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On the Hunt

On the Hunt

Paul felt like his legs were made of lead as he drifted through the forest as if not fully in control of his body. The images of the werewolf attack still ran through his head, flashes of memory playing on repeat. Shadows, matted fur, teeth and claws, magical light, silver swords, and blood. More blood than he had ever seen in real life. Real life. That thought struck him temporarily out of his stupor, What is real life? It definitely can't be this. This can't be a dream, but it's not reality either. What's really happening to me?

He was suddenly aware that the group he was traveling with had picked up the pace again, and they were all now trotting briskly through the dark trees. A ways ahead of him, Verity led the jog through the moonlit night, holding some sort of magical sphere ahead of her to light their way. How long had they been on their trek now, and what exactly were they following? Paul tried to catch up to Verity's pace, but between the armor he wore and his less than ideal physical prowess, he knew he was barely keeping from being left behind as it was. Just as he felt his legs start to give and buckle beneath him, the troupe came to a halt. One of the people leading the charge, a lean man wearing a forest green robe who carried a longbow, had signaled their attention to something Paul could not see. Paul, unable to carry himself any further, let his legs give way, and he planted himself unceremoniously on the muddy forest floor.

The momentary reprieve from the insanity of everything didn't last long, as Verity made her way back through the group to where Paul sat. She knelt in front of him, her robed knee sinking into the mud. She gently but firmly inspected him, twisting his head, lifting his arms, and checking him for wounds from the werewolf ambush. Paul could not have resisted her probing even if he had wanted to, he was now beyond physical exhaustion.

"You do not appear injured, Paul. My protective enchantments seem to have held. This is understandably very difficult for you, so I am going to give you a tincture that will restore your spirit for a time, although I'm afraid you will feel twice as tired after it has worn off. But we must move forward." she calmed as she moved her hands to the pack slung around her shoulders.

Verity produced a thumb-sized vial of a dark, sticky-looking substance, and before Paul could protest, she had tipped it to his mouth. The liquid inside slid smoothly down his throat before he knew what had happened. As she calmly stood back to her feet, he opened his mouth to yell at her for the violation of his person, but in a wave, the weariness and exhaustion rolled off of him.

He blinked, nearly at a loss for words, but words did finally come, "Take me back. Now. I did not consent to whatever the hell you did to bring me here, but I demand you take me back."

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Paul stood and squared his shoulders to her, locking eye contact with the girl. For the first time, he realized she was actually taller than him. No one in the adventuring party moved as they stared each other down. Verity's face was calm and collected, and she seemed to be waiting for Paul to say more. He determined he wouldn't be the first to speak, and he crossed his arms, attempting to convey a confidence he was completely lacking at the moment.

The seconds ticked like minutes, and Verity opened her mouth at last and matter of factly stated, "The only way out for you is through. This trial you must face, and then you may go where you please."

Paul's face went slack at the words that seemed to seal his fate. Without waiting for his reply, Verity turned away and approached the man in the cowl who had called for the halt to begin with. He could not hear the words exchanged between them, but after a few moments, she turned to the group and announced, "Our sister Reonh may now be one of the turned. If we do not rescue her in time, she will no longer be of the Light. The dwelling of Bertrand Throatripper, one of the Shadow Kind's most faithful, lies ahead. Be prepared, and be vigilant. Paul, by my side. I will not see you snuffed out on your first hunt."

Weapons were hoisted into the air with hearty cheers, and the pack of monster hunters resumed their journey. Paul saw clearly that his choices were to stay in a werewolf-infested forest or follow the people he now considered his kidnappers into further danger. Reluctantly, he followed. Filled with new energy, he caught up to Verity with ease. Lariat, the only other person there that he knew by name so far, came up beside him and nudged him.

"You have a right to feel that way," he confided, referencing his brief showdown with Verity.

Paul scoffed. Seeing Verity's sidelong glance, he spoke quieter, "Oh, you think? You've all only taken me from my home to who knows where and placed me smack in the middle of life-threatening peril."

Lariat placed a feathery hand on Paul's shoulder and leaned in, "She doesn't always explain what she does, but she's always got a reason. And in my experience, it's always been a good one. But for what it's worth, I'll do my best to keep you safe as well. Just try to lean into the hunt. You've better odds of making it home if you aren't swinging blind and soiling your breeches."

The avian warrior seemed to smile with his large beak, a truly bizarre sight, and he patted Paul on the back confidently. Paul wasn't sure that gave him and real comfort, but part of him knew the parrot man was right. He would stand a better chance of surviving if he stuck with them and tried to keep from panicking again.

As Lariat took a position in the formation walking carefully through the forest, the dense trees abruptly gave way to open pastures. Ahead of them a few hundred yards, lit spectacularly by the moon, a small fort with high stone walls stood alone in the middle of the flat land. A few figures paced in loping steps on the tops of the walls, not quite human, but not fully inhuman either. Paul reasoned that this had to be the fortress of the one Verity had named "Throatripper." Gripping his sheathed sword with a simple determination to make it home again, he followed Verity as she led them towards the dark walls.