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Behemoth-Bane
Vol 2, chapter 45: Trekking

Vol 2, chapter 45: Trekking

Dreadfully, all the stabled hounds had succumbed to the vicious attack, though their bodies had been left intact. Logan had observed it before - how some Monstrum would shy away from consuming wildlife when there was an alternative. He imagined that was the only reason there were still animals still roaming around Cradle - a near-comical realization that had dawned on his years ago. When questioned, he’d always answer the same way; that they’d been fortunate enough to be judged a delicious treat by their natural predators - the same way the hares of the forests had been to them.

And, in a continuation of this streak of luck, they were again forced to drudge back towards the mire, albeit with Pupper and Braille to assist them.

They hadn’t gotten far away from the fields of the slaughter before Logan had stopped to look across the horizon of burnt fields and orchards. The heat had been considerable - enough even to melt some of the dirt to specks of glass. But it hadn’t been enough to fully scorch the white, charred bones of the guardsmen that Iris and her Eyes had dragged out into the grass.

The rest of the party stopped next to the Ghast to look at the remains in a moment’s silence.

“I knew these men well… Trained them from scratch - none of them knew the dangerous end of a rifle when they signed up…” Jarek spoke solemnly, revealing that he had yet to be blunted by the death of his comrades. Logan envied him for that - for the way he could still see the humanity in anyone but his closest allies; Logos knew he hadn’t for quite some time.

Mara looked down at her shortened arm and chimed in: “Logan… were they ever infested?” Logan shook his head.

“I don’t think so. The Monstrum doesn’t attack its own, least of all its gene-seed-carriers.”

“Is that how you knew I wasn’t infected?” Mara questioned, raising her lopped off hand. Logan shook his head.

“The two of you had your lodging in the third floor of the garrison - out of the Monstrum’s reach. If you were infested, you’d have popped at this point, so I’m pretty confident you’re not. But it’s always hard to definitively rule it out… Iris will use that to her advantage.”

Upon hearing the detestable name, Mara gritted her teeth and spoke a few muttered curses. Jarek never turned from the bodies as he asked: “I’m not sure she can be forced to suffer enough for what she did here…”

Logan took a step closer to clap the man’s shoulder and promise: “I’ll make sure she does.”

Somehow, the old man didn’t doubt it. For all his kindness, the Ghast had a frightening side to him - especially without the mask. The Ghast clapped twice before muttering: “Catch up when you’re ready, brother Jarek.”

He stood there, remembering the aftermath of the Eastern Pass. Men, some younger than these, had littered a similar field amidst piles of flesh. But at least those men had died for a purpose. For a reason other than paranoia and principle. A gust of warm, smoke-flavored air blew past the old man, animating some of the ashes to clink against his boots.

“Rest well, my brethren.”

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Luna sat straight-backed and proud atop Pupper and stared down at the lengthy nose ahead of her. The hound kept her head up high, sniffing the air with a pride of her own - confident in her partner’s skill and presence. Jarek, Mara and Abraham had all been exhausted at one or another point in the lengthy trek across the mires, but the hound had remained stalwart that either Luna sat at the front, or she refused to move. According to Logan, this was her way of communicating that the two had formed a similar connection that he had with Zeke - the sacred, timeless bond between hound and warrior.

She found herself longing to dart off across the mires, as they had when they went to what they thought would be a rescue-mission, as she missed the lightning speeds of the sighthound, But, at Logan’s behest, she had stayed close to listen to Jarek, Jorn and Logan as they loudly discussed the nature of the Monstrum in terms beyond her understanding. Truthfully, she just enjoyed the conversation and seeing the stinky eye of the mud-riddled Mara directed her way had a tendency to make her smile.

The girl was obviously as miserable as she had been when she was in those shoes, drudging across the hungry hummus towards what Luna knew would be a startling experience of its own.

As if able to read her mind, Mara ran her remaining hand through her filthy, mud-riddled blonde hair and brandished her widest smile.

She contorted her voice into the most ear-piercing, gut-wrenching whine Luna had ever heard as she jogged up next to Logan to ask: “Oh, B-Boss. My feet are so tired and my thighs are chafing. But I’m a bit scared to be out here alone… C-could we maybe rest a bit? I don’t want to slow everyone down…” Logan stopped to look at her. She certainly seemed pained and the sun had moved low over the mires. Jarek, despite his stoicism, appeared no less famished and exhausted than she did.

Abraham seemed miserable where he sat atop Braille with Jorn’s right arm tightly clenching his discomforted abdomen and, in the back, Serah sat with crossed arms and an unmistakable pout at Jorn’s insistence he sit between them for the sake of safety. Logan answered the desperate girl clinging to his arm with calm and ease: “We don’t have tents or bags. We’ll get cold if we stop moving and that’s gonna be a problem out here.”

Mara shuddered, suddenly a far more feminine creature than Luna had first judged her. She crept even closer to Logan as she spoke just loud enough for the Logoruum to hear: “I-If it’s just the t-two of us, I’m s-sure you can find a way to keep me warm.”

Logan raised his free arm to drag his palm across his face. He knew that everyone had their own coping strategies - he’d seen most of them already. Some drank, some ate, some fought and some simply killed themselves. This one remained one of the few he hadn’t seen.

Luna cleared her throat atop the back of the hound and shot the girl a glance. “Well, Loggie. What’s it gonna be?” He was still unused to having to take those types of considerations in addition to his usual precautions.

“Oh, right. I suppose you were never really formally introduced… Mara, this is my lover - Luna.” It was like a stone dropped to drag on all of Mara’s facial features, forming the most profound frown he’d ever seen. Luna seemed to grow a head taller from the displeasure of the woman and corrected: “Well, I’d say we’re more like life-partners at this point. It’s been over ten years, after all.” Perhaps not consecutively, but still… close enough.

Mara immediately switched tactics. When seduction was off the table, it was time for the competition. “Ah, I was wondering - you certainly seem old enough to have been around him for a while.” Such open hostility - such courage. Logan imagined he’d rather be back in town as the two devolved into a frenzy of passive-aggressive comments and insults, some of which involved an open-ended bartering.

As blood boiled and not a cool head remained, it dawned on Logan that this might be the most dysfunctional group of people he’d ever been part of.

Perhaps they had a shot, after all.