Chapter 67: High Hunter
“High Hunter, we are approaching the settlement.”
Bratik shifted his gaze to the trees pointlessly, knowing that the Blades would only be seen if they wished to be. “Are they aware of our arrival?”
“Possibly. There may be no members around their gate, but there are also no signs of the Blades they possess.”
He fixed his grip on the hurried weapon that was given to him in preparation of leading the caravan. It was a curious item; flexible wood bound by thin twisted strands at the end which would launch ammunition at a distance. Apparently, Loptr and his pack learned of the methods to create this item through trade, but nothing further was afforded to him other than the most basic of usage instructions and ten projectiles for it. It was no rifle, but it seems to have already resulted in remarkable improvements in hunting.
The four escorts he begrudgingly brought along from the curious packs also carried them, but the reliability of such prototype armament required them to be armed more traditionally as well. The four of his own pack were not afforded such luxury, instead given just basic weapons to supplement their claws.
Bratik scoffed, weary after spending five suns carrying this troupe just to make good on an arrangement he had no say in creating, all because the previous High Hunter Kahn had broken some contract with Grand Hunter Trill and perished as a result.
Receiving the news that he would be promoted from a station as a Low Hunter to one of a High Hunter was surprising enough. Being given domain over the pack instead of splintering off to begin his own settlement had almost seemed too good to be true.
It was. His first task as a High Hunter was to leave his mate behind to supervise and look after the servants that were unable to be supported by their various packs.
He glanced over his shoulder at the pitiful state they were in. Though his ashen-grey fur was matted and his muscles sore, it paled in comparison to those struggling to venture forth. Many of the servants were on the verge of starvation. Some were just painfully malnourished, despite his best attempts to provide for them with what little he had. It may have been a wasteful use of his supplies, but he refused to accept such a line of thought. It pained him to watch people who had embraced the effort to assist their own, only to be deemed worthless for one reason or another and set aside to feed off scraps that would barely fuel them through the sun—assuming they received that much at all.
His food stores would be barren by the time they had returned, but at least he tried to make their last suns a brighter affair. He knew not of the mysterious Grand Hunter he was tasked with communing with, but the rumours around the male did not paint a hopeful picture for the ones who were to be left in his claws, should Bratik choose to believe them.
Threats of violence held behind a thin veneer of disarming platitudes, as well as being the indirect demise of Bratik’s previous superior, promised naught but further abuse for the ones who were ferried to his domain.
That is to say nothing of the hushed whisper that he had drawn a blade on Grand Hunter Trill and lived.
“I fear he may have disposed of them as well, should his temperament match his legend.”
The silence from the trees suggested that the Blade had dispersed again, off to observe the settlement and complete whatever assignment they had been tasked with before accompanying the caravan.
Although Bratik held no doubts that such Blades would hardly be given to another pack, the fact that the ones on loan to him could not parse the existence of their others despite similar training implied that this Grand Hunter ‘Joseph’ had found little use in them and removed them entirely, if not purposed them as a toy for his release.
Four wagons, one of which carried the ill servants, were brought along. Only one of them was supplies that Bratik had brought along for the trip—now but a mere fraction of what it was supposed to be. He sighed, broaching the treeline with interest and trepidation towards what he might see of the settlement, though hopeful to glean some knowledge that may prove useful should he need to protect his own.
He would fight his way out with the servants in tow if need be. He had the new weapons and Blades. He would keep them safe.
It would be an effort, if the sparse information he had was correct. Their members were apparently well trained and coated with curious armour. The pack was said to be at least fifty strong and headed by a male of dubious nature.
Even if they were to escape with only half of their number, they could send for his mate and some of the pack to be of aid in recovering them. The thirty members of the caravan was only nine of the combat-able, the rest being the likely sacrifices of those in Grand Hunter Trill’s domains who failed to support their cost, but even then, they would be worth retrieving. It was a sickening reality of their situation, but one he was reliant on all the same.
The first thing that he saw as the dense foliage parted before him were the walls.
Large silver wooden barricades that removed the expectant scouting he wished to do before he committed to entering the settlement proper. The sounds of people coming and going throughout was absent, replaced instead by the slight rustle of leaves and distant wildlife. One of his pack pointed towards the far end of one of the walls, a single black-furred Lilhun standing at the corner with an absurdly large axe propped against his shoulder. Checking that all of his escort had ready access to their weapons, they proceeded towards the male, the slight grinding of the dirt-sodden wheels on the carts being the only ambience they were subjected to, despite their proximity to what should be a pack beyond the barrier.
The ramparted settlement was massive, all things considered. What drives this Grand Hunter to construct such fortifications? How much abuse does a pack need to suffer to build such under one’s command? Was it designed to keep what may threaten his pack out, or to keep them from escaping?
He feared to find out, but he was a High Hunter, and he must appear imperturbable.
“State your rank and affiliation, new ones,” the male called as they neared, his deep bass combined with his thick armour and axe cutting an imposing figure. Bratik quickly composed himself, motioning with his tail for his group to remain vigil.
“High Hunter Bratik. I am in service under Grand Hunter Trill to fulfill a trade agreement with Grand Hunter Joseph.”
The male grunted in affirmation with a flick of his eyes towards the top of the wall, though nothing seemed to be there when Bratik followed suit. A short nod was afforded before the male turned his back and walked along the length of it towards whence he came. A wave of his paw beckoned them to follow. “Jax, Head of Security. The Grand Hunter awaits your arrival.”
Bratik glanced back at his caravan, the escorts deferring to him for judgment of the brusque treatment. A breath was needed to prepare his bravado. “Does he not feel it prudent to greet us himself? Perhaps a Paw to show his respect if not?”
He knew that one such as a Grand Hunter need not deign to burden himself with such trivial matters, but Bratik sought to parse the nature of the ones below him to glean what may be telling of the nature of their better.
The male stopped, turning his head to the left to look back at him. A slight scar resting just below the brow framed the unsettling regard aimed in his direction, the eye piercing through him, yet seemingly seeing far more than should be possible. The voice steeled with certainty as Head Jax imparted his warning. “You do not wish him to see your caravan personally, High Hunter.”
The Head continued forward with no further words, his cryptic message sowing unease in the escort. Biting back the urge to draw his new weapon, the male forced a scoff and gestured for the caravan to follow. No shows of power would unsettle him enough to falter. He was there for but one reason, then he would return to his den. He would go back to keep his pack safe.
He whispered a prayer to the Hunt Mother, a wish that they would be given protection from that which may seek to harm them as they ventured towards the entrance of the unknown.
A slow breeze rolled over the grass in response, the warmth at odds with the moist brisk air they had been begrudgingly tolerating since they awoke. It was likely a coincidence, but he chose to believe she had heard his request so far from her domain. Reassured by his faith, he walked along the wall, nearing the obvious entry to the settlement.
Though evidently unfinished, the gate was quite a sight. Two connected rooms on either side offered a view beyond the wall for those on watch without compromising the safety of those tasked to do such. It was reminiscent of a guard checkpoint upon military bases, rather than anything that may have existed in a civilian sector, so that perhaps lent credence to the suspicion that this Grand Hunter may have been a third-year, or perhaps a fully ranked member of command that somehow escaped the ship.
Two Lilhuns greeted the Head with a short conversation, allowing Bratik time to peer beyond into the constructions as one left to do something else.
Though he lacked the angle to view it all properly, what he did see was not enough to support the numbers reported, unless many were packed within smaller holdings. There existed some outdoor lavatories, a water tower, a broad structure he suspected to be a warehouse, and six buildings he was unable to glean a dedicated function, though three seemed to be dens. The only structures of note were a large two-story construction which several Lilhuns stood outside of, and a distant building that seemed completely alien in design.
The large stretches of unoccupied space and framework of constructions suggested that the area was still firmly in the process of development, which would be strange for one who had accrued enough to be a Grand Hunter—ignoring the smaller numbers reported. Regardless, the mostly unpopulated area did little to give confidence in the lives of those who dwelled within.
“You will leave that which you have brought with Nalah,” Head Jax announced, gesturing to a female he had been speaking with who seemed to be just shy of hostile. The female sent for some people and carried the wagons of servants and materials further into the settlement, a black-furred female coldly escorting the able-bodied after they had reached some distance in.
Bratik felt the turbulent air shimmer throughout the settlement, though the lack of population rendered the effect subdued. He knew not why they seemed so irascible with his presence, but he was almost finished his task, and as such, would not commit thought to the trivial. “Lead me to the Grand Hunter so that I may complete the trade properly.”
Head Jax lightly placed a paw on his shoulder as he stepped towards the guarded building, the touch firm yet passive. Although he had halted the High Hunter’s advance, the words were delivered softly, as if giving advice to an old friend. “You could leave as you are, if you wish. We have received what you have brought.”
It was a conflicting feeling imparted upon him by the Head, part of him worried that he may fall to harm for daring to enter the settlement at all, but another feeling as if it was a warning of kindness. He clamped down on the wavering determination, committing to his act as best he could.
“You seek to disturb the doings of your betters?” Bratik's spat, shrugging off the appendage as his escort felt for their weapons. It took considerable effort not to show his concern for those that were leaving his protection, but now was not the time to abandon his facade.
The male shook his head in defeat. “As you wish, High Hunter.”
He stepped forward, guiding the group towards the collection of armed Lilhuns. The Head stopped in front of the entrance, motioning for the security to halt the rest of Bratik’s members.
“Before we continue, it would be wise to enter the meeting alone, High Hunter. It will occur in the guarded office on the second floor. Your escorts may rest on the first as they wait.”
Something about the tone he used implied that the words were no mere suggestion. Bratik confirmed with his pack and those that were assigned to accompany him that they would be able to assist should something happen. The Blades afforded to him should have infiltrated the construction during the short walk there regardless.
“So be it. I take it one of your own will show me the way?”
Head Jax nodded, entering the building and gesturing to a larger room with sparse furniture for the escorts to rest upon before walking some distance along a hallway towards a set of stairs. The second floor was considerably more lavish than the first, elaborate designs adorned the walls with shades of silver and black to give the area a feeling of cold machined precision despite the warmer sun peering through the windows.
The artwork felt as if looking into the complex inner machinations of clockwork, cogs intermingling within each other as they slipped between the subtleties of flowing wood-grain. It was a curious aesthetic, one that itched at some part of himself as he struggled to remember where he may have seen such previously. The engravings were shallow enough that he perhaps should not have been able to notice them with such ease, but his eyes felt drawn into the intricacies that soothed his hardened expectations somewhat.
A single door rested at the end of the hallway, a particularly well-dressed servant bowing politely to greet them. Her shirt was form-fitting, though allowing free range of movement, the sleeves tailored to look as if they were rolled up at the elbow. Her leg-wear was much the same, a functional affair that held to her curves while seeming cleanly and professional rather than provocative in any nature. An apron draped over her front, solidifying the appearance of one who spent a great many years at the behest of their employer.
“The Grand Hunter is awaiting you, High Hunter Bratik.”
The female knowing his name and station surprised him, but before he could question the Head who had led him there, the male was already walking back the way they came. The High Hunter turned back to raise a brow at the servant, their closed eyes and folded paws speaking of calm subservience. For a room to be called ‘guarded’ when all that dwells between himself and the objective of his sojourn is a single servant...
“Do you require anything before you proceed, High Hunter?”
Bratik took a breath, once again confirming his weapons since it was not asked of him to remove them. Even Grand Hunter Trill preferred those who met with him to disarm, and the male held more trouble deciding a cut of meat than slaying those before him. A firm shake of his head was given, the female opening the door and gesturing for him to enter.
The room was something he would have described as opulent in aesthetic, were it not for the lack of adornments besides the convoluted carvings along the wall that seemed to be allusions to various scriptures. He was about to inspect them to parse which they referred, himself fairly well-versed within the confines of the Great Hunt due to his mate, but a muted scent struck his nose which distracted from the delicate depictions before he could make any progress doing such.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Sharply turning his head to find the source, he froze, the distaste building on his pallet muted by the figure which sat across the room behind a broad desk, the sunlight filtering through the window shadowing the details of his face.
What was visible was the skull.
Deep dark sockets surrounding a piercing gaze of peculiar pupils, sharp angles and deep trenches scored along the features, all bleeding down into a long black coat that flowed down his form yet clung to his mass like iron armour.
The Grand Hunter rested his elbows upon the table, his fur-less claws entangled before the haunting muzzle. Not a muscle was moved, yet it felt as if the mere regard of the one across from Bratik had instantly cornered him with his sheer presence. The scent coming from the male was a subdued mixture of confidence and expectation, the air lacquered by it to the point of making it a laborious effort to breath without betraying his notice. An appraisal that felt like his every thought would be scrutinized thoroughly by some higher power.
“Welcome, new one. May we have the pleasure of knowing who seeks an audience?”
The speech ripped his gaze away from the male, focusing upon the source of the deadening smell accompanying the oppressive.
A white-furred female stood to the male’s side, her paws folded before her lap and her expression neutrally, if not slightly disdainfully, guiding her voice. The armour she wore was complex, shields built into the bracers upon her arms, but no weapons were visible upon her form. The sharpest thing about her seemed to be her tongue, considering that even their servants knew of his name. It seemed to be an effort to prompt him to bow in his deference to the male before him.
Games of power irked the High Hunter, especially when the time could be used to assist the weakened souls he had tirelessly brought. It was a fact that loosened his muzzle before he could think through his response.
“A defect presiding alongside a Grand Hunter, is it?” Bratik commented haughtily, leaning into his experience of what others of high station would likely say when shown such blatant disregard as he worked off the pressure he felt. It was important to seem as if one was immovable, lest others think of you to be but something to toy with. “An odd choice of comfort to offer me, no?”
The female’s gaze hardened, her words following his own in a separate tongue. He almost thought it prudent to comment on such as well, but the snap of freezing air stilled his words in his throat as an impulse within him spoke of a grave heretical misstep, not that he could discern why such thought may have been provoked.
The Grand Hunter shared the strange language, the force behind each utterance landing as if fired by canon through the room. The female spoke after an almost imperceptible delay.
“You are within his domain, new one. You would be wise to mind your words. Although we wish not to send you beyond our walls less than which you entered; we will, should your discourtesy remain present.”
The High Hunter pushed past the chill, considering his options before taking stock of his situation. Deciding that he would rather finish his task than start a conflict in a settlement he knew little about, he bowed his head lightly. Any delays caused by his act would detract from the possible treatment of those who required it. “Apologies. I had forgotten my manners along the journey, it seems. This one is known as Bratik, High Hunter under Grand Hunter Trill.”
The frigid air waned, a small smile donning upon the female as she nodded her approval at his amendment. “I am Pan, Paw of Grand Hunter Joseph, the male before you. He is not of our kind and is not fluent in our language, so I will be acting as a mediator between you during this discussion. I will overlook your comment as a show of good faith, though I will not be as forgiving should it reoccur.”
Bratik’s eye twitched, but he knew he had run his mouth too hastily. If he could proceed without issue by merely not mentioning the condition of the defective, so be it. The fact that she holds the position of a Paw suggests unflattering things about the Grand Hunter, but perhaps such a deviant male would stray from the expectations set to him by such idle chatter surrounding him.
He was curious as to what she meant by claiming the male different, but it may have been in reference to the language which was perhaps prevalent among some border colony before the draft. The High Hunter’s eyes were drawn again to the strange claws of the male, but it was possible he had been the victim of injuries that disfigured his paws. The eyes that stared back sent a shiver down his spine, the appraising look stripping Bratik of what pomposity he had managed as he laid bare before the male.
“Of course, Huntress Pan.”
Her posture eased as the male spoke again after receiving translation of his acceptance to their terms, gesturing to a chair across the desk in which for him to rest upon in an amiable lilt. “You may be seated, if you wish. We are unsure of how long this meeting may last, and we imagine you may find yourself weary after your journey.”
Uncertain about the drastic change in tone, he cautiously accepted, making sure to adjust his new weapon so that it would not irritate against the backrest. Being much closer to the male, Bratik could scent a mark upon him, though the same was not to be said of the white-furred female. He noticed her raise a brow at the prototype upon his shoulder.
The Paw flicked an ear as the Grand Hunter spoke. “Your weapon, has it entered commonplace?”
Bratik placed a paw upon his armament defensively, deciding to play up the claims he had explained to him when it was given to him in an effort to skew the conversation in his favour. “It is the latest of its kind and has been afforded to myself and my escorts in preparation for this agreement. It allows us great offensive capability at range and was created by some of the greatest minds we have left.”
The female giggled, catching herself after a moment before resuming her affable display, though not able to remove the humour in her voice. “We are pleased to know our arrangement has warranted such revolutionary arms. It brings us joy to know of advancements that may assist those who need it.”
He fought back his ire at the ‘arrangement’ and her seeming dismissal of the implements at his disposal. Twenty-one sickly and destitute vagrants, each neglected and malnourished by their packs. Ignoring the supplies of metals and such, it seemed that there was an additional shipment to be made of animals and whatever servants that couldn’t be gathered in a timely manner from the surrounding settlements and other Grand Hunter’s who may have shown interest in whatever garnered such trade to begin with.
He exhaled a breath, allotting their disregard to ignorance. It may have been strange for them to seem so pleased by the advent of new distanced weaponry, but they may be positioning to offer trade for them. He struggled to attribute their words to such, however, as they showed little interest in the item beyond hearing of its inception.
It eased him for some reason to hear such encouragement in her voice at the prospect of such armament propagating throughout their people, an inkling of solidarity for those who not lay under their purview yet struggle against the same wilds that they must brave for sustenance and shelter. It was a notion that he himself hoped for when the item was laid in his grasp. Hopes for those like the servants he had brought finding feed and security for their kin without struggling in melee passing his thoughts.
It was a small connection of convictions that softened his opinion of them, those simple words communicating so much more below the surface.
“Part of the agreed upon compensation has been delivered by my paw. I require your signature to confirm you have received them.”
The female paused as he pulled a small collection of paper from a pouch, a question fading on her tongue as she moved to accept it before rejoining the male’s side. “That will be of no issue. Would you like refreshments while we confirm the contents?”
Bratik was about to deny with worries of tampering present in his mind when the door opened. The same servant carried two trays, laying each before those gathered and bowing briskly. Soft words of the strange language were exchanged, the mood of the room worsening in an instant as she left again.
The tray before the High Hunter consisted of several meats, each still steaming from their freshness. Two precisely carved mugs of clear liquids rest on either side of the assortment. Though simple in presentation, it was a display of prosperity that would normally be used to show the difference in power between them, but the idle paw that tossed a portion behind the mask was not connected to a gaze of inspection. There was no posturing nor subtle words pressing their advantage. No silent dare to consume such offerings lay hidden from view. It was simply a gesture of hospitality given in return for his earlier apology.
He glanced up towards the female, her saddened demeanour an unusual shift as she spoke.
“Worry not, we are not ones who use poisons or the like. All are fruits of our efforts that we wish to share. We hope you find some to your liking.”
As strange as the emotions behind the words were, he was hungry. He had been sharing his rations amongst the weakened and often ate little more than enough to function. Even the strange grey cubes seemed appetizing to his neglected stomach.
He tentatively tried the liquids, the left mug proving to be water while the right tasted of ethanol. Opting for the water, he tried a few samples of each of the provided meats, salivating more and more with each bite. It was only when his claws reached for air that he noticed just how famished he had been, finishing his allotment before he was even aware of the dwindling supply. It was sad that he had run out so soon, but he hoped that even a fraction of such would be afforded to those who were brought along.
“What are your plans for the servants?”
He covered his muzzle as the words were voiced, cursing himself for prying into that which he may never unlearn. The soft gaze of the female contrasted with the eerie regard of the Grand Hunter, the male glancing in his direction partially as he skimmed the documents with the Paw’s assistance.
The cadence that responded was one of a mother caring for their kit, kind and accepting. The soft words blanketed his concerns with reassurances of loving embrace and forgiveness. “They will be cared for, Bratik, for they have reached us.”
He blinked, looking at the imposing presence flipping through the pages until he reached the one which detailed the servants. A look of concern passed the Paw’s face, a sharp noise emitted by the male drawing the servant back into the room. With few words exchanged, she left in a slight hurry.
The female gave a weak smile in his direction when she noticed his worry. “We are confirming the status of those you have ferried. That is all.”
The High Hunter found himself clutching the mug in his paw, a defeated tint to his eyes. His caution and fear for those he had watched waste away through the long suns abated, replaced with a curious ease that only grew with the sympathy they showed. The foundations of his distrust crumbled far too readily as the genuine compassion saturated every fraction of her form.
He felt as if he was speaking to a priestess back among the temple, confessing his misgivings and trespasses in an act of piety he had not been able to accommodate since parting from his mate. “They are not well, Huntress Pan.”
The Grand Hunter laid the papers down, giving his undivided attention for the first time as the female translated, a hint of anger in her voice that only made the sadness in it harder to bear. “Explain.”
Bratik swallowed, bowing his head as he stared into the water. His slight reflection mirrored the regret he felt. “Many are ill from malnutrition. Some are merely struggling against starvation. Few are able, but not by much more. I was not informed of their state until it was time to leave. Those of my pack shared our rations, but we are too few to feed so many. It was all we could do to stave off the worst as more and more were unable to continue by their own power. We carried all those we could upon our carts, the long suns pulling them split between us with small hopes that they may find better than what many suggested, but even in our haste we took this long. I worry that they may not fend off the Void if left as they are for much longer.”
The air chilled, a stagnant aura of loss present as his eyes met those of the male who had removed his mask to truly look upon the High Hunter without the barrier of their titles and station.
Though the differences in features were stark, the sadness in his expression was all too clear. It took little more than a brief instant of eye contact to know that the male was pained by the plight of those under his domain. A bereaved soul that mourned the state of the ones brought before him, and ire for those who allowed such to occur.
Bratik couldn’t find it within himself to worry anymore about the alien before him, despite his best efforts to be as such when faced with the true appearance of the one whom he had entered the settlement of with a haphazard notion to be prepared to fight to the last. The Grand Hunter held no ill will towards him in those oddly round pupils whatsoever. All he could see in that sorrowful smile was a small gratitude for the High Hunter’s efforts, an acceptance of his being that melted what freezing he had within himself.
“We can have accommodations for you and your kin before the moon, if you would wish to rest here,” Huntress Pan offered for her mate, her sombre tone mirroring the male’s, though it was delivered as if they were mourners of the same pack sharing in a moment of reciprocity of comfort. “It is the least we could offer you for your considerations in ensuring they reached us.”
“Not all are of my pack,” Bratik mentioned quickly, though he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to clarify.
“Because some are Blades,” a voice called from above before the body of one of those tasked to accompany him fell to the ground with a limp thud, a playful feminine laugh following. “Oops.”
The owner of said voice dropped from a false portion of the ceiling, landing deftly and only sparing a glance at the High Hunter before reaching down to drag the body to the side of the room lazily.
The Paw frowned at the grey-furred female in time with the Grand Hunter. “Must you?”
The new female shrugged. “It is hardly my fault that this male brought them. Less so that they allowed such riffraff to become such. Were it not for the telltale signs, I would have assumed them little more than kits who had outgrown their caution.”
Bratik took a moment to process what he was seeing. Blades are known to be ghosts. Lethal and untraceable. Chosen by weeding out the chaff through bloody trials, the most fearsome or efficient remaining to be unleashed upon those that drew the ire of those in control of them. The only thing known to reliably dispose of a Blade is another of their kind. For this one to speak so lowly of them...
He looked at the female, struggling to see the subdued and hardened exterior of the notorious assassins and spies on the relaxed and casual Lilhun that seemed more concerned with observing the room than what she had delivered to it. “You are of the Blades allotted to this settlement?”
She gave him a bored sigh, waving him off with a paw as she examined the script along the wall. “It is an insult to compare me to them. It was barely a chore to deal with him.”
The door opened to the room, the servant carrying the other Blade over her shoulder before depositing the body next to the first. She offered a bow before leaving again, a single paw flattening her apron as Bratik’s slack-jawed stare followed her exit.
Huntress Pan broke his stupor, a caution to her words that was not directed at himself. “What of those not of your own?”
His eyes flicked to the bodies laying against the wall, struggling to move them from the corsp-
“They are unconscious,” the grey-furred one interrupted with an annoyed huff. “They are here for me and are expected to return. Unfortunately, I must allow them to.” A lust worked its way into her lilt, her grin unsettling him as her eyes narrowed with desire. “Now, they were to come for him...”
“Then they would be disposed of without notification,” the Paw finished impatiently, an expectant look in his direction got the message across. He was shown them to prove a point, though he was under the impression that it was displayed past a moment in which it would be needed. “Our apologies for the disruption. As we were discussing, what of the others?”
He steadied his breath, choosing to answer the question honestly now that it had been made clear that he would have already been removed if they wished it so. “Four are of my pack. The other four are of the various High Hunters under Grand Hunter Trill.”
The strange Grand Hunter mumbled something, a fist placed to his lips while the new female sauntered to his side. A curious raise of Bratik’s brow earned him a belated summary. “He worries they may be of lesser character than your own.”
Although the compliment should have seemed vapid or disingenuous, Bratik couldn’t help but feel that the words were entirely sincere. They greatly valued his determination in doing what he could to prolong the lives of those brought to this place. The weight on his shoulders lessened, speech becoming less and less of a burden before them.
Why did he feel so validated?
“They are likely little more than informants seeking information about the newest to the treaty,” he responded, shaking his head slowly to dismiss their importance. “Beyond questioning my sanity for sharing my supplies to the indisposed, they did little besides watch as those in need faded.”
The male exhaled heavily, nodding in understanding before speaking to the grey-furred female, the latter closing what little distance there was with a giggle and nipping at the Grand Hunter’s neck before calling the servant to assist in removing the unconscious Blades from the room.
“Then they will not be afforded the meal we will prepare for you,” Huntress Pan replied with a warm but strained smile that followed the other female before it focused on him. The Grand Hunter produced a quill and ink, scribbling his signature upon the paper before doing the same upon his own duplicate of the invoice while he grumbled something that the Paw merely laughed quietly at, her tail subtly wrapping around his leg.
Bratik closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “We will be fine for another moon. Please, deliver our portion to them. I know it may not be much, but they are of greater need.”
The male stopped writing, the Paw offering his words in the same pained tone. “You have already done much for us, Bratik. Ensuring they arrive whole at the cost of yourself was more than many would have striven for.”
She spoke again as she passed over the other copy of the document. “We must make arrangements for the new members, but feel free to ask for any of the Heads should you require something during your stay. If it is of great importance, you may ask for the Grand Hunter personally.”
He placed the papers back into the pouch, curious as to what may require the male to oversee much of anything that Bratik might find himself encountering. “Why might I seek his aid?”
The male donned his mask again, though seeing the face of the one who wore it had removed most of the unease it held. The Paw replied for him. “There are many reasons that may come to pass. Though you are not of our pack, your actions speak of one we would wish to assist, should the time come. Please think of it as returning your kindness should you be in need of us in future, High Hunter Bratik. We will leave first, as there is much for us to do, but the female outside will escort you to your kin.”
He blinked as they walked past him, a soft nod afforded as they exited the room. He found himself staring out the window as a warm breeze brushed his fur gently, the very wind alleviating the last of his reluctance regarding them. He took a breath, wishing for a sign that he may have found that which he had been seeking since his mate had offered him comfort in the temple’s teachings so long ago.
“Is there something I should say specifically if such a need arises, if I were to arrive in dire straits? A message I might use to prove my favour?”
He turned around, seeing that the Paw had paused in the doorway in front of the mural etched into the wall he had not been facing when he entered. His eyes widened as he recognized the fragments of scripture that wound and intertwined to form a large mechanical eye that seemed to gaze into the room warmly, the soft vigilance portrayed promising safe haven for the weary. The moon of their home-world that was said to belong to...
“The Guardian,” she replied softly. “Ask for The Guardian’s protection, and you will find sanctuary within our walls.”
He stared as the door closed behind her, prayer slipping voiceless through his lips.