Flashback Howl (Tarukko)

[Tinnok]

HOWL
14th of Spring, 500 A.V.

Equal parts excitement and anxiousness roiled in the teenage half breed's stomach as she set off across the jungle floor with a grouping of her clan. Krisha headed the grouping, Tinnok's older sisters Reina and Vespar a respectful distance away, flanking their mother in a position of the foremost hunters on their journey. Behind them three males came as well, and behind them...trailed the unwanted Tinnok.

A world away young girls might long for new clothes, a pet horse, or a wink from a cute boy, but Tinnok had longed for this day as others grew excited for Myri's birthday or the coming of the Monsoons. She had only gotten to glance at the Blackened Claw's expansive Morphing zoo once, and always perked up at any stories of the exploits and viciousness of the clan. To her they embodied everything she longed to be, wise and powerful enough to live free in the wilds, away from the city for days, weeks, months apart from other Myrians if they had enough skill. When the chance came to go on a hunt with them Tinnok prepared herself as best as she could, which was a hard task for the unwanted and strange looking Myrian half breed. It meant doing an excessive amount of chores, waking up well before daylight, avoiding the gaze of her mother whenever possible, making sure never to talk back to her siblings or other clan mates no matter how much she wanted to.

The good thing was, her skills spoke for themselves. She was handy with a bow, skilled with her daggers, and not too shabby at tracking. Her hunting skills left much to be desired, but that was why she so desperately sought the experience, and despite Krisha's seeming hatred of showing her daughter to any clans, it seemed that the benefits of taking her on the hunt outweighed the risks and begrudgingly she was allowed to come.

So even with bags under her eyes and the sense she hadn't slept in a fortnight, Tinnok's golden eyes glowed with the promise this day held as the small Tempered Steel grouping trekked out to the edge of their clan lands where they were slated to meet the Blackened Claws.

When they arrived Krisha lifted her hands to her mouth, wavering them a little to coax a warbling bird trill from betwixt her lips, her posture the essence of a proud Myrian warrioress. A faint answering trill came, and Tinnok had to concentrate quite extremely to keep herself from wiggling with excitement at the thought that she would get the chance to hunt alongside the Blackened Claws.

c

[Tarukko]

Cat's eyes are strange things. Wide and watchful, they can look so innocent most times. Gaze into them and you will see no malice or hatred, no prejudice or disdain, the sins that mar the souls of "greater" beings. They view the world with such simplicity, observing everything with calm curiosity.

Tarukko learned young this truth; he learned soon after that made them no less vicious when the mood took them. Malice, hatred, prejudice, disdain, no... but compassion, mercy, tenderness for any not born to them? They were absent, too, and unlike hounds or birds, that could not be taught. A cat was loyal only as long as it had to be; Barbil was his lesson in that respect.

Now those same unblinking eyes watched the party approach their lands, high in a tree on the edge of them. Coils of taut muscle under yellow and black fur tensed and relaxed as the jaguar padded across its limb. The movements of it were almost serpentine in their fluidity, but... and you would have to look close and know what to look for... they were a facimilie.

A thick pink tongue lapped out lazily and licked its nose. He couldn't quite break that habit, ever since he'd seen Barbil to it. Back then, years before, it had been another method to better understand the mind of that which he wished to ape. Now it was his own.

The tall, severe warrior leading the visitors called out into the faceless greenery, and mere ticks later, it was answered. The jaguar smiled, for cats are known to be able to do such things. Faceless, but far from blind.

Not in Falyndar, and that went double for these lands.

"Well met, Krisha..."

The voice came first, of course. An old trick to unnerve your enemies: words without a mouth, intelligence without a face, so it seemed the jungle itself was taunting you. But Krisha was too old a warrior to be fazed by such, and merely rolled her eyes, just once.

"I see you have not lost your flare for the dramatic, Tamrak."

"Indeed..." The jaguar watched the shrubbery part a few yards from him, becoming alive with limbs and torsos and decorations muddied to hide their glint. "... I have not."

A line of Myrians were just... there. Many a time Tarukko had heard the elders tell well-worn but relished tales of fangs, war parties, even whole claws of Myri's Children appear as if by Her Will from the jungle, falling on an enemy with such speed and ferocity and numbers that it seemed like divine punishment. Which, in a way, it was. For what else would trespassers in Her domain warrant?

Tamrak stood in the center of it, white teeth stark against her tanned skin. Her husband Fendi stood at her side, but slightly behind, eyes slightly downcast as befitted a male among a meeting of worthy females. Tarukko's younger sister was there, too, and the rest were Blackened Claws who were... utterly unarmed.

Krisha knew why.

"I see also that you will be relying on... your talents, on this hunt."

The pause was slight, but Tamrak cocked an eyebrow at it anyway. Djed was hardly unheard of among Myrians, but Krisha had always been somewhat untrusting of it. A whole clan who were trained in them... it irked her, and Tamrak never let by a chance to needle her.

"Of course, sister. What better hunter than... a jaguar, say?"

The jaguar held its breath... but her eyes find him without difficulty. Head turning, gaze cranked up, piercing through leaf and branch and vine until... she looked him square in those feline eyes, and smiled wider.

"Come, my son. Tis rude to stare."

The Tempered Steel contingent saw a long, elegant form twist and climb through the foliage, dipping in and out of sight as it went, until it found a low branch and-

-the jaguar landed next to Tamrak with all the weight of a miza. The thing seemed to grunt, though, ruining the effect, though a couple of the Tempered Steel hunters instinctively grabbed for weapons at the sight of such a beast so close to them.

Krisha held up a lazy hand. All part of the show...

Then the air grew thick, foggy, all localized around that tail-twitching predator. After a tick it was clear it was not a trick of weather: it was the jaguar itself. Fur and claw and flesh underneath it roiled and boiled as if something inside it was struggling to escape, every inch of it shimmering and shifting. The thing - for it was no longer feline, not completely - growled lowly as if in concentration, and then... stood up.

As it did, the fur receded and brown, scarred skin replaced it. Leonine head was usurped by a stoic face, topped by a high topknot and dark eyes. There was nothing to hide the male's pride but mere ticks after the finality of the transformation was over and his skin had ceased to pulse and writhe-

Tarukko's sister rolled her eyes and tossed him a loincloth.

"Bring your petching own next time, male."

"Thank you, dearest sister."

[Tinnok]

Hers eyes darted to and fro, searching for the heroes of her night time stories. Watching, observing, the young half breed had grown quite adept at the task since often it was better not to speak and simply study. Her gaze flickered around the foliage, first low, then up on high, half expecting the bird call to be met with an actual bird. There was no bird, but sharp golden eyes did spot the feline form lazily watching the proceedings from up on high. Her lips quirked upward with wonder, knowing that this must be one of the hunters, wondering if they were male or female, and how long they had been up there. She had always heard along with the stories of the wonders of morphing, the horror stories, how people would forget their lives and simply be wild, or stay in a form so long they couldn't shift back, and when they did something would be changed, perhaps a horrible dis-figuration.

The warriors around her tensed when the Blackened Claws emerged from the jungle, she only grinned with pure joy, so far they were everything to which she had imagined. She barely heard the adults trading their greetings, eyes on the jaguar as it worked its way lazily down, landing somewhat gracefully on the ground, and returning to its human form. Tinnok knew of Kelvics, a well respected race amongst the walls of Taloba, when there were few that could claim such a title, she had even seen them shift, but she had never seen a morpher shift. It was strange...not like the mystical magical plumes of a Kelvic simply reforming in a few moments, with this you could see every change, the growing and shrinking of bones, the receding of fur, a non Myrian may have been disgusted by the display, but Tinnok was only further fascinated by the whole process.

She glanced from behind the initial ring of warriors with wide eyes, realizing of a sudden her attention and curiosity at the jaguar's gender had led her eyes to a spot that was most noticeably exposed. She sniffed and glanced away, ashamed for a moment, and thankful no one saw her eyes staring intently at that...region.

Krisha gave a wary smile at Tamrak and gestured to both of her daughters, introducing the members of the hunting party one by one.

"Tamrak, I do not believe either of my daughters have had the pleasure of meeting you, this is Reina, and Vespar." Each of the girls inclined their heads respectfully in turn, composed as their mother. The three males stepped forward after that introduction was out of the way and Krisha gestured to each one of them in turn.

"Ulak, Hatr, and Pol are experienced hunters, and all five of them were eager to hunt with your clan today..." A few abashed smirks and grins were shared between the two clans at her comment.

"...Though none so eager as Tinnok." The half breed stiffened, not having expected to even be noted in the introductions. As she was being mentioned after the three males, it was already clear of her low standing within the clan. She stepped forward slowly, uncertainly, eyes slowly rising, darting past the jaguar man, and glancing furtively at Tamrak before jumping to her mother for an explanation.

"She is a product of my womb, but with tainted blood. Despite her heritage she is skilled for her age, or I would not have brought her along. If she causes any trouble I have absolutely no qualms with you or your clan doling out punishment to her as you see fit."

Tinnok was torn between the compliments her mother bestowed upon her, and the simultaneous act of throwing her to the Akila Hounds. Not a hint of shame, nor pride showed upon Krisha's face, but it was why Tamrak had respect for the woman, she was honest and forthright, and it would do no good to have the Blackened Claws warriors questioning the girl's identity and purpose on their hunt.

After that news was received, Krisha moved on as succinctly as always, gesturing with Tamrak's approval for the two groups to move, the two clans mingling as they moved, Krisha taking the lead with Tamrak, proceeding with her own version of small talk.

"Our elders told us you had found good game, but sought our aid, is this because our prey is more dangerous, or simply to continue our amiable relations?"

As everyone began getting to know each other, a low level of chatter commencing, Tinnok let herself fall behind the rest of the group, trying t figure out how best to not get into trouble...

c

[Tarukko]

"More than just game, sister..."

Once the two groups meshed and started to walk, Tarukko assumed his proper place. Namely, behind anyone that didn't have something flapping between their thighs. Unburdened by any weapons, however, he didn't mind so much, face calm and serene as his eyes swept over the turgid jungle and their guests at the same time.

Such interesting devices they carried. Swords and axes, clubs and spears, bows and blowpipes and never was one device the same as the next. Even his layman's eye could not little modifications and eccentricities, reflective of the owner and the manner of their devising, he assumed.

He saw one female with a bandolier of knives across her chest, each one barbed and curved, handles etched with runes and patterns. Another carried a blowpipe as long as he body, also carved but in amazing detail, from the mouthpiece to the very tip, a Myrian saga played out on the wooden pole. He recognized a barbarian long sword with another female, but this one had been shortened and curved to be used in one hand, and the hand guard now looked like it had been fashioned from polished bone...

His eyes kept roving as his ears pricked, until he found someone trying very hard not to stare at him.

Ah. The abomination.

She held herself well, but back from everyone else. Tarukko recognized that trait at once: he carried it himself, after all. She was a world unto her own steps, blazing her own trail by her own abilities... and yet, she could not hide that look of pained longing in her yellow slit eyes. Not just the strangeness of the Blackened Claws, a couple of whom were morphing digits and hands and even faces fo the amusement of their guests (and just to show off), but the way everyone was... getting along.

Myrians had progressed so far since the Goddess-Queen had united them. Before the Great Sundering, before Her Light came to the jungle, the idea of two clans coexisting, hunting together, even meeting without thoughts of extermination... it would have been impossible. Suicidal. And now Tarukko saw that with a dash of civility, a hefty dollop of proper protocol and the iron will of Myri the Merciless disciplining them, two radically different clans could join forces on a hunt.

But not Tinnok. Not one who had been tainted.

Taru frowned minutely but kept his thoughts to himself. He'd been burned before when he assumed better of people than they deserved. Just because she was pitiful and lonely didn't mean she wasn't the spawn of the Dhani, and...

In hundreds of years, have our people met one who was not a monster? Not bent solely on inflicting pain and amassing power? There is a reason. Their wyrd is strong and the clan could learn much... but they are still the Ancient Enemy, and there is a reason for that.

Those yellow eyes found his during his little internal tete-a-tete, and the male blinked slowly at her... lids closed...

He focused. He drew the djed to his head, forward into his sockets... imagined Barbil when he was a cub, a young jaguar, then older... the eyes that stared at him with cold expectancy for eight long years... then, as if putting a lid on a pot-

-when his lids flicked back open, those same feline eyes that she had seen before in the trees looking back at her.

Tarukko allowed the ghost of a smile to crease his lips. Such a shame, really. A curious and apparently intelligent girl, marred forever by beastly blood. But 'twas the Will of Myri...

Then he heard his mother's voice and closed his eyes again, exhaling slowly and drawing the color and pigment from his eyes... brown orbs facing back out when he opened them again... listening to the females bringing up the front of the party speak.

"Oh?"

"We have found bodies. Animals. Birds. More than usual."

"Some predator, then?" Krisha snorted softly, eyes sparkling wryly. "I wouldn't have thought the Blackened Claws would have an issue with some poachers on your land."

Taru frowned as he listened. There was... a noise? Some distant pressure on his ears. Without form or tune, but growing...

"It is more than that." Tamrak said, iron-clad seriousness on his face telling Krisha that the time for jokes was passed. "One of our hunters nearly died two days past. Barely escaped it."

"Which is when you put out the call to us."

Taru felt his skin prickle from scalp to soles. He didn't like this. His wyrd roiled under his skin, reacting to his discomfort. Goddess on The Throne... what was that stench? And why was the noise getting louder?

"Escaped what?"

Face grim and determined, Tamrak stepped into the clearing... and the party behind the mounds of monkeys, lying like clumps of tattered, rotting meat, a raucous cloud of insects infesting each one like asteroids around some dead heavenly body. Lips stretched back from teeth in dead, frozen grimaces of shock and rage and agony, all of it useless against the monster that had hewn them in to and ripped meat from bone like a hungry man gnawing at a chicken bone.

Taru's eyes widened and the stories from the campfire came rushing back, and he knew why his parents had suspended the Hunts after Bizki cam running back from the jungle raving about-

"... One Who Swoops..."

Tamrak nodded gravely at the mounds, stretching out in irregular pattern from one side to the other, buzzing constellations of flies like markers above them. Dozens, scores had perished. Now the cacophony of the jungle had all but expired, the riot of beautiful chirps and calls and squeaks and cries that Taru so loved, all replaced by the deathly, deafening buzz from an army of feasting flies.

Tarukko's jaw tightened as outrage sought to war with his fear. He held tight to it as his mother finished.

"Yes. How it came here, we do not know, nor do we care. This is the edge of its territory. We are going to track it and pin it down, and you are going to kill it, Krisha. Together."c

[Tinnok]

It wasn't entirely her fault, looking at the jaguar man. He was treading in back, not socializing, as was she, it was only natural for her to stare at the single individual she had seen morph. He caught her staring, and she found herself transfixed, locked between a decision to look away or to continue staring, wondering which was better. To look away was to give away what little authority she possessed, but a sign of defiance could prove devastating to her later, the teen having learned that males especially would take advantage of her lower status as a disgraced female. This left her with her mouth somewhat open, staring at Tarukko, until he blinked, revealing his cat eyes. At first there was only a blank expression on her face, a short lifetime revealing that she had not been often shown kindness of any kind, which of course, he was quite aware. Then just as the male's gaze was about to turn away from her, her lips curled in an answer to their little joking secret, a faint glimmer in her eye that was the only evidence her life as a child had not been altogether squashed into an endless oblivion.

"Ya'Tago?" Krisha's rhetorical question was answered by the stench that soon assailed all of their nostrils. Suddenly the friendly candor that had passed among the two clans turned to wary caution. Tinnok recognized the smell, at least in part from her visit's to the Tskanna Training Yard, but something much more foul and rank that only grew as they walked assailed her. She noticed the growing hush of wildlife as well, the strange but poetic adage of death having the tendency repelling life showing itself as the ghost of a smile dropped from her face and she padded forward.

The second, and not to be last surprise of the day was Krisha's head turning around to make eye contact with the young half breed, signalling with a finger once their eyes had met. Understanding after a moment, Tinnok gave a nod as well as a half one to the jaguar man if he was looking, she then assumed a crouching position, keeping her eyes on a level between the ground and foliage around her as she concentrated on the most silent steps she could manage. Both clans began to fan out, and she extended past them, darting ahead of the even procession, as the smaller, nimbler scout.

The stench became much more apparent, even through the thick foliage, and it took only a few moments for her to stumble across the first mound that marked a Ya'tago's territory. Tinnok had to physically stop herself from making an audible sound of disgust, which would entirely negate her attempt at stealthiness as she came upon the mound. It was constructed from what seemed to be a few small deer, akila hounds, several birds, but these were the corpses that were easily identifiable, others had been rotting for some time, maggots having a field day of sections of meat clinging to bones and darkened rotting flesh. Feathers and fur collected around the bottom of the mound, Tinnok skirting past it, relieved that as she continued forward the stench dissipated somewhat.

She took her time, listening for something other than the gentle shifting of leaves against one another and the occasional distant bird call, the benefits of the wildlife fleeing becoming apparent for this hunt. She wondered how far this Ya'Tago's territory was spread out, some stories said that for old ones it could stretch for many miles, those ones skilled and strong enough to cut down any challengers. After half a bell Tinnok doubled back to report that there wasn't any eminent danger ahead, Krisha, not one for idle talk had fallen silent anyway, and this time Raina went up ahead to scout, Tinnok falling back into her original position, her thoughts torn between jaguar man and their potential prey, wondering how she would fair. There was no real fear in her, not with so many skilled hunters around her, instead her teenage mind was more focused upon a fear of looking bad compared to everyone else, such foolish naive worries.

It would take the group a while yet, to realize that at least in one sense were not the only hunters in this silent jungle field.
c

[Tarukko]

He knew what he had to do, but it was most definitely grudging. Taukko's face twisted into a disgusted grimace as the hunting party began to spread out into Ya'Tago territory, the stench of rot and decay ratcheting up with every step.

It was nauseating as a Myrian; Goddess alone knew how he would react in his favored, feline model. The male groused under his breath as he breathed in, willing his wyrd into his limbs as he got down on all fours.

"Keen senses work both ways..."

Then he was lost in the transformation, and blind to the looks and wide eyes from the other Myrians. Well, their visitors, anyway. His own clan had seen this countless times. They flicked him a glance then went about their business. But the Tempered Steel clanswomen couldn't help but gawk-

-as rows of yellow and black fur sprouted from brown skin, spreading from Tarukko's face and sternum across his body-

-the way his bones cracked and contorted under his flesh/fur, making some of the visitors mutter and flinch and look away, but if there was any pain, Taru did not express it-

-nor could they discern it if he did, as his face shortened in height and elongated as the nose turned into a stout, the mouth grew wider, claws and teeth punching through fingers, then paws, then gums-

Tarukko breathed out as his new form, enjoying the sleek, rippling power that it possessed. The balance... it was becoming uncanny. Every step was poised and measured, the limbs designed for graceful, fluid movement. Claws as long as his original fingers but curved and keen waited, hidden in their pouches on his paws. Just the merest flex of his new muscles, and they would emerge to rend and tear-

-then he inhaled again, and the illusion was shattered.

There was a growl from the pack, something between annoyance and a prelude to vomiting. Tarukko shook his feline head and his ears were flat against it. His senses were far from the sharpest he could have them: Jazak was so skilled she was actually a better tracker in her tiger form than an actual Myian Tiger.

Once she had a scent, she could track her prey over swamp or bare rock or the Kandaktu Basin itself. He eyes could pierce hundreds of yards of canopy and find a baby bird. Her hearing made it nearly impossible to sneak up on her and a single lap of her tongue on a smear of dropping could tell her how long it had been since it passed, it's age, gender, what it had eaten and what ailed it.

But she had time to learn. Decades. Over a century. Taru, on the other hand...

He tried to shake the mire away from him but it was no good. It was a cloud, a cloying, clinging fog of disgusting detritus that his sharpened senses couldn't handle. They wanted to, though. Every time he morphed, his mind made him a mite closer to the authentic form. A genuine imitation. No, not an imitation... a true jaguar. Just one that started as a Myrian.

Taru held onto that ideal as he breathed, whiskers twitching and recoiling like stiff spiderwebs. His back legs bunched and he leaped upwards, claws flashing-

-as he sunk them deep into a tree trunk and climbed upward, leaving the stench behind for the moment. Or, at least, as much of it as he could.

The jaguar breathed again and cast his gaze over their enterprise. More than a score of Myrians were fanning out around and ahead of him, in various forms. He saw at least five morph into their chosen models and do as he did: gain higher ground and scout ahead, using the canopy as a perch for their surveillance. The rest loped forward with the Tempered Steel, hands and limbs morphed but into claws, mandibles, pincers, talons... grisly and hideous twisting of the flesh into appendages no biped should have.

The Blackened Claws weren't of that option, however. Whatever worked for them and brought them closer both to Caiyha and to the perfection of their craft... that was what they would use.

Still, Taru's calm face betrayed a hint of concern in those wide, yellow eyes. This was a delicate maneuver. They had to spread out fa enough to cover decent ground, but remain cohesive enough that hen contact was eventually made, the whole party could close in and strike as one. A handful of Myrians, even veteran hunters, would not pen in One That Swooped. It would take the whole party, and that would take precision...

And forewarning.

Taru had his charge, his duty, and in that he would prove himself, as he always strove to. Face now the intent mask of a predator, the jaguar slinked further upward, claws perfectly suited to biting into bark and branch and slipping from tree to tree. His lithe form could slide between vines and clumps of wreckage, too; this far up, many of the "trees" were literally free-hanging piles of foliage that had just grown tight together around a single trunk.

Always, he watched, and he listened... he smelled...

The overpowering scent of bark and fungus and wet, exhaling greenery. That was a chore to force away, and once he did, everything was fainter... but there. Smells were so intense to the jaguar that they were almost visual... and Taru was not half what a true jaguar was. He saw wispy, ghostly will o' the wisps of scent, baboon and bird, lizard and snake, the main inhabitants this far up, and-

Taru stalled. The canopy shifted. Thirty feet up, and... twenty to his right. He froze, every inch of him still as only a cat could become. At first he thought it was his morphed eyes tricking him but then...

The fallen trunk he was staring at cleaned its mandibles. His eyes widened as he looked down the length of it...

Once something is big enough, the problem isn't finding it: it's believing your eyes when you do.

The Ya'Tago clacked mandibles the side of rib bones together, multifaceted eyes flickering with a lightning blink. Many of them. Small things. The hairless monkeys it had eaten. Few claws on them... no venom... but they had such cunning... such will... far more than any other beast in the jungle.

An ember of fear, the flight reflex, glowed and was crushed an instant later. No. It could not go back. It had fled the southern wilds, the deep jungle that even the Dhani avoided. There were... things, in there that had no names, for no living eyes had touched them and survived to think of one. The Ya'Tago was nearly as large as a Myrian Tiger and easily as devastating.

And yet, even it had been chased out from that sunless, hushed expanse. It could not return. This was its territory now. It had made it so with its barricade of corpses, a sign to any potential mate that it knew, in some timeless, intrinsic insect fashion, would bear fruit. All it had to do was survive... and defend.

Taru felt a thrill of very real, very mammalian fear as the trunk flexed its back... and the wings emerged, inscrutable, alien eyes fixed on the silent party below... and the snake-eyed girl trailing them.c

[Tinnok]

It was rare that there was such an enveloping silence as the one Tinnok experienced that day. Evne though some warriors were not as silent as she, all knew the importance of stealth upon this mission. Golden eyes spied long trailing roots and leapt up easily upon them tiptoeing, keeping balance with arms outstretched, eyes gazing up into the canopy briefly before being drawn ahead to see the glory of the Blackened Claws, whom for more than a moment, she became enraptured.

She did not see the jaguar man, who would soon become known as Tarukko, but she did see a lithe female turn into a shadow black thing, her skin seeming to melt into dark fur which dappled like the shadowed greenery around her. Though it was not a smooth transformation, the horrid elongation of the spine, her legs shrinking, muscle disappearing to be replaced with lithe legs as the skull twisted and turned into a feline snout and rounded ears. The half breed found herself paused in place, one foot poised to step forward, teetering shakily back and forth upon one foot rather entranced. It took only a few more ticks for that moment to make Tinnok lag behind her co-hunters, slitted eyes narrowing to mere slits when she suddenly realized she was alone.

Of course...she was not in fact alone. She sped forward, feet dashing over the roots and lunging over a large grouping of ferns, landing clumsily at a lower elevation than she expected, but tumbling easily to correct herself, arrows shaking in their quiver a bit. A few more well placed leaps and she suddenly found herself behind a jaguar, who she assumed was the one and only jaguar man, his eyes pinned at the canopy above.

Tinnok had always found a strange companionship with insects. By and large they were seen as disgusting and ugly by the Myrian populace and their alienation in general she could identify with, endearing her to them, and in some way she hoped, they to her as well. The Ya'Tago, however, was not so much looked down upon as a strange and dumb creature, but the image in horror stories because of its hunting prowess, monstrous habits...as already witnessed, and dangerous combat abilities despite its insectoid heritage.

When she glanced up up and up into the canopy, following the gaze of the frozen feline, she saw something apart from the tarantulas and beetles she had housed and cared for as a younger child, even the smaller praying mantis's, from whom the Ya'Tago's form seemed to draw its reference. It held the same blank and entirely unemotional stare, simply calculating what a party of this size meant to its territory, antennae twitching, then, sensing its time in hiding was now up, the Ya'tago began to shift its wings.

There was an immediate flinching reaction from the teenage half breed, thinking it was going to pounce upon them, but instead a distinct whining hum began to generate from its wings. Instantly the foliage around the two of them came to life, both clan warriors amassing to gain sights upon the massive insect and draw bow or claw in preparation of an attack.

Krisha's fine pointed eyebrows drew together in consternation, hands on the hilt of her weapons, glancing with concern at each of her daughters but one, then with a look at Tamrak she said what he might have already come to the conclusion of, "It is calling others...or its mate."

That was when the creature did fly, but not towards the horde of Myrians, too vast to deal with in its current state, but instead higher into the canopy to evade its pursuers...for now. Now the real hunt began.

Tinnok felt a pang of jealousy as many filled seamlessly into an ordered line taught by the Taloban military. She was in the left side of the wave of fast moving Myrians, getting rid of stealth in hopes they might catch the Ya'Tago alone, before whatever it had called had the chance to join it.
c

[Tarukko]

"Ruros' balls...!"

Taru ground out the worn Myrian curse between clenched teeth... not that anyone would have understood a syllable, anyway. All they would have heard was the low growling of a snarling jagar, crouched a few feet away from the slit-eyed abomination from the Tempered Steel. A moment later it occurred to him that such salty soldier's language was not fit for one so young... but best she get used to it early. Every Myrian marched with the Taloba Army at some point, and for all of them - prudish and libertine - it was an education in truly creative vulgarities.

The Ya'Tago moved with grace and speed that something so huge simply shouldn't have possessed. It lightly rose like a bee from a flower, shrinking as it left the Myrians below it, coldly logical brain deciding that evasion and reinforcement was the better chance of success. As Taru glared at the retreating monster, he heard Krisha's words... and his eyes widened anew.

Others? Plural? Their problems were now more than singular? He reeled silently in his jaguar form, patient cat face hiding his concern aside from a steady, nervous licking of his whiskers. One of those beasts was a nightmare; two of them was enough to decimate a clan. Could there possibly be worse than that?Would Caiyha be so cruel?

No, Taru thought cynically, even as the rest of him tried to control his panic, cruelty would be having them lay their eggs on our lands.

Tarukko shuddered at the thought. The Ya'Tago were notoriously violent with each other as much as with their prey, if not more so. Many believed that the only reason they had not bred out and wiped out every other animal in Falyndar was because they were too busy most of the time killing their rivals, eating their young and committing various forms of infanticide and parenticide. But that would comfort no-one if there was a sudden explosion of Those That Swoop a mere half-day's march from the walls of Taloba...

"We need to go up after it."

Tarukko grunted his affirmation through slitted cat nostrils, eyes narrowed evilly as it tried to follow the progress of the Ya'Tago. His mother had spoken, and that was enough for him... besides, it was their only course of action. The canopy of Falyndar was one vast hiding place for a Ya'Tago; they were lithe and nimble enough, vast as they were, to remain unseen for as long as they wished. They could comb every inch of the jungle floor but it would achieve nothing: their monstrous, mutated prey would wait for them to leave or, worse, separate and weaken, then pick them off.

"Into the canopy?" Krisha said, unable to hide a slight note of incredulity as Tamrak regained her form and rose before her, utterly indifferent to her nudity, "Sister, I do not agree. That plays to the monster's strengths, and if another comes to join it-"

"Then we are to do what? Wait? Until darkness, for it and its lover to come down in the pitch and butcher us from the shadows?"

"They will attack before that, I am sure, Tamrak. One alone was not confident of victory; two of them will be bold enough to come in close, and we will have the advantage of numbers then."

Tarukko watched as his mother digested this, brow crushed low over her eyes, torn between racing after her prey like he predator she was and the tactical argument presented to her. She flexed her hands absently, and each time she did, claws extended from her fingers, almost without thought or effort. Finally she sighed and looked around them.

"We will lose the light in... five bells. Maybe four. I do not want this hunt to drag on for a season, sister."

"It has barely been a morning, Tamrak, and already we found the one we sought. They cannot control their natures, remember that. They are compelled to attack and defend their territory. If we stay long enough, I am sure we will have victory."

"Yes..." Tamrak said after a moment, gaze going from contemplative to analytical, dark eyes flickering around the trees. "... and before that, our ambush."

At once her arms flung out and she started shooting off orders to her clansmen, in their various forms, pointing from person to location and hiding place... and then doing the same with some of the Tempered Steel.

"Get in the canopy, but low, and hidden. When they come in for the attack, you will have the advantage of height... and be in their blind spot, to boot. Us your wyrd, if you can, to mask your scent and match your skin to the trees. If they suspect a trap, they will not engage."

"And my people, Tamrak?"

The Blackened Claw Elder swung her head to Krisha and nodded to the hunting party. "You bought plenty with you, but plenty might give them above pause. Thin our numbers, at least in here... the killing ground. The bait. Make them think we are less than we are... and have your archers and spear maidens ready in the trees to skewer them when they approach."

Krisha nodded sharply, unable to argue with one who had not only accepted her advice but further augmented it. Her eyes snapped to her lowest daughter as if they were whips of their own, words ground out almost unwillingly.

"Tinnok will be among them. She has good enough aim and steady hands with her bow. Better to use her there than have here wasted."

Tamrak nodded and found her son as the hunting party began to fragment, some spreading out further, some clambering up into the low branches, all of them casting fearful, watchful glances up at the faceless canopy... waiting-

"Son? Son...?"

-Taru nearly jumped when he felt his mother's hand on his furry shoulder, hair bristling and back arching like any cat would. But in a blink his narrowed eyes became round as bowls, tail swishing back and forth.

"Go with this one," she said simply, head jutting Tinnok's way without actually looking at her, "Her blood is flawed and I will not trust her without cause without one of my own at her side. Go. Protect her and aid her. And watch her."

The words dripped of suspicion for the yellow-eyed girl, but anyone could see the concern that flowed from Tamrak's own gaze as she muttered the words... and then stroked Taru's head like he was an overgrown kitten.

His face scrunched up in enjoyment and out of sheer, borrowed instinct he nuzzled his head upward into her hand... right before it vanished, and she pointed upward. The jaguar purred, but it ended with a snarl. A promise given brief, brutal voice.

Krisha glanced at her own offspring... and there was no softness there. No concern. No short nod to inspire confidence nor surreptitious salute. Tarukko glanced back as he began to scale the tree again... and saw Tinnok waiting, perhaps for some look from the female that carried and bore her... some buried sign of affection...

Krisha looked away and went back to her arrows. Taru blinked his wide cat eyes and felt... something uncomfortable. As if he had just witnessed something unnatural and painful. But then the female with the stoic face and snake eyes was at his sides, and they had a climb ahead of them.

c

[Tinnok]

oocApologies for the delay on this!

She stood, back erect in silence as those that were her betters contemplated a plan of attack. If truth be told, the young Tinnok did not have an opinion one way or another. The glimpse of that Ya'Tago, as brief as it was, was horrifying, and part of her mind was convinced it could not be killed. Of course her logical mind knew this was false, she had seen parts of the Ya'Tago brought home as prizes. But one thing she had seen in that calculating intelligent eye was a mind that knew when to fight and when to flee. A young Ya'Tago probably would have thrown itself at them in a frenzy, its desire to vanquish victims overriding everything else. Though they were the trespassers, this one had left, to find a needed ally...or perhaps more, she wasn't quite sure how their alliances worked.

At least no one was discrediting the creature's intelligence. The half breed's mind snapped back to the present where Tamrak and Krisha were discussing their options. Up into the trees? That almost made Tinnok smile, if her heart wasn't about to beat out of her chest. These Blackened Claws might have the advantage of their animal forms, but she had her short lifetime of experience climbing the gnarled trees of the jungle.

When Krisha addressed her, her heart almost stopped, thinking for an instant that because of what she was, she was going to be thrown as the bait, despite the fact she was better suited in the trees. Her pupils instinctually narrowed, revealing even moreso her tainted heritage, and she saw Krisha's brow knit as she observed this.

It was all she could do not to let out an audible sigh of relief when she realized she was being tasked up in the trees. She barely heard the suspicious words of the Blackened Claw, setting her with the jaguar man, her eyes focused intently on Krisha's back. Again, her words had been a compliment, there was no way to deny her skill with a bow, especially at this age, but of course she longed for something more, something...that would not come.

Turning around to glance at the golden and spotted jaguar, Tinnok set her inner turmoil aside, the idea of climbing and perching, two goals that she knew she could handle, even with her bodyguard...She looked deep into eyes, not so different from her own, face utterly serious, then her lips shifted in nary a whisper. "Race you to the top."

That ghost of a smile returned, but she had already whipped away from the jaguar, taking a running start up a nearby root, which she had already assessed when the idea of climbing had been put into her mind, balls of her feet leaping from place to place until at the peak of the root where it met the trunk she lunged upwards, fingers straining to grab onto the lowest branch, barely getting a good enough grasp as she swung her legs up and over, landing in a shaky, but fairly well executed flip that put her feet back down on the branch. One thing she knew about races was that to look at your opponent was to lose. If he was too bothered by what she was, or this situation to play this litte game with her, well...she won by default. If he did follow her, she didn't want to see those claws, made for climbing, beating the petch out of attempt.

Neck craned, knees bent, she spied her next target and lunged again, this time one hand slipping, forcing her to hang on only by one slipping hand that didn't have the strength to hold her body up. Glancing around frantically she let go, falling to a lower branch, bark scraping skin off of her hand, and tried again more successfully, with a closer and slightly lower appendage. Her climbing was in a corkscrew motion around the tree, stopping mid way up, unsure of how high she should be positioned before she needed to hide herself from the oncoming Ya'Tago...

Only then did she afford herself a glance at her new companion.
c

[Tarukko]

She didn't give him much time to think, and it wasn't like he could express his surprise very well (it's a cat thing: lack of eyebrows, for one). Before he could purr or growl the skinny female was darting away from him, leaping and scaling and-

Goddess, the Myrian mind in the jaguar skull thought to itself, watching her swing up onto the lowest branches, spry little thing, isn't she?

Yes, and we're still down here, aren't we?!

Bugger!

Well, that's what he would have said. But, bereft of his mother-born vocal chords, instead the long, taut feline let out a frustrated howl that screeched and buzzed like a saw and then leaped onto the branch Tinnok had been on mere ticks before. No matter her own skill and experience, Taru knew from his own that no Myrian had the agility of Falyndar's big cats.

Which didn't mean he had all the advantages, however.

Within ticks he knew that she was taking this seriously. All her attention was focused only on the climb: the next handhold, the next footfall, the next branch, level, vine, anything. Taru smiled as only a cat could.

Worthy warriors are only made by worthy opponents.

His front legs undulated under him as heaved himself upright with them, then pushed upward with his back legs-

-throwing himself up vertically, front legs extended again, along with curved claws, biting through bark and into trunk-

-drawing a grunt with every fresh advance. Supple and inhumanly agile as the jaguar was, he was still only used to a Myrian's pain threshold, and his weight dug and pulled at his claws like pliers at his nails.

But all it took was the sight of her gaining ground to have his teeth bared again, back legs bunched up under him as he sighted the higher branch-

-then exploded straight as corded muscle obeyed his command, limber feline body a streak of gold-and-black power topped with gleaming eyes and curved black claws amidst the green and brown in-between-world-

-latching on hard to the branch that Tinnok was just arriving at.

Finally, the wind-fast half-breed slowed to regard him. Chests heaving, breath coming out ragged, but sharing that same exhilaration of contest and exertion. Taru absently wondered who'd won, then realized it hardly mattered... not that he'd be clamoring for his laurels as soon as he could speak again.

The jaguar glanced around at the hut-thick trunks around them, and found similar scenes played out among both kin and stranger. Myrians Tempered and Blackened were climbing up the trunks, swinging from branch to branch, clambering up vines with bows cross their backs, arrows in their teeth and spears awkwardly grasped. Taru watched their progress with close, calculating eye... especially the way they seemed to vanish once they had found their perch.

Which we should aim for, since we're most likely high en-

Something big creaked above them. A branch that could have supported a Myrian Tiger groaned and screeched in protestation as something settled onto it that strained even its girth. The two Myrians (well, in a sense) froze where they sat. Slowly, Taru dragged his feline gaze upward...

The stench of it wafted down like rotting meat and the skin-crawling wrongness of insect pheromones. Tinnok would have sensed it, perhaps, but for a Myrian with the enhanced nostrils of a jaguar... Taru's face and snout crumpled in on itself, but he held his breath, forced his eyes higher...

Until his eyes grew wide. Something he'd been taught about Those That Swoop surfaced in his frozen mind. That only the males can fly. The females, especially when heavy with eggs, cannot. They must stay to the canopy, from from possible predators save the vast birds of prey that haunt the skies above it...

They are also even bigger than the males.

Taru's paw slowly, painfully slowly... reached out and rested over Tinnok's hand. Young as she was, he knew she had received the same lessons, the cumulation of generations of Myrians who had both survived and hunted the twisted mantids. Their smell was almost nonexistent; their hearing was not much better. But their eyes... they were sharp beyond imagining. So they must be still, until-

The branch creaked again. A limb that should have been delicate and weak but was thick as Tinnok's arm moved down the trunk and rested on the level about twenty feet above them. The female's eyes flickered left and right constantly, never ceasing, never blinking...

But where is her mate?c