Closed Predator and Prey

[Tani]

514AV, 63rd Day of Spring

Whatever the plan was, things were resolutely refusing to go according to it.

Tani Glassrider, once-Drykas and escaped Rajor slave, regarded the meagre results of the previous evening's hunt with an expression more frequently found on the faces of funeral guests. A half-cooked potato stared back from her palm; faintly-green, impartial, and entirely impervious to her attempts to will it into a form that was a more suitable reflection of her efforts. She almost tossed it into the oozing swamp beneath her in exasperation, but some instinct – forged among the tents of the Horse Lords - stayed her hand. Food, even food scavenged from the refuse pits, was too precious to throw away.

No matter how much she ached to do just that.

She was a hunter and a tracker, a stalker and a predator of the highest calibre. Yet, the best she could produce for her efforts was a single, near inedible, excuse for a vegetable! It was vexing. The plantations had stepped up security in the days since her escape – or perhaps she had simply underestimated them to begin with. The swamplands, useful as they were for concealment, had proven limited in their capacity to provide for her. As much as she hated to admit it, she had never seen a swamp before her arrival in Kenash, much less tried to survive in one. The smells, tracks and trails of the creatures here were all horribly unfamiliar to her. An earlier attempt at tracking prey through the mud had only led her to a strange multi-coloured creature that clung to the side of a mangrove and oozed a pungent fluid from its skin when she poked it. She'd left that alone. Her other attempts at hunting had yielded equally disappointing results. Finally, tired of lying low, she'd searched for other options to sustain her until she spotted an opportunity to scavenge in the city itself.

So, she'd turned on the ones who had fancied themselves her masters. There was a plantation house not far from the marshy territory she had begun to regard as her home; a large, extravagant affair, carefully-tended to by too many slaves for her to count. Food was thrown away almost daily, and that which was not was occasionally distributed among the slaves working the fields. She had not been able to locate the waste from the house itself – just getting close enough to see it meant venturing closer to a life in chains than she was comfortable with – but that precious little that remained uneaten by the slaves was carried to the perimeter of the estate and buried. The potato in her palm had been a rare find from just such a heap.

It wasn't enough to travel. It wasn't even enough to survive. Her original plan of stealing enough food to be able to make the journey to the Sylira border was rapidly falling apart. Worse yet, the pathetic little vegetable may have cost her far more than a wasted evening. She wasn't certain, but she thought someone may have seen her slinking back into the swamp, potato clenched between her jaws. She had little grounds to the suspicion – an implied flash of hasty movement behind her that was more felt than seen – but it was enough to unnerve her and dissuade her from any further attempts that night. It had been twilight, and she had shifted, but even so... Even she had to admit that potato-ferrying was not usual feline behaviour. It shouldn't have been enough to prompt suspicion, though. Not unless you were familiar with kelvics.

She ran a hand over the smoke cloud brand on her face. The skin still ached to touch, but it no longer woke her in the night, as it had in the weeks before her escape. There were still some small mercies in the world.

Paranoia and restlessness eventually got the better of her, and she dropped the few feet from the mangrove to the mud beneath. The swamp rose up to meet her, watery mud curling around her ankles. It was grossly uncomfortable, but it had been successful so far in hiding her scent from those who would pursue her – and for that she was grateful. The cotton shirt she had fled Rajor in was similarly mud-caked, as were the rest of her possessions – which amounted to little more than the potato. She'd finished the last of the food she had escaped with that morning, and the sack she had carried it in had been strung between the mangrove branches to provide her with a seat or bed for the day, as her form and whim dictated.

Untying the bag was a matter of a few ticks. Navigating the swamp; however, would be a matter of bells. She stuck to the branching roots of the mangroves where she could, but leaving some trail in the mud as she progressed was inevitable – and shifting would have meant leaving behind what little she had. The trails would likely fade within a day, but that was a day too long as far as Tani was concerned. Still, she pushed on, angling toward the distant crashing of the ocean, navigating under little direction save that she travel further from those who had pressed an iron to her face.

Maybe there she would find somewhere to rest for the day.

[Jay Ackina]

Syna stretched her fingers across the sky, the early morning rays streaming through the window, slowly working their way across the room. The light crept to the foot of the lavish bed and across the silk sheets until it touched the face of a young man lying sprawled out across the soft mattress.


Jay shifted in his bed, brown hair tousled in every direction from his slumber. The Ackina blinked blurrily, wincing as the morning light crossed his face. He groaned as he was dragged from his restless slumber, the memory of his dream quickly fading from his mind. Something about it seemed important but after a few moments he sighed in frustration and gave up trying to remember the details.


Sleep was not an easy task for the Dynasty member. It was something of a luxury for the insomniac to get a full night’s sleep. His restlessness usually drove him to wander the swamp edge or plantation grounds under the pale glow of Leth until his body finally gave in to exhaustion and allowed him a few hours respite before the coming morning. It left him overtired and sluggish upon waking but it was something he had grown used to.


Jay sighed again and swung his legs over the bed frame. There was no point in trying to fall back asleep. He was awake now; he might as well make the most of it. The naked man stood and slowly got dressed for the day. A few chimes later, Jay walked through his bedroom door clad in a fine linen tunic, leather breeches and knee high boots. His stomach growled at him irritably, demanding nutrients for the day. The dull thud of his boots resounded across the varnished wood floor as he made his way to the back of the house where the kitchen lay.


Something felt off as the Ackina made his way through the hallway as was his custom. Usually the kitchen staff was busy preparing breakfast for the Dynasty family early in the morning. The clattering of pans and usual chatter of slaves working would greet him as he stepped through the door. His morning ritual included chatting with the kitchen slaves, teasing them and nimbly stealing food from them as they playfully swatted at him with their cooking utensils. But today, the kitchen was silent. As he approached, the sound of muffled voices drifted through the silent hallway. A sound only heard when people were doing their best to remain quiet.


Jay narrowed his eyes and his instincts told him to be silent and try to hear what they were talking about through the half closed door. He slowly crept forward, avoiding all the spots where he knew the floor boards creaked until he was beside the kitchen door and pressed his ear against the crack in the door. One of the voices spoke in a hushed voice forcing Jay to listen intently. He only caught bits and pieces as her voice faded in and out with her breathless retelling of the story. It was enough to pipe his curiosity.


"Night…outside…food…cat…potato...escaped…”


What? Cat? Potato? What was a cat doing with a potato?…Cats don’t eat vegetables…They're predators...They eat meat...Unless…


Suddenly it struck him. The cat was a kelvic. That’s why the slaves in the kitchen were so quiet about it. They didn’t want anyone to know they knew about an escaped slave. He wondered if it was one of their own. A line creased his brow as he frowned, thoughts whirling in his mind. He hoped none of their slaves had been stupid enough to try and escape. The punishment was not worth fleeing if they were caught.


Jay was jerked out of his reverie as he leaned a little too heavily against the door causing the hinges to squeak loudly. Every head snapped in his direction, a sharp intake of breath the only sound before complete silence filled the room. Knowing the time for stealth was up; Jay swung the door open and stepped through.


It was like looking at a herd of deer caught eating in the garden. Wide-eyed stares, frozen in fear, all unable to look away from him. No one moved, each too terrified at what his reaction might be, none knowing what he heard, each too afraid to ask. They knew him well enough to know he would never physically hurt them. He wasn’t like the rest of the Dynasty members. Some were better than others. They knew that Jay went out of his way to befriend them and treat them with kindness.


But that didn’t change the fact that he was Dynasty born and had a duty to fulfill for the family; especially considering his line of work.


Jay slowly closed the door behind him, the heavy wooden panel squeaking loudly as it turned on its hinges, seeming to take forever to shut completely. The door closed with a loud thump causing everyone in the room to jump at the noise. His face was impossible to read, his features completely neutral, devoid of emotion. Jay let his eyes rest coolly on one member of the kitchen crew for a few ticks before settling on another.


Than another...


And another...


He clasped his hands behind him, letting the silence do the talking for him. Sooner or later, one of them would panic and spill their guts. He wouldn’t even have to say a word.


The silence in the room began to grow almost unbearable. Jay could almost feel their insides tightening, their fight or flight mechanism mere ticks away from exploding. He felt a twinge of pity for them and decided to show mercy. Jay released them from whatever needless guilt they were feeling. He had no intentions of having them punished. They were only discussing what they saw happen among themselves. As long as they didn’t help the slave escape they wouldn’t have anything to worry about.


Jay’s kind voice seemed to trigger an explosion of air from the lungs of everyone in the room as the tension was drained.


“Who wants to tell me what you guys were talking about before I came in?”


The Ackina allowed his face to soften and his shoulders to relax as he walked over to the center of the room and hopped onto the table, hands resting lightly on each side. He hoped they would mimic his attitude and feel more at ease. But he was met with silence again. He looked at them passively, waiting for a response. When none were forth coming, he spoke normally, as if they were discussing the weather.


“C’mon guys. As long as none of you helped him escape, you won’t get in trouble. I just want to know what you guys were talking about. You know how dangerous it is out there in the swamps. I just want to make sure they don’t get hurt. So please? Tell me what happened?”


The kitchen staff looked at one another uneasily. Finally, they seemed to come to a silent agreement. Mahilda stepped forward and looked at the ground as she spoke.


“I was outside last night, dumping the day’s discarded food like I do every night. As I was about to come back inside, I saw a black cat close to the swamp edge. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it but I noticed it had something in its mouth. It was round, kind of odd shaped. It looked like a-a…potato."


She stopped and squirmed nervously. Mahilda looked up at Jay. “I think it was a kelvic. Why else would a cat be eating a vegetable? If the kelvic was new and didn’t know how to hunt in the swamp, the person’s best bet would be to eat whatever food it could find.”


Jay nodded. What the kitchen slave said made sense. It must have escaped from one of the plantations. Even if it hadn’t, it wasn’t safe out in the swampland. The kelvic could easily be killed or eaten.


“Where did you see it last?” Mahilda quickly stepped towards the backdoor and pointed towards the edge of the swamp. Jay hopped down from the table and went to the door he came from. He swung it open and looked back.


“Thank you guys for being honest with me. I’m going to try and find the kelvic. Let’s keep this between me and you for now, okay?” Jay quickly ran back to his room and threw on his gloves, leather jacket, snatched up his net and strapped on his sword. He began to head out of his room but stopped as he remember something. Jay hurried over to his chest and throw open the lid. He reached inside and pulled out a set of small wrist manacles. He attached them to his belt, making sure they didn't clank together. The Ackina swiftly made his way back to the kitchen, grabbed some raw meat and threw it in a small bag before attaching it to his belt and running out the door.


A few chimes later, he was standing at the edge of the swamp. Jay took a deep breath and dove in head first hoping to find the escaped kelvic before it was too late.

[Tani]

Beady eyes glared at her across a pool of brackish water, the giant lizard sizing up this newest intruder to its realm. Unlike the creatures of the grasslands it did not seem to take immediate offence to her presence, content to sit upon the bank opposite her, motionless as a fallen tree. It was a concession she was grateful for – even if the look in those reptilian eyes was less than friendly. Pale scales caught the early morning sun that was slowly baking the mud bank upon which the creature sat, unseen muscles rippling beneath an armoured exterior riddled with scars. Had the predator's – and the impressive rows of teeth set in its jaw told her it was a predator - lower half not been slathered with a generous coating of mud, Tani could imagine the scales glinting beneath the sickly rays that managed to filter through the dense tree-line above. The sun was remarkably weak here – more a splotchy memory of light that darted and hid in deceptively deep pools, ceding most of its territory to a hesitant half-darkness, rather than the true daylight that bathed the grasslands.

A clear line of scar tissue ran across the lizard's tail, the wound unlike any natural battle-scar she had ever seen. It was too clearly defined to be the product of claw or tooth – claw wounds were usually ragged, biting into skin and then tearing, rather than the smooth lines she saw here. She'd inflicted enough of them herself to be fairly sure of that point. Bite wounds... She glanced at the mass of scar tissue lurking at her left elbow. Bite wounds were different. Besides, the only animals she knew of that possessed talons powerful enough to inflict that sort of damage were usually far too busy hunting in the grasslands. The thought of sharing the swamp with a glassbeak was too unpleasant to contemplate.

Perhaps the wound had been inflicted by the Rujaro? The thought sent a shiver of expectation shuddering up her spine. There had been rumours of the runaways back at the Rajor plantation; an organised band of resistance fighters, escaped slaves who lurked in the marsh, waiting for the chance to bring freedom to the slaves and death to their captors. Stories, whispered from one captive to another between prison bars, spoke of the rebels latest exploits with a fervent hope that verged on religious. Only ever whispers, though. The taskmaster's whips had seen to that. Tani hadn't believed it. If there were people fighting, why hadn't they come for the Rajor? How did they survive? She'd brushed the ideas off as nothing more than a self-sustaining daydream, something to give hope to those who would never gather up the courage to attempt their own escape, instead waiting like good little slaves for a fictional band of rebels to emerge from the swamplands and tell them it would all be alright. But if there was something more to them... If she wasn't as alone out here as she thought...

“Hello?” Her voice, barely more than a whisper drifted across the marsh – first in pavi, then in common. If there was someone there, she needed to know. Silence stretched on for what felt like hours, then – Nothing. No answering call, no squelch of feet on the mud. No escaped slaves emerging from the foliage to welcome her to a life of freedom, to ferry her on her way to her bondmate. Only the constant buzzing of insects, voicing their frustration at the layer of mud between them and her flesh. Perhaps if she tried a little louder-

No. She reigned in the renegade trail of thought. If there were other escapees out here, they had done nothing to make their presence known to her. Nothing to help her. She hadn't heard anything in the marsh behind her, and was increasingly certain that she wasn't been trailed but false hope was just as likely – no, more likely – to get her killed out here as it had on the plantation. An escaped slave, wandering around calling for help? That sort of behaviour was stupid, even for prey. Who ever heard of a rabbit announcing itself to a fox on the hunt, hoping to ask him for directions to the nearest burrow? If the Rujaro had passed through here, they were long gone, and she would be wise to do the same. Even so, she could not entirely suppress the fact that the world seemed a little brighter in a way that had nothing to do with the rising sun.

Slowly, lethargically, like a boulder rolling into motion, the big reptile slipped into the pool between them. Tani took a handful of frantic steps back in surprise as the entirety of the creature's length – almost twice as long as she was tall – vanished beneath the still water like a length of rope retreating up a conjurer’s sleeve. It didn't seem right, that such a tiny pool of water could hold such a massive creature. The pool looked no different from the ankle-depth puddle she found herself standing in – if not for the lizard, she could just as easily stumbled straight in. The thought of brackish water closing over her still-struggling limbs wasn't a pleasant one. She took another pace back from the pool, just to be sure, and watched it for a time – waiting for the lizard to re-emerge.

It didn't.

She cocked her head to one side, watching the still water. How did it survive down there? Did it breathe the water? She decided that it must. No creature would drown so appallingly casually. Then again, maybe its armoured hide had dragged it to the bottom like a stone – than, shouldn't she have seen ripples? The surface was still as motionless as the sheltered waterholes that dotted the grasslands, shielded from the wind's touch.

Finally, when the drone of the insects in her ear grew intolerable, she snapped a dying branch from a nearby mangrove, resolving to probe the puddles ahead of her for further hidden lakes. The tree groaned in protest, but it was a fleeting sound amid a backdrop of tiny wings, and it quickly faded into silence. The branch was a little short, and she had to stoop a to reach the marsh floor, but it was better than nothing. One eye still on the eerily still water, Tani left the pool behind her – continuing towards the crashing waves in the distance, and the implied promise of water.

[Jay Ackina]

Stepping into the swampland was almost like stepping through a portal into another dimension. Silence seemed to stifle sound as the thick trees swallowed him whole, cutting him off from the rest of the outside world. Yet at the same time, even more sounds seemed to fill the air. Sights and smells overwhelmed the tracker’s senses as he dived into the familiar landscape. Jay paused to gather his bearings as he began to plot out his first step.


Alright, if I were a cat, lost in the swamps, where would I go…


Jay had always pitied the slaves who decided their lives were better off lived as a fugitive, alone in the desolate, unforgiving marsh. There was a dark; foreboding feeling that seemed to lurk over ones shoulder, leaving the uncomfortable feeling that someone was watching them. It was not a place anyone should call home. There was a beauty to the swamplands but it was one that was better off admired from a distance.


First things first, I need to find the trail…they said it was a small cat so any paw prints are going to be incredibly small. They won’t be very deep either…


Jay carefully scanned the ground for any signs of the kelvic’s passage. Tracking wasn’t his strong suit, yet it was vital to his profession. His mentor and trainer Bael always told him to put himself in the shoes of those he was tracking. If he could find out information about the slave he was tracking before he started the hunt, such as their personality and state of mind, he could determine what they might be feeling when they fled.


Emotions usually determined the actions of the escapee. If a slave was terrified, they usually left a wide trail of devastation in their attempts to flee. Or if they were known to be calm and collect, they usually tended to be more careful, leaving far less clues in their wake. This time, however, Jay had no information about the fugitive, all he had were his instincts and gut feelings. Hopefully fate would be kind to him.


Nothing seemed to jump out at him from the surrounding foliage. Asides from his own presence, nothing seemed to have passed through. The Ackina Dynasty member slowly began picking his way through the flora, boots squelching through the moist ground. Brown eyes examined the ground in front of him, looking for any divots or broken branches littering the floor. Jay walked along the forest edge, making slow but steady progress.


After a few chimes of fruitless efforts, his time consuming efforts were rewarded. Jay’s eyes passed over a shrub but whipped back as they caught sight of something caught in the branches. The tracker moved over to the bush and crouched down resting one arm on his knee. He examined the foliage carefully, examining his first possible clue. A tuff of black fur was snagged on a thorn. Jay looked at the surrounding bushes and ground, hoping to find any bent grass but everything seemed normal.


Hmm…who’s ever fur this is must not have passed through here recently. If the kitchen staff saw the cat move through here last night, it lines up.


Jay examined the ground, looking for any paw prints to give him more of a direction but luck seemed to turn her face from him for the time being. The Ackina looked towards the forest edge and then traced a line with his eyes, intersecting the patch of fur and maintaining a straight line as he looked deeper into the swamp. It would have to do, it was all he had as a lead. Jay stood and dusted off his knees before facing the swamp in the direction he assumed the kelvic had run off in.


It wasn’t much of a lead but it was all he had. He hesitated.


Maybe I should keep looking for more of a lead…that fur could be anything…No. Stop it. Don’t second guess yourself.


Bael's words echoed in his mind.


Trust your instincts.


Jay took a deep breath, steadying his racing thoughts. His lack of tracking expertise caused him to doubt his ability to find his prey. But he couldn’t let the doubts throw him off track know.


His gut said go.


So he went.

[Tani]

Mangrove after mangrove passed by her, Tani placing her feet carefully to avoid the roots that rose from the ground like warrior's spears. The sight bore a startling resemblance to a pit trap she had known some of the hunters to use - seen in the swamp, it gave her the uncomfortable impression that the entirety of the swamp was nothing more than a tremendous snare, patiently waiting for her to put a foot wrong before sliding closed around her and claiming her for itself. So far she had managed to avoid placing a foot on one of the spikes, but it had slowed her progress to a crawl. Running here would have left her bare feet with more holes than a poorly-made tent.

She slipped around a particularly bright patch of sunlight, clinging to the shade of the trees. Some part of her, still tied to the grasslands, loathed the thought of illuminating herself like that. Since she made her escape from the Rajor plantation she had found herself slipping back into her old habits like a well worn set of shoes. Her approach was simple enough. The day was for sleep - nestled in a mangrove well above the sucking mud and the creatures that skulked and slid through it. The night; though, the night was for hunting. The dark sheltered her and hid her, enveloping her in its grasp like a warm cloak that promised safety just by its presence. Beneath the cover of night she felt invincible, powerful. Invisible. Tani worshipped no god, but if she did, it would have been the shadows that drew her homage.

On the upside, the creeping sun bought with it some relief from the buzzing insects. It was part of the reason she could sleep during the day.

She jumped from one twisting root to another over a smattering of root-spikes, hands clutching at the branches stretching above her to steady her. She staggered forward and had to grip the tree to prevent her from falling, but it was faster than picking her way through the mud, one agonising pace at a time. She scooped her stick from the tree's base where it had fallen when she jumped. Besides, jumping was an excuse to tug her feet from the mud. More accurately, it was an excuse to pull two large, mud coated hunks of flesh from the swamp that only vaguely resembled feet, courtesy of their apparent connection to her legs.

Walking through the swamp, the sight of her toes was becoming an increasingly rare occasion. She scraped off what mud she could with the stick and almost immediately wished she hadn't. Her feet were swollen, as though she'd taken a long swim, and the smell that reached her nose was a long way from pleasant. She curled her nose and edged across the next root, using the stick to brace her. There was little she could do about it now, save wait for clean water and a chance to wash them.