12th of Summer, 516 AV
As usual, it was another night to hunt. Wren exited her cave home in the mountains and stretched in the moonlit clearing. She loosed an ultrasonic screech of pleasure, sucking the sweet air into her lungs and holding it a few ticks before releasing it gently. She blew a tendril of midnight-blue hair from her eyes and peered about the area. She whipped her head from side to side, using her keen ears to their fullest in hopes of latching onto any sound near to her home turf. She rarely was that fortunate, but it never hurt to try.
Her diligence paid off this time around. Wren cocked her head and held still for a number of heartbeats. Something was nearby. Very close actually. Down the switchback that twisted around trees and rocky outcroppings, something moved. Shuffled was more like it. Shuffling? There had to me more than one of whatever was causing all that racket. Perhaps that was why they did not remain quiet. Fear of discovery was unimportant sometimes if prey were many...
Ticks later the Zith was airborne, circling high above the location she had heard the shambling feet. Lower down the path she found a gap between rock and tree where she could gain purchase and a better vantage of the happenings below. Settling on a shelf of natural stone that rose high out of the valley, Wren peered down and her eyes widened in alarm. A gathering of humans moved along the path. She counted four of them altogether and there was something else down there. A distinct growl announced the presence of a lone wolf. The animal snarled and appeared suddenly from out of her range of vision to risk harm to itself by running close to the pack of humans and snapping its jaws to any offending hands that came close. The wolf then bolted away, distancing itself quite easily from the awkwardly moving people.
Wren laughed loudly, not caring if those below heard her or not. It was humorous how stupid and slow the group was. It was fairly obvious the wolf had made something of a joke out of the crew. The sight recalled her to her most recent adventure when she had discovered a giant fish that held a treasure and a clumsy creature (she later learned from a blacksmith it was called a Yukman) bent on maiming her. Wren blinked. Could it be? The similarity in their movement was unmistakable. More Yukman? This time outside of her cave home. Where did they come from? Did they do nothing but chase would-be victims for the entirety of their existence?
Wren shrugged her shoulders to loosen the tension that had gathered there. It didn't matter really. They were there and she didn't want the things so close to home. The time had come to put her new sword to the test. The Zith hungered for the wolf, but more than that, she craved the fight to come. She released an ultrasonic battle-cry and drew her sister swords from their sheaths at her hips. Crossing the blades she smiled malevolently down at the Yukman and dove off in pursuit.
