She's a Maneater(Mao)

[Hatot]

41st Day of Summer, 510 A.V.

Mid morning brought with it a increase in the heat as he air became thick with humidity, making breaths feel heavy to draw in. Hatot stood out in the center of a clearing near Sanctuary, east of the gardens, his frame still and silent as his eyes remained closed and his head lowered. He had abandoned his armor and shirt due to that heat and still sweat rolled down his upper body. Drops of sweat dripped down from the tip of Hatot’s nose as he drew slow deep breaths in through his nostrils, and from his chin when exhaling through his mouth. In front of him stood one of his practice dolls attached to a wooden post. It’s skin was a hemp fabric, the flesh under the skin a mixture of cotton, wool and feathers, it’s bones thick copper wires. In Hatot’s right hand, he gripped his lakan, the blade curving downward in front of his fist.

A long moment of silence passed as Hatot continued to remain motionless, breathing in and out slowly as a hot breeze slid over his skin, carrying his scent to with it. His eyes then suddenly opened wide, his brow knotting up as his body rushed forward towards the doll. His right hand suddenly rushed forward, moving in a blur as the blade of the lakan suddenly sliced through the right shoulder of the doll. Hatot’s body spun around, ducking underneath one of the extended arms as his heals dug through the ground before he stood up, bringing the lakan upward to slice through the elbow joint of the doll before it was brought back down, stabbing the tip of the blade through the bicep, his left hand suddenly thrusting fingers into the ribs of the doll itself. Hatot’s body then spun again, circling behind as he stabbed the tip of the lakan again into the left shoulder blade of the doll. He pulled the blade free, spinning around again as he ducked down, slicing along the doll’s left achillies tendon before continuing his spin and standing, the palm of his left hand slapping along the left side of the training doll’s head. Finally, Hatot forced the blade of his lakan forward into the chest of the doll in a punching motion, before dragging it upward until his arm was hovering overhead for a moment. Then with one final stabbing motion downward, Hatot brought the tip of his lakan down into the nook of the training dolls neck.

Hatot then remained motionless for a moment, his eyes closing again as he slowly pulled the blade free and taking a step back. His eyes open, slowly inspecting the damage he had done in his flurry of strikes as his lakan was slid back into it’s sheath. His fingers slowly slid over the first couple of cuts made. “They’re shallow, you’re still being too soft.” Radris suddenly echoed. “The only real damaging attacks with the lakan you made were with the stabs and your slash to the chest, the others were superficial. We haven’t got a lot of time before we head out on our Rite, and you won’t be killing a Zith with those attacks.”

“Our hand to hand combat skills should be enough to carry us through against one Zith, I think.” Hatot echoed back, still looking over the practice doll.

“We have to slay it with the Lakan though.” Radris commented back.

“The Lakan is the only weapon we’re allowed to bring, that doesn’t mean we have to slay the Zith with it.” Hatot replied.

“I thought I was the one who looked for loopholes?” Radris teased in sarcastic voice.

“You are not the only one with a clever mind, Radris.” Hatot echoed.

“No, but I am the only one with the good looks between us.” Radris retorted.

Hatot just gave a slow sigh, standing up slowly as he shook his head. “I don’t think I even have a comment as to how stupid that statement really is.” Hatot echoed back.

“So’s your face.” Radris echoed.

[Mao]

Navis had gone on some inexplicable journey somewhere, leaving Mao sitting and wondering and completely and utterly lacking of anything to do. The day had been long drawn out and too calm for someone of her nature, and her wounds had forced her to be bedridden for the past several weeks from her encounter with glassbeaks. Now that her stitches had healed, she was able to morph to her human guise, although she much rather suited her jaguar form in every aspect. But to humor Kavala, and the rest of the people that lived there, she would oblige and communicate as she rightly should, even with the irritating strap of leather tightened around her neck. Another hindrance. That morning, Mao had crawled out of bed with little enthusiasm, but she hadn’t been able to sleep much for the past several days. Rubbing her blurred eyes, she tugged on a simple green halter top and leggings (all the while grumbling about the silly clothes she had to wear during these hot days), then stumbled out into the clearing in the center of Sanctuary. It was morning, but already Mao could smell the excitement of the animals that dwelled here. They were far more awake than she, but that can’t be helped when the night was a primary time for her. And then something caught her attention; the sounds of training, two objects colliding, a blade? The breeze brought the familiar scent of Hatot. Ahh, the Akalak Kavala had spoken of. The one who had saved the konti from the raging jaguar that night many weeks ago. It didn’t take the kelvic long to find Hatot. She followed the trail of his scent, listened to the swipes of the lakan, and in the end, she found herself sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees and watching the Akalak train quite admirably under the relentless heat of the sun. Something clicked in her mind. She wanted to learn, if she was going to be trapped in this human body for this long. Learn how to fight as she was rather than in her panther body. When Hatot finished his little bout of training, Mao spoke up from her position several feet away. “Will you teach me? To fight like you do, I mean.” She didn’t move from where she was, instead she gave him a deviate smile. “If I’m going to be stuck like this, I’d rather learn the ways of…what is it called? Martial art?” She stood then, inspecting the doll Hatot had mauled to the brink with his blade, relating it to her own claws.

[Hatot]

Hatot slowly turned, his gaze falling to Mao as she spoke. His head slowly tilted, watching for the usual signs angst she usually displayed. Instead, she stood, slowly walking towards the practice doll and inspecting it. “Well, if it isn’t the angry kitten.” Radris echoed as he gave a slow grumble. “I think we should get a ball of yarn and throw it at her as a distraction.”

“Perhaps, but you forget that in Riverfall, we are first and foremost, teachers.” Hatot echoed back as his hands cupped together behind his back, looking over Mao curiously. “I didn’t even know you liked to play with kittens and yarn though, Radris.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.” Radris suddenly echoed. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard you say.”

“So’s your face.” Hatot echoed back.

“Damn it.” Radris echoed in a flustered voice. “Walked right into that one.”

Hatot slowly began pacing around the doll as Moa continued to inspect it, his gaze still traveling curiously over her. Finally, he paused beside her, another moment of silence passing. “Stuck like this, you say?” Hatot then said to her. “I believe I once harbored such feelings, for years in fact.”

Hatot then let another moment of silence pass by, not yet ready to give his answer to her request. Mao, with her temperament and impulsive nature guided by wild instinct, was already dangerous. Kavala was taking steps in order to help Mao with such, but in the end Hatot needed to learn about Mao a little further. Radris saw the deep rage that Mao practically yelled out, much like he had spotted Kavala’s hidden rage deep within her. Unlike Kavala, however, Mao didn’t bury it deep within, but always wore it on the surface, even when she seemed calm. A being who could turn to violence at the blink of an eye. It was something that caused Hatot to have reservations about teaching her.

“Tell me, Mao,” Hatot then said, his hands still cupped behind his back in a neutral manner, “why is it you rebel so hard against half of what you are?”

[Puck]

Hatot_______ Skills Lakan 1 Lore Training for the Rite of Passage Mao_______ Lore Making the best of a bad situation Notes_______ I demand it to be longer! Finish for more Experience if you wish.