Chapter 75: A Meeting
Tel awoke earlier than her Sheath, feeling slightly embarrassed that she had fallen asleep after the events, but was genuinely too pleased with the results to pay much mind to it. Once she had freed him, that is.
A bath and preparations of the wolf she had stored in the coolers—those being the ones that Joseph had talked about enough for her to locate while he was busy—passed enough time for her male to stir. She was not unaware of the gaze that fixed on her bare form from behind, nor the slight tint of heat it caused, but she had neglected to account for the intensity of the moon in her scheduling and so she was making sure he would do more than snack on near-meaningless jerky when he could have something more substantial instead.
“G’mornin, beautiful,” he announced once he had apparently had his fill of enjoying the sights at a distance, a lazy roll off the bed bringing him to his feet. He winced when he tried to manoeuvre his shoulders, taking a few moments to stretch them out with eyes searching the air for the reason they felt so stiff, the reverie quickly followed by a deep breath and a slight blush when he remembered.
Tel smirked, keeping her back to him so as not to show the absolute serenity she couldn’t wipe from her expression no matter how hard she tried. She had done it. The final trial of a Blade was not surviving selections, but their chosen Sheath surviving the truest moment of weakness. She had surpassed what her blood-mother could not.
It wasn’t some cosmic curse, nor a plight imparted upon those who ran contrary to the more benevolent of the Hunt Mother’s Aspects, but a game of opportunity for other Blades and those who led them. What better way to remove the competition than to sever their ties when weapons were removed?
That was something she was worried about for the longest time. A Blade connecting with their Sheath for the first time was to be done as they were, not as they were forged. No quills, no daggers, no armour, no cloth nor leathers. Naught but her claws and the fur she was born with. Only when one was taken at their base were they truly sheathed.
It was an effort for her to get past her anxiety long enough to fully disrobe, but Joseph had managed a way to seal themselves in a vault of metal, a rudimentary lock to prevent all but those in possession of arms that few on this planet would own. There was still some risk that ones who had such would attack, but it was the most guarded she could ask for.
She protected him to their destination as a Blade, connected with him as Phantom, and now was hopelessly swaying her tail along with her hips at the thought of ensuring he was well nourished as ‘Tel’. It was a foreign sensation to her, for what it was. Rarely in her life had she ever drawn the distinction between her facets—each intermingling as requirements dictated—but at the moment, she felt no need to bear arms, no need to disappear and soak in her environment for information. He had accepted her in each way by placing his faith in her abilities, embracing her nature, and even now his presence was nothing but a comforting warmth throughout her. She just wished to linger in the scents of their pairing.
It was so close to perfect, but she couldn’t quite place what she felt was missing.
“Tel?”
She flicked an ear, her eyes fluttering as she returned to the moment instead of lingering in her ruminations. “Yes?”
A paw touched her hip, it tenderly followed by its other as he guided himself to rest his jaw against her shoulder, his scent far more intoxicating than any drug she had been forced to build tolerance to during her training. It took all her willpower not to brighten like a kit at his touch, his voice resonating deep within her as the gravel tone gave his words a husky quality that sent a shiver through all the right places. “I called out a few times. You okay?”
“I’m well, my male,” she replied softly, her mind working out the curiosity in the background as her traitorous tail, it usually being content to simply warn others when she had lowered past an arbitrary level of amusement, curled around him as if she was a young one dragging their favourite possession.
A flicker of doubt existed within her until her tail captured its target, his arm now wrapped thoroughly. Once he noticed the involuntary touch, it disappeared, replaced by a salve of contentment that accompanied his light kiss to her ear. “Okay. I’ll go wash up. Think that will be done by the time I’m done? I’m starved.”
Her smile returned at the mild embarrassment paired with the fulfillment he exuded. “I would hope so, unless you favour charcoal for your meal.”
He chuckled, his paw drawing her muzzle for a peck she used to nip at his lip before he wandered off to the bath. “Thank you.”
She absently finished preparing the food, her thoughts swirling slightly as she remembered the sounds, the touch, the taste. It was everything she had wanted from him, and there was a certain weight lifted knowing that the biggest hurdle had been cleared for her. All there was to do now was to admit that their peace must end, her male needing to return to the den and care for his pack.
She sighed, turning off the heating surface. She listened to the sound of the shower turning on in the bathroom, a pull within her demanded her mate’s presence stronger than she had felt before. Though part of her merely wished to bask in his scent, another part wished an encore of the moon prior.
Her tail twirled in its usual pattern as she caved to both desires, her tongue rolling past her lips in preparation and anticipation.
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Scarlet smiled lightly, her head lowered and paws folded as she was taught. She had been asked by the master’s bond to oversee their kit as the Atmo wished to assist in gathering ‘healroot’, an organic bandage often used for external wounds within the settlement. She accepted, the small white-furred female being the closest thing to a handler she had while her true owners were managing other tasks.
She didn’t mind the reassignment, as temporary as it was. The female seemed to act within the same confines as the master, though held a softer touch than him. The order to keep Violet company was phrased as a friendly request—one that could be denied with no repercussions. To Scarlet, that was as foolish a notion as believing one who was trapped beneath the waters could fly. Or it should have been.
She felt different since her reforging, the lessons ingrained within her and the kind guiding paw of her master making even the world around her more than analysis of cover and vantage points. She could view the waving golds of grass, the glimmering silvers of the sun glinting off the muted trees, the oddly blue clouds rolling lazily though the orange sky. It didn’t change her tactical perception of the world, but it did colour it beautifully.
Her ear pivoted as several of her kind meandered through the trees, their overwatch being something they had volunteered for to protect the young Queen, the three of them stopping every so often to peer through the foliage and communicate silently upon spotting wildlife that Violet should be directed away from.
“Young mistress,” Scarlet prompted, drawing the Atmo’s attentions away from her harvesting. The kit placed her materials within her pouch, a cursory check being given to determine how much she had gathered so far. “It would be wise to adjust our course. There is a beast ahead if we continue this way.”
Violet looked in the direction the dark red-furred female indicated, raising one of several tablets she kept over her shoulder that ended up being used quite often. [Thank you, Scarlet]
The Blade bowed politely. “It is my duty, young mistress.”
The Queen shook her head disapprovingly, a direct mimicking of the master’s mannerism. With a suggestion from one of those hidden from view, they adjusted their path to another area rich in the materials they sought.
A curious sharp sound came from the Atmo, its melodic nature surprisingly close to what the master would perform when he found himself in thought and of little audience. “Whistling, young mistress?”
Violet nodded, breaking her tempo as her thoughts were distracted. She pulled a tablet that was used for shorter questions, a new one marked in a free space and pointed to. [Can you?]
Scarlet chuckled, a distant snap in the forest quickly signalled as a successful elimination of wildlife that would be brought back to the settlement and deposited amongst the rest without notice. She flicked an ear in assent as she replied to the kit. “I can not.”
Another scratching was placed in the diminishing margins. [Try?]
A small smile crested her muzzle, a series of smaller attempts and an entire tablet worth of tips and instructions were written, most of them seeming to be what her adoptive blood-father had said when passing along the knowledge. It was humorous to oblige the strange request, but the excited behaviour of the kit made it an enjoyable one nonetheless. Eventually, she managed to warble a simple tune of three notes, Violet bouncing and clicking her approval. [Good job!]
“Your praise is wasted, young mistress.”
A new whistle from above drew her eyes, both opening fully to observe and determine if defensive action would be required. A strange avian tilted its head from a tree above her, a repeat of the whistling melody given, and it seemed to be expecting a response. Violet tapped a tablet. [Try?]
She raised a brow, but reciprocated the tune, a claw keeping contact with a knife. The avian dropped a few branches closer, bobbing as it fixed the placement of its feet. The pure black eyes looked at her through turned regard, the feathers shimmering between gold and auburn in the sunlight. She waited for it to do something, repeating the melody it gave yet again.
It dropped to the ground at her feet, its head tilting side to side as if trying to make sense of her. A tap to her right drew her eyes slowly.
[Food?] Violet held the tablet, her own head tilted in curiosity at the interaction. Scarlet subtly checked her stores, finding some meat that was given to her in case the kit became hungry before they were to return. Drawing a portion carefully, she eased herself into a low crouch, offering the morsel forward to the avian.
It didn’t accept the sustenance at first, hopping from side to side to inspect what was presented. Moments passed, the young mistress slowly lowering herself to the ground to observe the creature as it milled closer and closer to the meat.
Bated breath preceded it tentatively accepting the treat, the avian taking flight as quickly as it appeared and melding into the trees without a sound. Scarlet watched with wide eyes and genuine interest. What a strange creature.
Excited chittering had her blink herself out of her mild amazement, the bouncing Queen rapidly tapping her sign. [Good job!]
Scarlet chuckled, finding herself more and more endeared to the master’s kit. “Of course, young mistress. Shall we continue?”
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She dismissed the Blades, a somewhat strange shift in the power dynamics of their group effectively placing her as their superior, and requiring her to do as such when they were otherwise free of instructions. It was the outcome of her being the first to be reforged, as well as her noticeable difference in skill once she had internalized the teachings of the master.
The others were not the same as her, not quite. Where she felt as if her calling was tied to that which the master created, they felt theirs belonged with the mistress. It was serendipitous that her fate was tied to him, so the goals of the reforged aligned deeply. There were passing thoughts regarding the loyalties to their previous Blademaster, but none would think about it much beyond feeling a sense of self within the confines of their new placement.
As amusing as it was, there was no denying that none of them had been identified as Blades by the ones visiting, despite Scarlet’s involvement in disabling one of them. At the time it was simply a mild annoyance for her to notice the approach of the female, a slight pull within her to remove the intruder stilled by knowing the master would disapprove if she fell into baser instinct. Instead, she removed the consciousness of the female and deposited the heap with her other, happily returning to her duties once such a superfluous task was completed swiftly.
Seeing as how the master’s Blades were rumoured to have been removed, if not repurposed, there was a moment of contemplation amongst the other three. After they had considered what had separated them from their previous kin, they had approached Scarlet and asked to be made in kind. Though the request had struck her queer—she was hardly the utmost authority for them after all—she had passed along their wishes.
Now Scarlet seemed to be the representative for them, which drew an amused smile at times.
A whisper in the wind floated into her ears between the buildings as she did her casual patrol throughout the settlement, the comings and goings of the pack paying her no mind and parting for her like water around a rock. “The mistress returns.”
Scarlet’s ear flicked in confirmation, a glance to the sky confirming that they were returning during the later portion of their expected arrival time. Though the lack of details suggested all was well, the Blade would ease at the sight of seeing the master safe.
She adjusted her course, heading towards the den of her betters to inform her current handler of the information. A knock upon the large doors led to them being opened by a large red Atmo, Rose clicking happily to see Scarlet being the one wishing entry. The blackish red-furred female bowed politely.
“Greetings, Rose. I have come to deliver news to Huntress Pan.”
The insect nodded, pulling the door the rest of the way once they had adjusted their blade and gesturing for Scarlet to enter. The quiet laughter in the dormitories suggested that Head Jax and Head Harrow were bothering Head Sahari, the missing planner was outside handling the construction of walkways on the walls. Rose pointed towards the facilities wing, bowing politely as they excused themselves to return to their activities.
Returning the gesture in thanks, she meandered towards the sewing room, finding the Paw peacefully crafting clothing with a small smile upon her muzzle.
“Huntress Pan, the master will be entering the settlement soon. Do you wish to greet him at the gate?”
The white-furred female glanced up from her work, a warm expression given towards the Blade as she considered it before shaking her head. “I will greet him in the hub. Should there have been no issues, then I would like to present this to Tel sooner rather than later. Little will be lost if I join the others in welcoming him back.”
Scarlet nodded to accept her decision, one eye cracked to regard the item being created. Though odd, especially given the pairing, the Huntress seemed rather smitten with the mistress. It was a curious result given many circumstances that none thought possible. It was not her place to judge the whims of her betters, and no tenets had been disregarded, so she stayed her tongue on the matter entirely.
“As you wish, Huntress Pan.”
The female returned to her work, her tail swaying happily behind her with the knowledge her mate would return soon. Scarlet shook her head in mock disapproval and decided to inform the others in the den of his arrival.
Jax and Harrow smirked at one another, both bickering and shoving to be the first to greet the master, though Scarlet was fairly sure they wished to settle a bet as their primary motivation. It was rather curious to see those of high station playfully banter, the experience with such before having imparted a very strict hierarchy amongst likewise, but the Blade couldn't help but feel at ease seeing each member so jovial.
Sahari was an amusing reaction to behold, the female wincing as she bolted to her feet on account of the minor injury. As soon as the words were out of Scarlet’s muzzle, the black-furred female had passed by, trying not to seem in a hurry with not one iota of recognition given towards the one who informed her.
The master had confided that he was aware of a bond formed within the female. Something so rare happening twice would have been dismissed as mere fantasy, but the male had already gained such a connection from a defective, so Scarlet simply accepted his words as truth. If there was anything she was sure of, it was that the Human seemed to cause many oddities.
A cursory check of the remaining members within the den led her to informing Mama and the young mistress of Joseph’s return, the larger of the two having been sculpting something within her room while the kit seemed content to assist in teaching the Human’s strange script when the other wasn’t busy. Mama clicked and gestured before looking to the den-kit, the latter nodding and scratching something on a small tablet.
[Mama said that she will be out some time later, and thank you for telling us, Scarlet.]
The Blade smiled, her being the one to receive most of the longer sentences due to sheer happenstance. “Of course, young mistress. Do join the reunion; the master would be delighted to speak with you outside of small phrases.”
Violet nodded softly, scratching a new sentence down. [I want him to be proud when I do.]
Scarlet huffed a laugh. The young one seemed to have misinterpreted the master’s wish to surprise the others as a feeling of inadequacy, though there was perhaps a kernel of truth behind the assumption. “He speaks nothing but praise for you as it is. I implore you to spare mine ears of more.”
The Queen chittered into her wrist, Mama following suit as the two laughed. The Blade excused herself back to the hub, noticing Harrow had hidden away slightly behind the doors, Jax watching from a chair with amusement. Sahari shook her head when Scarlet raised a brow in her direction.
The wait wasn’t very long, the doors clicking open and revealing the pair. The mistress’ tail seemed glued to the waist of her Sheath, the male more concerned with removing his bag from his back than the furry belt he was donning. Harrow crouched, an impish grin forming as she pounced to knock the master over from behind.
A flicker of grey caught the female’s leg, altering her trajectory into one of a crash-course with the floor. The thump and subsequent groan drew Joseph’s gaze to the ground behind him.
“What the f-”
His confusion was cut short by Head Sahari closing the distance and picking him up in an embrace, a grunt from the male telling of the difficulty breathing. He patted her back for release, the female hesitantly humouring the request.
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“Oxygen,” the male coughed out, smirking at the female. “Oxygen is important. What happened to Harrow?”
The orange-furred female groaned again, though this time it seemed to be fairly melodramatic. The mistress turned to look, raising her brows in faux surprise. “Oh? Perhaps she had fallen ill? Shall we quarantine her?”
“I hate you,” Harrow protested, pushing herself to her knees before reaching a paw out for Joseph to assist her up. Using the leverage, she shot herself into the male’s chest, audibly sniffing the increasingly uncomfortable male before jabbing a claw in Jax’s direction. “Ha! I win!”
The black-furred male simply shook his head with an amused smile. “If you claim as such.”
Joseph took a breath before joining in the relaxed atmosphere. “What was the bet?”
“If you would bed Tel,” Harrow replied, dodging the flicked tail the subject of conversation felt the requirement to toss at her. “Jax thought you would wait for something else.”
The master tilted his head as his face flushed, closing one eye as if to brace himself for whatever the answer to his question would be. “And that ‘something else’ is?”
“A secret,” Jax interjected his mate’s opening muzzle smugly, a glance to the female to punctuate a point that Scarlet was not privy to. “Something Harrow should know.”
Joseph drew a breath, holding it before closing his eyes to exhale. “Whatever. Where’s Pan?”
The female in question opened the facilities door, brightening immensely the moment she laid eyes upon him. She approached, pausing once a few steps away to flick an ear and glance between her mate and the mistress. It was subtle, but Tel seemed to stiffen immensely with stilled breath.
Heartbeats passed before the Paw smiled again, a deep contentment washing over her form. She nodded and beckoned her mate lower for a kiss in greeting, her tail brushing over the mistress’ own for but a second, the action draining the built tension and allowing an expression of ease to replace the stress.
“Did all go well?”
Joseph coughed into his fist when Tel’s claw dragged across the small of his back teasingly, Scarlet being the only one with an angle to notice, though the Paw seemed to almost roll her eyes in amusement. “Yeah. We set the lock so that it’ll be a bitch to play with, and it’s able to be bound by sticking ironwood into a few spots. I had Tel make a quick diagram of the process and where to bind it. The surroundings look the same as it always did, so it’ll be a good spot. Still got power and the recycler is still good, so there shouldn't be any problems.”
Huntress Pan grabbed his paw gently. “Then we may possibly extend our ventures outwards without sending Jax or Sahari, yes?”
Joseph raised a brow, but bobbed his head to the side to agree. “I mean, yeah.” He gave a questioning glance to the two. “Anyone you could offload the longer-distance trips to?”
Jax shrugged, Sahari answering for the both of them. “There are several who are competent enough. I do not worry of them using the shuttle for other than what it was given to them for.”
Grinning, Joseph nodded and freed his claws to scratch between the ears of the white-furred female, the Paw closing her eyes and seeming to melt into his touch contentedly. “Then we’re all good there. Did I miss anything?”
“Nothing, really,” Harrow admitted, walking over to take a seat on her mate’s lap, the latter resting a paw on her stomach tenderly. “Violet went out to gather healroot earlier, but Scarlet kept her company.”
Joseph nodded in the Blade’s direction, the look of gratitude exceeding any words he may have chosen to voice. Turning his attention back to removing his bag, he walked over to place it on a table, digging through the contents and removing a familiar object, though it was strange in a way.
“A rock-worm?” Huntress Pan inquired, her ear flopping slightly when she tilted her head. Joseph laughed.
“I figured this little guy would be right at home in Ferra’s set-up.”
The mistress pressed herself into his back, her paws resting on his hips. “He spent quite a while searching for it.”
“It moved, okay? I wasn’t thinking about how long it’s been.”
Pan’s eyes bounced between the two. “Why this one?”
Joseph pointed to some markings on the creature, a smirk tugging at his lips. “This little guy was the first of these bastards I ever came across, and was what helped guide me and the Atmo to the pod. In a way, it brought me to you guys.” His voice fell quiet, but the warmth in it carried it to those attending. “I guess I felt thankful for it...”
Both Pan and Tel leaned into him, exchanging a glance after a moment and laughing slightly. Harrow extradited herself from Jax, wandering over to inspect the animal.
“’Joseph was here,’” she read aloud before sighing. “Joe, I’d say I was disappointed in you, but...”
“But you’d do the same thing?” he replied smugly. Harrow shunted her eyes closed with a paw.
“I was going to say that it would be hard to be more disappointed.”
The master raised his brows, a challenging smirk forming. “As disappointed as I was to see the mess you left behind?”
The orange-furred female stiffened before slowly walking away and avoiding eye contact. Joseph reached out and grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, off-balancing her until he crouched to pull her over his shoulder. With a jolt to settle her weight better, he started walking.
“Jax! Help! I’m being stolen!” she yelled between giggles, her expression falling when she noticed he was more than content to watch the events. A desperate glance to the two mates of the master had her arms dangle dejectedly when it was made clear that neither wished to interject. She pouted, her ears drooping. “Fine, but don’t get mad at me if he takes me against my will.”
Sahari crossed her arms, passively amused. “I fear your body belongs to him now. We will miss you, Harrow.”
“TRAITORS!”
The door to the facility wing closed behind the two, Scarlet allowing a chuckle at the nonsense. Jax looked to Tel, mirth coating his question. “And how was it?”
The mistress glanced at him disinterestedly. “Could you not ask his bond?”
He shook his head, tipping his jaw in the Paw’s direction, the Huntress taking a place to the side of the grey-furred female. “She refuses to answer us.”
“And I should?”
“We figured you would spend the time to enlighten us regardless of our wishes.”
Tel smirked, wrapping an arm around the Paw and guiding her towards the dormitories, her response called over her shoulder. “You would be better off bedding him yourself, Jax. Perhaps then you would understand how to please a female?”
Scarlet watched as the male shook his head in exasperation, rolling his eyes before bracing his paws against his knees and pushing himself to his feet. “I suppose I should go ensure my mate has not fallen to his lecture.”
“Careful you do not follow suit,” Sahari warned playfully, her posture much more relaxed than earlier.
Jax waved her off over his shoulder as the black-furred female drew a breath, smiling softly before exiting the hub and leaving Scarlet to wonder what she should be doing with everyone seemingly busy.
Lacking any pressing matters, she smirked as she recalled a particular blue-furred female who seemed unsettled whenever the Blade was around. She silently departed the den, recalling that the female would likely be tending to the new barracks.
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“Ah, you’ve returned,” Grand Hunter Trill called cheerfully without looking, his claws perusing documents and trade agreements. The Blade stiffened upon entering the office, glancing over her shoulder to the guard who seemed far less interested as he closed the door behind her. The Grand Hunter appeared to be rather relaxed, his form casually reclined in his chair, but even the friendliest of greetings carried a silent promise of death. There was an expectation placed upon the words.
“Greetings, Grand Hunter,” she spoke while bowing deeply, her tail laid to her spine lest he even suspect less than perfect subservience. It was not wise to disrespect the Blademaster. “I have returned from my task.”
Trill glanced at her, his eyes lingering expectantly before shifting back to his papers. “Yes, I can see that. What have you learned?”
She flinched when his ear flicked, the missing chunks giving him a battle-proven look that the murky pupil of his eye enforced. “The male is in possession of an outpost.”
He flicked his eyes up for a moment. “That would explain much, I suppose. That would make two that we know of.” He paused to adjust himself in his seat absently. “No matter. My gift?”
“We were unable to identify the Blades you had accompany them.”
The rustle of the documents as they were set on the table preceded the slight tap of his claws as he sat upright. His arms folded on the table, the dark-grey fur contrasting the cool steel of the desk. “Removed?”
“Unknown.”
Trill grunted, his brow furrowing slightly. The scars on his face contorted the contemplative expression. “My kit is many things,” he began, a quill produced from somewhere on his body that he twirled idly. “But arrogance to such a degree? No. She would not simply dispose of my endowment without sending a message of some kind.”
The chair creaked when he shifted his weight backwards, the usual mirth and veil of amicability he donned with clients replaced with a tired and worn male who had seen much of his pack fade into the grips of the Void. “What of a prospective sheath?”
The Blade fought to fight the flinch, her tail betraying her as the shiver of fear ran down her spine. “She had laid proper claim to the Human.”
“Human? Human... Human...” The Blademaster caught the quill between two claws as his eyes lit dimly with recognition. “Ah, the new one. I had forgotten the name of his species for a moment, my apologies. Regardless, she had attempted to lay her claim before and I had dismissed it.”
“She has not attempted, Grand Hunter. She has given her vow and he has accepted.”
He chuckled, raising a brow at the assertion. “That coward? The one who could not even claim the life of one seeking his? Claim mine when I offered him an opportunity?”
She hesitantly opened her muzzle to speak. “He is no such coward.”
She flinched openly, her eyes fixing themselves downward while expecting to lose the use of a limb for challenging him. The quill and the almost silent tap against his claws was gone, replaced by a curious tone that sought little more than information. “Explain.”
The female glanced away from the floor to see the Grand Hunter exceedingly interested, the cold regard of death abating, yet ever present. “His form may not be of great peril, but his influence is. We were brought to unconsciousness before we could even be aware of an approach. We have gleaned an air of solidarity around his settlement. When the servants were shown to be in dire straits, the pack moved in unity to aid them with minimal commands. Even the High Hunter abandoned his orders to assist. The male draws subjects and sows loyalty.”
Trill bore holes through the Blade with his unwavering gaze. “And the fault of yourself and Bratik is proof of his power? Will kind words mend a broken Blade?”
She swallowed, her next statement but a fleeting thought that seemed to reoccur within the recesses of her mind. “We think he may reforge them. Create more through means unknown. There were many of his pack that seemed far more tempered than we were led to suspect, and a few existed only as thoughts or whim at his behest.”
A chilled silence permeated the room. Though it was sparse in furnishings, and the usual guards within were absent due to the sensitive nature of the meeting, it still felt as if the entirety of the confines in which she stood were want to crush her form. Trill exhaled slowly, relaxing his posture once again.
“Perhaps my kit has seen fit to lead her kind and embrace her title?”
“No, Grand Hunter.” The Blade shook her head, taking a waved paw as permission to speak freely. “She is beholden to his command. He is not simply an escape from your agreements, he is truly her Sheath.”
“I see,” he replied dryly, his eyes showing the churning thoughts behind them. “I will move on this information, I suppose. Did you impart my warning in the event?”
The Blade bowed. “Of course, Grand Hunter. The High Hunter and those accompanying him are under the impression we were of unsound mind and loose muzzle.”
Trill nodded languidly, his enthusiasm waning. “Good, good. There exists little I could do otherwise. Word should spread soon enough.” He glanced at his papers, a claw dragging over a line of text she was unable to read from this angle. “I suppose I should call in a favour from Toril.”
“He has been hunted by High Hunter Hasen. Though we remained hidden from the conflict, Bratik has offered asylum to Grand Hunter Toril at the request of Tersa.”
The Blademaster rubbed the tiredness from his face with a paw. “Harbouring a subject of internal conflict? How splendid,” he drolled sarcastically, a mild annoyance working into his voice. “We send him to ascertain the validity of the information presented, and he both ignores his orders and aids outside of the treaty.”
He dropped his arm onto the table, his expression slipping between thoughtful and defeated. “Strip him of his rank. We have no need for his kind if he is to rot our structure.”
“You wish him removed?”
Trill chuckled before wearing a wry smile. “If I were to be accused of knowing about his rule-breaking, then I would be implicated in assenting to it without action. Exile him and any who claim him innocent. As fond as I am of Toril, I will not lay the heads of mine before the whims of others to humour his existence.” The Grand Hunter tapped a claw to punctuate his words. “Contracts, dear Blade, are to be adhered to. Failure to do such makes us no better than the Union and their ilk. I have no intention of abandoning my promise because one who knows not the ramifications of his actions chose to bend the rules.”
The male spun his chair slowly, his gaze falling everywhere but nowhere. “Pass along the orders to Tersa. Bratik will be exiled from my protections, since removing him would be in poor taste, and her Sheath must seek shelter elsewhere. If he does not maintain his power, he will be excluded from the protections of the treaty as well. A Grand Hunter of no pack is no Grand Hunter.”
“Yes, Grand Hunter.”
The dark-grey-furred male drew breath, exhaling it in a short burst as he tried to liven up his visage. “Will that be all?”
“One last item of interest, Grand Hunter,” the Blade responded, producing a purloined tablet with curious runes. Trill accepted the offered item, raising a brow as he examined it.
“This is?”
“A summons for the insects, if I were to offer a guess. The Human was in control of four of them, as far as we could verify. The purported origin of these was vague, but Bratik was not in possession of them until after his initial contact with the male.”
The Grand Hunter hummed, turning the tablet over a few times. “Two scripts, it seems. Where have I seen one of these?” He tapped the tablet on his claws before pulling a drawer open and ruffling through some documents, producing a recent copy of the treaty. Comparing the two, his lips quirked in interest. “It seems our favourite mystery is looking for them, though I suspect this is not written by his paw. Interesting. Do any of our packs find themselves housing them or are aware of their location? I recall some mentioning it.”
The Blade shook her head. “I fear that those who might would not be keen on informing us.”
Trill nodded, placing the tablet upon his desk before folding his paws. “See that we find out. I am rather curious what will happen when they see this.”
The female bowed, taking his slip into ruminations as a dismissal. Just as she reached for the door, her curiosity stayed her paw. “I was of the impression you disapproved of the male. Why would we assist him?”
Trill glanced at her before returning to his idle inspection of the strange languages. His response lacked any judgment or hostility, it instead lacquered with a sense of longing that faded as quick as it appeared. “I have my reasons.” He shifted in his chair, a belated thought crossing his expression. “Do inform Tersa I have a separate task for her.”
“What might that be, Grand Hunter?”
The Blademaster grinned, his focus far beyond the confines of the room.
“It’s rather simple, I assure you.”