Chapter 106: Hold
Joseph watched the trees pass by as they continued their languid walking pace. The wildlife provided silence as they travelled through, picking back up their activities once they were out of range. The hangover was thankfully mild, and the relative peace saved him the trouble of fighting it.
Last night went by pretty casually, all things considered. He and Sunny stayed up a bit late while he told her whatever amusing stories he could remember, eventually calling it when he stumbled on his way to relieve himself in the woods. Fortunately, she was at least aware that humans tend to get drunk as they consumed alcohol, so he didn’t need to explain that his somewhat slurred speech wasn’t some illness. If anything, she wore a fond smile seeing him fumble the occasional word and giggled when he went on a tangent.
Honestly, he just kept drinking because it was the happiest he had seen her since they had met. If a hangover was the price he paid to have the Grand Huntress lighten up, then he’d pop another container open when they got back too. It was a bad idea, but he wouldn’t question it if she asked for a repeat with the rest of the pack. Though, it did mean that he may have to commandeer some more alcohol from their limited supply.
Once they did call it a night, Tel and Pan were in the bed waiting, the grey-furred female having been turned into a body pillow as the smaller of the two rested her...well, everything over the other. The small smile and interconnected tails was the only thing stopping him from thinking that the grey-furred fiancee was inconvenienced by the arrangement. Inebriated—and humouring a suggestive thought brought on by Tel’s earlier teasing—he made a comment to Sunny about hoping the pair didn’t have too much fun without him.
The widened eyes and blush on Tel’s face was absolutely worth his own faltering train of thought as he finally noticed that she was awake. He had never really seen Tel blush over such things—she made a point of being the instigator in every sense—so seeing her get so taken aback by his joke struck him as both cute and curious, but he wasn’t in a state of mind to question it further. Sunny just rolled her eyes and shoved him towards the bed, giggling to herself when he failed to stop the crash into his mates. There was a bit of lazy protest and setup that took place until everyone curled up for the night, but he didn’t mind in the slightest.
It was a nice break from everything.
After all of that, the only thing he really had to do was finalize his system checks and get on the move back to the settlement. Confirming that everything was fine and that they were ready, Tel took to the trees again, but stopped by during their rest breaks instead of remaining out of sight the whole time. It was nice to sit with the group and chat while the fluffy members of their group let their legs rest.
“Still nothing?” he called, watching Tel drop down nearby as they picked the next stop. The rest of them chose seats on a fallen tree while the Wraith approached, Pan helping him shrug off the backpack and rummaging through it for the water and snacks. Her bracers were placed in her lap as she took a drink, the armour having been relegated to storage for most of their trip at his insistence. They had made it about half way back so far, but the later start to their trip meant that it was solidly afternoon. He figured they would be back a little after nightfall.
“Disappointed that I have not brought back spoils?” Tel teased, batting him with her tail when he made a face. “No, none of the wildlife has decided to approach us.”
He nodded his approval. It certainly made the trip relaxing when they didn’t have to worry about it.
“Are you resting enough?” Pan asked, presenting some leftover meat that the Wraith had cooked up for the trip before they left. Tel accepted it casually as the Paw offered some to Sunundra as well.
“I am fine,” the grey-furred female affirmed, taking a step back and leaning against a tree.
“She spends a lot of time sitting on branches between bursts,” Joseph offered.
“Oh? I am surprised you could find me.”
He shrugged. “Usually can’t, but that’s what the girls do. Struck me as a way for you guys to combat the lower stamina and figured it carried over.”
She chuckled. “Not all are able to continue at one pace like yourself.”
His retort died in his throat when a crow-like avian fluttered to a stop in the trees above them, eyeing the group before its focus zeroed in on him. He silently prayed that it would lose interest and slip back into the trees without a sound—just a curious bird that thought they looked interesting. Any second now, it would whistle a random note, then go away when it got bored. Just like the first time.
A silent stare without movement had it cawing at full volume. Fuck.
Scarlet sent it.
He bolted to his feet, quickly chucking everything back in the bag as his two mates expedited the process with equal haste.
“Is something wrong? Why is that avian distressing you?” Sunundra asked, wide eyed at his sudden energy and steeled expression.
“Scarlet trained some of the birds to hunt the pack down for snacks,” he explained, tugging the backpack closed and tossing it onto his shoulders. “If she sent it after me, then something at the settlement has gone wrong.”
“Could it not be a disagreement?”
He paused, silence reigning for a few breaths. After tossing a scrap of meat to the crow to send it back, he dragged a weary eye to look at the Grand Huntress. “They wouldn’t call me for that. I hope you’re right, but we need to move.”
She matched his gaze, a paw lightly touching the CARD on her hip. She nodded. “And so we shall.”
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Scarlet burst between the branches, the other Wraiths following in their silent pursuit. The flare had been alarming enough, but with the information Faye obtained, it meant that Hasen was planning to strike in force, and soon.
Surrender was an option; not for herself or the other reforged, but the pack could simply make their intent known and none would fall. They would separate from the master and act under new leadership. All it would cost them is their dens and the place they had claimed their own, the Atmo being taken as tools and slaves—if they were kept alive at all.
Not a single member considered it as an option.
The alarm was raised, the Heads informed, and weapons distributed—crossbows, bows, and swords being planted into most paws. Those who were less experienced with such armament were delegated to ensuring those who were could use their implements, unimpeded by scarcity of ammunition or broken iron. The Atmo quickly carted supplies to designated points, a few donning metal or ironwood armour with assistance.
Scarlet allowed a wry grin. For as entertaining as the war-games were, never did she think such would evolve into the entire pack knowing their roles. Marksmen took to the walkways, the ‘stealth snipers’ that the master had asked trained took to the trees, and even medical arrangements were swiftly prepared—Atmo unsuited to combat equipping flat extensions to their base to act as transportation for the wounded. Key points in the settlement were manned and prepared, choke points and retreat routes long since documented and propagated throughout the pack. Even the ballistae at the gate were prepared and but a single tug away from sending massive projectiles into the incursion’s forces.
The reason the Wraiths were moving away from the settlement instead of setting up within it was a simple request from an unexpected source. The young mistress had approached them with but a single demand.
[We need information. Numbers, weapons, direction. Take the Wraiths and get it. Come back safe.]
Scarlet had blinked at the order, admittedly. For throughout the communications that the master’s kit had with them, most all were messages of affirmation or gratitude. To be commanded by her in much the same way that the Human would was surprising. It made all four of them exchange a glance, recalling the circumstance that led to the kit falling under his care in the first place.
She was to learn from him. She demanded information because he would as well; because he always acted with a clearer mind when all variables were considered. Because he sought control.
So too did the young mistress, and in that moment, the Wraiths had a choice—an odd occurrence for ones such as them. They could act autonomously by following that which had been ingrained into them by war-game and training...or they could heed the wish of the one whom the master nurtured. One whom Scarlet herself was often beholden—if only because she had come to be fond of the kit over the suns.
“Visual,” Kaslin chirped quietly, slowing her advance through the trees, the black hue of their armour and moss-wolf skull masks adding to her stealth. Scarlet and the others spread out to get a wider field of view on the encroaching forces.
They had set up a forward encampment not too far from the settlement, solar chargers placed on crude roofs and most scurrying about the area with clear goals in mind. Though there were few constructions—the majority of the sheltered zones being naught but natural foliage—they made the most of it, several assigned to weapons maintenance and medical. A cursory glance showed that their armament was mostly bows and swords, but quite a few were armed with plasma-casters. That answered one of the questions they were tasked with.
The next was a rough estimation of their number. Scarlet moved a few trees over, gaining a higher vantage point while remaining concealed by the yellow leaves. As they expected, the flare had kicked the enemy into high gear. A few seemed hesitant, anxious even, about the barking orders being delivered by a large black-furred male—his throat marred by a thin scar. She recognized the injury as one that the mistress inflicted when they were tasked with routing the forces assaulting Bratik, but none wished for the survivors to return.
Truthfully, none of the Wraiths wished for survivors at all, but the master wished it, so they complied. They couldn’t say that it was a correct decision or not—much had been resolved in one way or another because of his choice. Scarlet blinked away her doubt. The master would be the first to claim his lack of perfection, but he sought only the best using information he was in possession of at the time. When he made such a command of them, they were woefully uninformed.
It was their duty to ensure such would not occur again.
Raine slipped closer for a moment after confirming with the others, returning with a grim expression and a shake of her head. Subtle paw signals confirmed their worry.
Their enemy was numerous, and it seemed like the first wave of the assault would begin soon. The four retreated back towards the settlement, taking small comfort in knowing that they were concentrated in the opposite direction of where the master would be returning from. Scarlet slowed as a consideration crossed her mind.
“Scarlet?” Faye asked, the dark gold-furred female being the first to notice their unofficial senior stopping.
“Continue onward,” she instructed, eyeing the direction where the scout ship lay. “Deliver what we have learned. I will seek assistance from the soldiers.”
Kaslin and Raine nodded, fading into the brush without a sound, while Faye smiled. “The young mistress will fret if you do not return with us.”
“Assure her that I will join you once I have pleaded my case,” she murmured. A part of her chastised much of her decision. She sought to rejoin the kit, instead of venturing to seek her master or mistress. She did not deem assassination feasible to resolve the situation at paw, despite being able. True, the target would perish, but so too would she. Even the four of them could not dispatch an army alone in broad sunlight. That was assuming the removal of their leader would cease the events in the first place.
It just tugged at her soul that her passing—even if it were to resolve the crisis—would impact Violet deeply. The thought provoked a smile. Where once her considerations were of success and failure, she now had the mind to consider how such success would only hurt a kit. She could think of how much she wished not for such, and allowed it to colour her decisions. Allowed her to seek aid from what was technically a foreign power.
A paw touched her arm, snapping Scarlet out of her musings. Faye shook her head.
“Both of us will go. If they are to accept, then it will be more that we may return with.”
The dark red-furred female glanced between the other Wraith, the direction of the settlement, and where they sought to go. They had little time.
Scarlet nodded. “We must hurry.”
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Jax shuffled his crossbow in his paws, his axe resting against the walkway and wall, his bulky armour repaired and donned. There were few times that he actually wished for developments in their technology, but binoculars or a spyglass would give them additional information and time to work with. For now, the security was evenly spread, yet ready to converge at a moment’s notice. They were just waiting in the diminishing light of the sun.
Harrow was assigned to be a part of the logistics members supplying others with ammunition. She had protested, citing her accuracy with her bow as a reason to be with him at the first sign of danger, but he was firm with his decision. She could lose him and continue on. She would be cared for, even if he was no longer to provide.
Their kits would be cared for.
“Head Jax,” Raine huffed, struggling to contain her breathing. He shifted his eye to her, silently thankful that she had chosen the side with his functional eye to address, though that didn’t prevent the small start her soundless appearance gave him. He held a paw up to still the reactions of the other security. They would ask questions, but now was not the time.
“Report.”
The Wraith nodded, not confronting his authority despite herself not technically being his subordinate. “They are to the Northeast and in large numbers—several hundred. The first wave should be arriving shortly, but the rest are preparing at an improvised encampment nearby. We suspect they will concentrate their forces for the initial assault.”
“An attempt to pierce our defences,” he surmised grimly. It was likely that they would wait until the success or failure of the first wave before attacking from another direction. It was a common strategy during the war-games, and one that the pack was well versed in defending—though not quite at this scale. Routes between critical areas had been long since memorized and optimized. The issue became dealing with potential...no, likely wounded who would need ferrying. The Atmo had participated in a few exercises, but none were able to predict how they would handle the stress of genuine conflict.
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“What of Scarlet?” he pressed, addressing the odd choice of contact. Raine bowed respectfully, finally managing to catch her breath.
“Scarlet has decided to seek aid from the military contacts nearby. I believe Faye has joined her.”
“Seeking aid?”
“Perhaps firearms? I apologize, returning was our top priority.”
Jax exhaled, glancing into the settlement below as he considered it. Tension was palpable, the pack was wary, and the Atmo continued to bring whatever they could wherever it may be needed. He caught sight of Sahari instructing those who were preparing medical supplies and the few security she was placed in charge of, Nalah at her side for support. Harrow was in the den to compare something Joseph obtained while he was away with what they had in their stores, as well as to keep her safe. It would be where the heavily injured would gather, so having someone there before it was needed was ideal.
Volta was giving the areas designated for general medical treatment a swift clean with the Atmo kits, constantly ready to retreat into the den when combat starts. Mama was caring for the two Queens, though they both insisted on providing assistance where they could. For now, it was carving shields and rough arrows from spare lumber, but it was bolstering their defences nonetheless. Heralt, their blacksmith, was beating out dents and scratches in old armour to get them back on able bodies.
They were preparing, even as the threat loomed over them. Not a single moment was spent fearing their end, for none intended to allow it to take them. They were strong. Determined.
They would fight to protect their kin. Their settlement. Their friends and loved ones.
They would fight for the Guardian.
He patted Raine on the shoulder, the unusual contact surprising the Wraith. “You have done your task well, but I have one more to ask of you.”
The brown-furred female nodded silently. He took a breath.
“My mate... If she is to make an attempt to join the fray...” He brought his gaze back to the treeline, regret for what he was to ask marring his face. “I would rather her unconscious and furious at me after all is done, than departing where I can not protect her. Even if it is their victory, I would rather give her a chance to prevail in my absence.”
Raine opened her muzzle, the desire to refuse clear in her eyes. He smiled gently as he held up a paw to finish.
“I understand such may happen while you are also preoccupied, but please, promise me. For my own peace of mind.”
The Wraith stared at him disapprovingly, eventually spinning on her pad to march off. A pause in her step occurred just before she dropped from the walkway.
“Order received, Head Jax.”
He chuckled as the female disappeared into the settlement to prepare. It was a mostly pointless exchange, true, yet it eased a part of him.
The ease remained as the first silhouettes broke the brush across the clearing, and when the first arrow passed through the shell of his ear, the sting of torn membrane ignored. He threw himself into cover and did what Joseph ensured they could all do after Mi’low initially threatened combat so long ago.
He whistled a sharp, piercing tone.
The attack had begun.
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The light was slowly waning, the sun well into its descent past the horizon and forest. She was standing atop the low defensive platform, two others heeding her commands. Others hunkered behind improvised barricades, structures, or shields, peeking out with weapons in paw. The gate—their singular bastion of safety, a symbol of their Grand Hunter and his convictions—now became a focus for the ‘siege weapons’ and ranged armament training their sights at the opening.
Already they had lost someone upon the walkway above, but they had no time to check who. They just called for medical aid and prayed that someone could hear them over the din, eyes towards the gaping maw in the wall and tears stinging, fuelling their fury.
A fury that was delivered by the weapons which obeyed her whim.
The ballistae were armed, aimed, and the first fired into the surging forces at her behest. A massive bolt tore through fur and flesh, armour and bone. She didn’t enjoy reliving combat scenarios so eerily like her time as a mercenary, but at least the guns were few in number. The second unleashed its wrath a moment later, scattering those who thought it safe.
There were so many.
“Reload!” Sahari roared, the back of her mind worried for her mate and her bond. Nalah had torn off into the settlement to escort the last of the non-combatant members to their stations while the ex-Grand Huntress took to commanding the grounded security forces. She could hear Jax bark orders somewhere else on the walls, but he was preoccupied with thinning the numbers and avoiding arrow or plasma, the latter lighting the air with its glow and sizzling against what it connected with.
Never had she been so thankful that Joseph insisted on most construction being done with ironwood, especially the wall—the plasma smouldering and smoking against the tempered barrier, but falling just shy of igniting. It wouldn’t last forever, but every moment it did was a moment they could be protected. Another moment where they could defend with clear minds.
The large ammunition was loaded into the over-sized crossbow, the construction creaking with the weight as Lilhuns grunted in the effort it took to heft the bolts. It was never meant to be used in quick succession, nor much at all. They had it as a ‘trump card’ for if more greymaws decided to hunt within the bounds of the settlement, not slaughter more of her kind—it just so happened to be doing that excellently.
The mechanism screeched as a crank hauled the thick rope back, the limbs of the weapon voicing their protests amongst the shouts of fervent rage from the enemy.
“Aim!”
Two security members grunted as they adjusted the angle and pitch of the weapon. Others from the construction teams she had grown to know while visiting Nalah—friends, even—pulled their bowstrings and readied their crossbows, firing to hinder the progression of those stumbling within the gate.
“Fire!”
The deafening thud of the weapon snapping to its resting state almost distracted from the impact a fraction later—and the cries of those who were not instantly dispatched by a glancing blow. Dirt and sword littered the ground, earthen rain clouding the entrance to the place she belonged.
“Reload!”
She levelled her crossbow as more shouts approached. They had waited for a lull in the violence to proceed. One. Two. Ten Lilhuns armed with swords and shields bolted through the dust and debris, blocking the line of fire to those armed with curious containers. Flint was struck, fuses were lit, and the new threat was prepared.
Flickering flames whipped over the mobile bulwark, the first cracking against the ground pointlessly—until the contents inside burst forth and the air was swallowed by the fireball. The second...
Oh no.
“Cover!”
She threw herself off the platform, the other two unable to respond in time, the ammo they carried weighing them down. The inferno swallowed the ballistae and those remaining with it.
The second of the weapons followed the established rhythm without waiting for her to call it, continuing their task even as their kin were incinerated in their periphery. Continued for retribution.
Another bone-shaking impulse. The arsonists were impaled or dismembered. The disoriented swordsmen picked off by the pack with sloppy yet lethal aim. Cries lamented the lack of ammunition.
Sahari picked herself up from the dirt, checking her crossbow and if there was immediate need to use it. Both were fine for the moment. Her head snapped from position to position, searching for more injured. A creak came from behind her. A crackling, splintering groan.
The warning came too late.
The ballistae frame had been largely constructed from oak, the only wood they had known to fragment and pop when exposed to high heat and flame. And fragment it did—cinder and shrapnel firing into the air and those protecting the gate, propelled by tension. She felt the sting, but her clenched jaw was for those who could feel no more.
It hurt, burned, but she was okay. She dug the sharp fragment out of her shoulder.
They had wounded. Six, one of which might not last long enough to be carried to the medics. Her rush towards the injured stopped, plasma making itself known. She threw herself against the wall of a den, a passing thought trying to remember which group lived there. The carpenter mates? Perhaps, though Sahari couldn’t recall if they had taken to the company of others enough to leave the barracks once they had finally decided to mark each other.
Familiar voices cut short as new rounds from plasma-casters seared the air, covering the advance of more melee fighters as her own pack dragged incapacitated allies away from incoming fire. The gentle reassurances cooed to them somehow filtered through the shouting—grim, yet hopeful. She swung her crossbow up, slamming it to her shoulder and sighting the first gun-wielder she could see. The crossbow flinched in her paws. The gunner dropped.
The swordsmen didn’t.
Twenty broke through, supported by one in the rear using a rifle—though thankfully, not like the one Tel had returned with. Bursts of four and five rounds were loosed as she distanced herself from the ballistae...and from those suffering their last, her order of retreat complied with by those who could. The only thing stronger than the grief she felt was one of the injured security members.
The male lifted his crossbow, struggling to support even that much with his perforated stomach and scorched limbs. He didn’t care, pulling the trigger as an attacker rushed him. The bolt jolted through the form of the enemy, yet another took their place to pierce the heart of the courageous. He passed to the Great Hunt with both smug expression and one extra kill to his service, a knife jammed into the elbow of his final opponent, the act of spite hindering his foe.
“Point Two!” Sahari roared, loading her crossbow to fire another shot, finishing what the departed had started. Several others joined her, the rain of bolt and arrow buying them time. They needed time. The others moved onward to the rally point, war-game after war-game drilling in these simple monikers for highly defensible positions within the settlement. She slid behind improvised cover to join them, reloading her weapon as quickly as she could. She had to take back her zone. Get to the injured who played dead so that the act would not become reality.
The gate had been breached, and it was all they could do to hold them back. All was not lost, but it certainly made everything else harder.
“Tersa, Precious,” a jovial male called, casually walking up to the mayhem, his unbothered stride standing out amongst the tension and stress. “Could you deliver a present to our uninvited guests for me?”
Sahari blinked as Toril opened his long coat and started plucking vial-like containers from custom pockets sewn into the lining. He selected a larger canister and tossed it towards the roof of a den, only for the Blade to slip from a shadow and catch it before sprinting out of sight. The white-furred male stopped next to Sahari, glancing down with his disconnected smile.
“They are quite rude, no?”
The canister the Blade took flew through the air, landing amidst the attackers taking cover from arrows. Instantly, the area was consumed by powder, coughing and choked screaming preceding the affected running away in random directions, only for them to fall writhing and struggling for breath. The pack was quick to dispose of them. Toril frowned, putting away another vial he had prepared.
“What was—”
“—An experiment using one of the Grand Hunter’s ideas,” he interrupted flatly, his voice cold. A short breath, and the smile returned. “I believe our assigned assistant has been tampering with my concoctions.”
Footfalls from behind had her crossbow snap to the new target, a foot stopping it from completing the travel. Tersa didn’t even register the black-furred female, merely holding her leg out until the weapon was lowered. Satisfied, she addressed the tail-less male.
“The gate has been cleared; the powder travelled in the breeze and caused an evacuation. I would advise against reclaiming it for the moment.” The Blade glanced down at Sahari. “Atmo are on the way to reclaim the wounded.”
The ex-Grand Huntress nodded in her stupor, standing and centring herself. There was more to be done. “Toril, what else do you have?”
The male blinked, reaching into his coat and inspecting his inventory. “Several corrosives, some experimental chemical explosives, two more containers of that powder, a supply of sealant for wounds—though I would recommend saving it for only the most dire of them, it is rather impossible to remove once set—and a sample of the Grand Hunter’s urine.”
She shunted her eyes closed, purposely ejecting that last item out of her mind. “Are you able to assist the other points?”
Toril tilted his head. “We are to defend, no?”
“I was under the impression you wished to avoid conflict,” she pointed out warily, feeling unease at his broadening smile. He nodded firmly.
“I am, but I am not participating in conflict.” He chuckled darkly, producing another container that filled the air with poison. “I am conducting research.”
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Scarlet and Faye reached the ship of the UM members they had been acquainted with prior, the craft sealed from the inside. She dropped from the trees and jogged up to the entrance, knocking on the door. A brief thought mused that her attire may set them on edge, but she had little time to worry about such. A speaker crackled from an unknown location, a synthesized female voice sounding out.
“Give me a reason why I don’t kill you right now, unknown one.”
Scarlet removed her mask, stepping back for the camera she suspected to be in use to see her better. She folded her paws over her lap and bowed, struggling to keep the stress out of her voice.
“Apologies, Tech. I am Scarlet, servant of the Grand Hunter.”
A long moment of pause strained her nerves.
“Quite the curious outfit,” the female finally commented. “I take it you did not come out here merely to show off something disturbing.”
“Correct,” Scarlet confirmed, straightening her posture. She was about to act without any order—something that no Blade would humour. It was above her station, her worth, and her purpose. This wasn’t some extension of her task; this was a selfish decision made without consultation with her betters. As a Blade, could she really step beyond her purview like this?
No, but she was no longer a mere Blade.
“We seek aid,” the dark red-furred Wraith stated confidently. “Hasen has gathered his forces and is assaulting the settlement.”
The voice projected over the speaker switched to the male, Leader. “Greetings, Scarlet. I’ll get to the point; what do you expect us to do about it?”
She looked back at Faye, the dark gold-furred female anxiously glancing towards their settlement.
The assumption struck her as odd. Their settlement. Not a stationing, not an assigned place of operation. It had gone far beyond a place they functioned, and had become a reason they functioned. She smiled as she looked back at the suspected camera.
“Weapons, if you are able. We cannot ask that you risk life and limb for those not of your kin, but at least that much would ensure our survival more than prayer and false hope.”
The doors hissed open, revealing the dark green-furred male and purple-furred female standing with their arms crossed, the usual armament strapped to their bodies. The male spoke first.
“What makes you think we have guns to just pass along without receiving anything in return?”
Scarlet nodded in understanding. “You owe a favour to the Grand Hunter, no?”
“That is not yours to claim.”
Faye dropped down, Leader stopping Tech from pulling her weapon. The other Wraith stood by Scarlet’s side, removing her mask and bowing.
“Please, we require assistance. Do not let perish that which may be a boon to our people.”
“A boon?” Tech scoffed. “What, more of those humans to bond to our kind?”
“If not just them, then the Atmo,” Faye continued, gaze fixed downward. “They seek nothing but companionship and are excellent craftsmen and carpenters. They would be insurmountable in assisting with construction of facilities.”
Leader held a paw up to interject. “You make a promise of assistance when military occupation of the planet occurs?”
She shook her head. “I speak not for the master, but he will return favour with favour.”
The male crossed his arms. “Such would be worth little if he perishes before being able to return it.”
A tear dropped from the gold-furred female, Scarlet blinking her surprise as Faye’s voice cracked. “Please. Many have found where they belong within those walls, and even now they fight to protect it. How long has it been since sides were forgotten and we were driven by anything but survival? They have learned to thrive under conditions that others merely live in, and have formed companionship with those that would otherwise be treated as threats. We are stronger for what has been given to us, even if ones such as yourself seek not to be included. We only ask for the tools to keep what we have.”
Leader cycled a breath. “Where is the Grand Huntress?”
“She is with the Grand Hunter,” Scarlet provided, not entirely sure how to feel about her other being openly emotional. Faye had become softer since caring for the wolves, that much was obvious, but there was an edge to her voice that begged any to believe that it had made her weaker.
“And they are defending the settlement?”
“They will return soon,” she clarified.
The male hummed in thought, glancing at his purple-furred other. “How many have we produced?”
She glared at him before rolling her eyes. “We have about ten.”
Leader nodded, turning his eyes back to the two Wraiths. “Then you are to take those,” he decided, raising a paw to stop them from bowing their gratitude. “However, this will be used during our negotiations. Aiding what amounts to an alien force is questionable at best.”
“Of course,” Scarlet affirmed, joining Faye in her display of thankfulness. “It will remain our top priority to ensure all know of your generosity.”
The male laughed, motioning for Tech to fetch the items. She shook her head in disapproval before doing as instructed. “It is a fairly selfish motivation I hold for doing this. I always wanted to be a hero in some form or another. Save a developing colony, pull kit and feeble from burning den, that kind of thing. Perhaps the mindset of a hopeful young kit, but one I hold all the same.”
“Then this would be a valiant step towards such prestige, no?”
“Hardly,” he snorted, chuckling for a moment longer. “None will remember the name of one who has naught to call, for something they cannot claim to have done with good intentions.”
Scarlet’s expression turned serious—firm, but genuine. “The Guardian does not forget those who assist him. Your aid will be venerated by those who follow him. You will have belonging, should you wish it.”
Leader stared for a while, nodding calmly. “I will remember such promises.”
Tech returned to the entrance of the ship, two harnesses laden with CARD, pistol, and rifle slung over her shoulder as the weapons clacked against each other. She walked forward cautiously and presented them to the Wraiths. “There are two spare batteries for each in the pockets. This is as much as you’re getting from us. Don’t make us regret it.”
They accepted, putting the equipment on over their armour. It was uncomfortable, but necessary. They repeated the bow, turning on their pads and sprinting away. Leader’s voice called out just as Scarlet was about to disappear into the foliage.
“I expect gifts when we next visit!”
She smirked, the weight of the provided armament sure to leave her panting and worn by the time they returned. Without another word, she nodded, taking to the trees.
The master would likely provide more than simple gifts once everything is done.
She just needed to get the weapons back so that there was a settlement left to visit.