla.

[Tinnok]

When she finally woke...it felt like she had been asleep for a week. And in reality she probably had. She was no longer bound and restrained, that she noticed immediately, but before she could even attempt to sit up, a wizened hand was upon her back.

"Take it easy snake, before you can leave we need to make sure you can keep down food." With help from Ruwama Tinnok slowly sat up, all parts of her body groaning with the effort. The woman passed Tinnok a bowl with a spoon filled with a mush that the half breed couldn't identity. Even a healer wouldn't stoop so far as to feed an abomination herself, and Tinnok gingerly reached for the utensil, feeling weak like a new born babe, as if she had to learn all of this over again.

The liquid was luke warm, and tasted like mashed meat and root vegetables. As it slid down a sore throat Tinnok began to eat it faster, stomach realizing how long she had been without food, then Ruwama snatched the bowl from her hands. "Not so fast. Let's see how that sits with you first." She took the bowl and spoon and sat down across from Tinnok, watching her carefully. The half breed glanced away under the scrutiny, and noticed a strangely wrapped object at the foot of her cot. She glanced back at Ruwama and the woman shrugged. "He said to give it to you when you woke, and say...you had earned it." She said the words almost regretfully, but Tinnok was already leaning over to grab the parcel, unwrapping it eagerly, head throbbing. Within she found the massive arm of the beast and a smile perched upon sore lips. Fitting really, that he give her the arm that had held her captive. The claws...perhaps she would make them into a necklace, and the skin...her mouth drew in a thoughtful line...for many years she had wanted to keep a journal, the skin from the arm could work as the perfect material for such a book.

Her stomach gurgled with hunger and Ruwama sighed, handing the bowl back to Tinnok. "Alright snake, you can finish the rest, but go slow. It was your stomach that was injured in the fall, you are young, it should heal, but it may never return to normal, eating too much could cause the injury to burst, and you to perish, so keep that in mind."

Tinnok smirked. "Could you be a little more blunt, healer?"

"Petch off abomination, I saved your hide."

"And for that I will be forever in your debt, Mistress."

"Ach, I don't want no snake following me around trying to do me favors. You helped my clan, and I helped you, it's even and that's the end of it." With that she got up and left, and Tinnok was left wondering if she had seen a smile in those old eyes...or if it was just an illusion.

Regardless she slowly finished the strange stew, and assessed her body. She was beat to hell...and it took her nearly a bell to get the strength up to stand, but she managed it. She slowly hobbled from whatever space Ruwama had kept her in, it did not seem like an actual medbay, but she couldn't be surprised about that.

And then she saw it. Missing an arm, and surely soon to miss much more, the mangled beast hung suspended over the spear tips. Tinnok hobbled slowly towards it, biting her lip to keep from moaning in pain as she lowered herself down before the massive creature, head stooped in prayer, voice barely more than a whisper.

"I do not know what unimaginable pain this creature underwent to become what it was, and I know why you led me to it Goddess of Flora and Fauna. I do not wish it an easy life to be reborn into, do not ask that it not pay for its sins against your domain, and the loyal servants to you and Myri that live within it. But I do ask that you give it some peace that it could not find in this life...nothing...nothing deserves such a fate."

No one disturbed her, the strangely emaciated being that sat their in prayer, to Myri, Dira, and Caiyha, and Tinnok sat there, wondering what horrible thing could have caused the storm, a storm that ate up her fellows, blinded their warriors, and...transformed Dhani into abhorrations. Truly no race was safe from the vile tendrils of whatever strange magicks had occurred that fateful day. So Tinnok asked for forgiveness for whatever sins they had committed to bring this upon them, and for understanding...someday, of what had transpired.

Her concentration was broken by the sound of light and somewhat awkward footfalls behind her, and her lips twitched, eyes opening and turning up to face the Eagle. She drank in his injuries, a touch of sorrow behind her gaze at them. "Ach if you look like that...I must look like the shyke a Tskanna dropped out."

[Razkar]

"Your friend is awake, boy."

Razkar looked up from his book and found his father standing above his bed with a stern look on his face. He'd spat out "friend" like it had been "abomination", but at least he'd made the effort. Then his son started shifting around his bed like a newborn and that changed.

"You should stay in bed."

"I won't be long, father." Razkar said between breaths, manhandling himself to the edge of the bed and fumbling for his crutch. Damn it! He'd left it there, why- "Oh. Thank you."

"Mmmhmm..."

Razkar sighed, or he tried to even as he pulled himself somewhere resembling upright. His right leg still snarled and ached fiercely at him when too much weight was on it, but it was far less than the agony five days ago. Another four, the healer said, and he would be ready to make the journey back to Taloba.

No, his real problem was the silently disapproving male in front of his bed.

"I wish you'd stop worrying." He said as he started to limp past. "I love and am in love with Ayatah. That has not changed."

Zek bit back a reply cut from the same cloth as the one he made the day before, but remembered how his son had reacted then. Brown eyes glaring at the boy, he shook his head instead.

"Do as you wish, son."

"You do not believe me?"

"I believe young men often make bad decisions and trust their loins over their hearts and minds."

Razkar paused in the doorway. For a terrible moment he thinks the male will turn and snap like some enraged tiger... but he doesn't. He just sighs, and his head bows a fraction.

"Maybe in the next life." He says, and whatever sadness in his voice is eclipsed by his conviction. "But she is what she is, and I am what I am... and more than that, we have both made our choices. But she is my friend, and always will be."

Little more needed to be said, and Razkar didn't feel like voicing it, anyway. He was tired of the glares and dark looks and muttered prayers or curses he'd seen Wolf endure with her usual stoicism. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

No, a voice told him bluntly, it's Falyndar.

"Ach if you look like that... I must look like the shyke a Tskanna dropped out."

Razkar rolled his eyes at her words, though he was more impressed with her senses. Even swaddled in bandages like those mummified corpses he'd heard of in Anhatep, limping and hunched, she was as sharp as ever.

He frowned slightly as her lips moved. Prayers for the monster? Against it? He didn't know. Part of him didn't want to find out.

"Not your usual vivacious self, it must be said," he managed to say with a smirk, settling onto his crutch next to her, eyes fixed on the corpse. "Still, it does give you a certain... martial air. That's good. You'll be fighting off males with a stump."

Her look could have leveled a tree but all it provoked from Eagle was a warm smile. Ah, good to see she still had fire in those golden eyes. Then she turned back to the snake and his smile faded, like a setting sun. He saw a turmoil of emotions in her, and couldn't hep but look around briefly, lowering his voice in case some hidden ears were around.

"You look almost as if you pity it."

Silence answered him. A flush of righteous anger made his chest swell, but then he remembered: she was not fully Myrian. She had some blood and thus some... empathy.

Razkar hawked and spat to one side, face still set in a hateful grimace. The same could not be said for him, and never could.

"Some things do not get forgiven, Wolf."

He said, sounding like his father and perfectly fine with the cold, merciless edge to his words. It was not her family slain by this monster. He sighed again, scratching carefully around the bandages lashed around his ribs. His voice became a little more thoughtful, remembering, gazing at those strange, staring, misshapen eyes.

"It... thanked me, you know. Right before the light left its eyes. Thanked me for... ending it's pain, I suppose." He snorted. "Bloody ruined it for me..."

[Tinnok]

She was comforted by his presence. It was one thing to live as an abomination and live used to the hostility, but an entirely other thing to be so utterly alone in this sea of Myrian hate.

So when he saw her transparent gaze, and asked her of the pity he saw there, she could almost feel the rage radiating beneath the bandages from him.

She opened her mouth to respond but he beat her to the action, and she was silent for a long moment afterwards. "That creature was intelligent and cruel, but insane." She licked cracked lips before continuing. "Not insane like the pale priestess in the cave, driven mad by her obsession with Siku, but driven to it by forces outside of its control."

She saw his eyes radiate with fire, and she held up a hand. "It needed to perish, to burn for its sins against Myri and Caiyha, but the fate it had to suffer beforehand...If I had been caught in the storm like that...." Her voice grew even quieter than. "It could have happened to anyone...Dhani, Myrian, Human. No one can say they would have been different...I bet there are others too, probably killed themselves."

She glanced up at the corpse. "To see the world in nothing but rage filled eyes, to know that there was no real reason for being that way, to be in so much pain no matter where it was and what it did...that is not a fate I would wish upon my worst enemy."

Her voice was quite even when she spoke, but an iron tenor hunger below the words, each one enunciated carefully. "Of course it thanked you..."

Now she sighed and shook her head. "But it doesn't matter, not anymore. It's soul is Dira's to do with what she pleases."

Now Tinnok gave a snort of air, seemingly upset about something different. "You should have at least made an effort to keep me at a distance, Eagle. I do not wish to think the way some of your clan mates will look differently upon you after this event...regardless of whether they see me as having proved my worth." It all came back to that day, when the Eagle and Wolf had just begun their friendship, seen how she used her gifts and had stood up to the Tigress and Ioxera. How a bitter smile alighted on her face to think that all members of that talk were dead save them two. Why did he always struggle against immutable facts, as if everyone's eyes would open the way his had? Would it require every Myrian falling in love with a more accessible half breed for them to accept someone like her? Tinnok smirked at the thought of it.

Other words filtered through her head, words of a wise old healer that had saved her life, and Tinnok's smile faded. She glanced at him. Suddenly she wanted very much for him to leave, for her to be back in her own copse of woods, alone, without the petulant stares and muttered curses. She was far too tired, far too weary, to deal with the thoughts and memories floating around her mind then, and her whole body seemed to slump with exhaustion.

She attempted to rise, fell, then gritted her teeth and tried again, the motion slower than a 95 year old legless matriarch. Once she was upright she could have collapsed right back upon the ground. "I...I should return to my cot, I can barely...do anything. I suspect you need the rest too, aye Eagle?" She smiled, but it did not reach the cold eyes whose vigor had not yet full returned, though she could not resist offering him a hand up, realizing even this simple gesture could be misconstrued by every set of eyes watching them while pretending to go about on daily tasks.

[Razkar]

"You should have at least made an effort to keep me at a distance, Eagle. I do not wish to think the way some of your clan mates will look differently upon you after this event...regardless of whether they see me as having proved my worth."

There was a shuffling from her side that Wolf recognized as annoyance, but it was being held back. The wounded, hobbling male just rolled his eyes and scratched under his chin... Goddess, he needed to shave. He almost had a beard poking through the bottom half of his face.

"Oh, shut up, female," he rumbled without real rancor, just a kind of exhaustion, "You sound like my petching father. I'm not going to fawn over you, I just... wanted to make sure my comrade was healing properly."

It was a thin premise, very thin, but she did not press him on it. The brief silence gave Razkar a chance to ponder her words. Perhaps being one with the Green Goddess had gifted Wolf with some deeper knowledge, because she was never so... cerebral, beforehand. Though he had to admit, he found her pity for the monster somewhat naive.

They are the enemy, he reminded himself, adding another layer to that unshakable rock of Myrian hatred deep in his soul, and they would torture and devour every living thing in the jungle, from the dirt to the tree tops, if they had the chance and the numbers.

"I...I should return to my cot, I can barely...do anything. I suspect you need the rest too, aye Eagle?"

Her words snapped him out of his reverie, as did her unsteady, halting movement. Eagle clenched his jaw and balled his fists, forcing himself not to help her. The same rules applied: it would show an undue familiarity to his clan, and it would grievously insult her.

Which, he supposed, was half the joke when he looked up and saw her offering a hand.

Razkar looked at it with a satirical expression, following it up and over bandages and healing bruises until obsidian met gold.

"Are you joking, female? We both my my fat arse would rag your stick figure frame down in a twinkling..."

And so he began his own laborious and (if he's honest) somewhat pathetic attempts. It was a queer combination of rolling, jerking, lifting and crawling that finally put his weight on his undamaged leg and moved him to something resembling upright. He was sure he heard titters and his glaring eyes snapped around just fast enough to see his bloody brothers running away laughing.

Wolf started walking. Eagle was by her side at a respectful distance.

"We'll be feasting tonight. That thing-" he jerked a thumb back at the looming monster behind them "-will feed the entire clan, probably. My fang will be there, my family, myself, and you."

Her head snapped around at the entrance of Ruwama's spacious hut, the Shorn Skulls' makeshift healing station, and Razkar's hand flashed up dismissively.

"You will insult me and my clan if you do not attend. You had as much a hand in the monster's death as me. You deserve the honor for that."

Wolf let his burning gaze fall back to the creature, wondering if she caught the inference. He had already accepted the fact that Wolf, his friend and comrade, would never be accepted by his people. They were too hateful, too narrow in their thinking... and, he had to admit, they'd been proven rightly so too many times to change. But for one night, or even one bell, they would honor her achievement.

And after, they would forget her. But it would have been so.

Now Razkar's eye rested on the huge, heavy skull of the Dhani. His eyes narrowed and he wondered... yes... the shape looked good enough. Solid enough. Easily capable of fitting over his own head...

"What do you know of the Power of Bones, Wolf?"

[Tinnok]

The invitation surprised her initially, but after a moment she realized it shouldn't have. In theory, even if bringing her into it, not offering some reward in the form of food to the abomination, would do more dishonor to the Shorn Skulls than it would her. It would speak of not holding up their end of the deal. She had risked her life for their clan...in turn it was the least, and probably only thing they were truly obligated to do.

And it would be quite the insult not to attend. The idea of food did not sit well with Tinnok, already the strange slush in her stomach did not seem to sit well, but she knew it was the thought that counted in these strange rituals. And so she gave a nod of understanding. She would go. Once again...not for them, but for him. She decided not to state that though...she had already said it once.

When he asked her of the power of bones Tinnok gave pause. "I do not...at least not much" She put a thumb to her chin. "I know that one...draws out the spirit of the dead, or something, taking the power of...." She smirked. "That's all I got."

She remembered a blade with a handle that the Eagle had mentioned in passing, but wasn't sure the ins and outs of it, and it was actually surprising to her that Eagle himself would practice such a strange form of magic.

"I have always wanted to tamper with magic..." She said thoughtfully and to no one in particular, mind drifting off. Eyes followed his gaze to the head of the creature.

"What do you plan on doing with it?"