Chapter 77: Guests
Joseph raised a brow at the unfamiliar words, Pan not translating for him as her face took a conflicted turn. He lowered his hand from the desk to stroke her tail in hopes to get her attention, his questioning gaze prompting her to speak when she looked at him.
“They seem to have been sent with Bratik’s blessing.”
He fully allowed his surprise to overtake him for a moment. Knowing that Bratik had helped people in need sat well with him, the guy seemed the type to do it, but hearing that these two were sent directly by him with whatever phrase Pan had green-lit was interesting.
Though he was aware of the looks from those attending, he leaned back in his chair to think it out, reaching for his tea. The cup revealed itself to be empty, leading to him asking Scarlet to grab him another. She obliged, leaving the room and having Faye replace her for the time being, the dark gold-furred female taking a position near the door.
He needed to clarify some things, and as easy as it would be to tell the two to fuck off, he didn’t want to just turn down people a friend had sent to his door.
“For starters, will whoever wants you dead come here looking for you?”
Toril seemed to consider it before speaking. “Unlikely. I would say your existence would only just be reaching the closest Grand Hunters within a few suns. Since your territory overlaps with Mi’low’s, I doubt many would think for me to flee here.”
Joseph nodded, but decided not to mention that the red-furred female was only a few buildings away. Seeing as how his existence was going to be veiled for a bit longer, it gave him some confidence that he would be able to sort more shit out before any wandering informants started showing up, too. “You two have a problem?”
The white-furred male chortled. “She has become rather irritated with my traders in the past.”
“Fair enough,” he sighed out. Mi’low and him still weren’t on the best terms themselves, but he doubted something petty like this would be much of an issue. Even if it was, he’d deal with it when it came up. “What were you expecting to do here? I’m not too keen on free-loaders.”
“I am a chemist,” Toril responded, a slight excitement working into his voice. “If I had the equipment, I could begin to explore the odd nature of this planet!” The enthusiasm of the male tempered a bit. “Though, I unfortunately have been of little success acquiring much, if any.”
“Hard to set up a lab when you’re nomadic,” Joseph surmised, his expression turning to a lighter one when Scarlet returned with a fresh mug of peppermint tea. He accepted it gratefully, taking a longer drink to organize his thoughts, a long inhale of the fumes filling his lungs with a familiar odour. Though the tea smelled more like Tel, the scent he had initially gotten from Tersa was damp and dirty, in a way. Like someone had let a tea bag go stale. Even the girls didn’t have quite the same tinge, but he was able to sort out who was in the room because of it.
His shoulders relaxed a bit more than he was expecting them to when the liquid ran down his throat. He found himself looking to his grey-furred girlfriend and was suddenly rather thankful for her decision to come out when he had gotten annoyed with the mind-games. It was immensely comforting to have the back-up, and she knew it, based on the sly smile that grew when she noticed him looking over the rim of his cup. It gave him the mental room to think properly.
A lab wouldn’t be too out of sorts, and there were a mountain of applications for someone of Toril’s field in the settlement. Sure, the guy was a bit odd, but Joseph was warned the male was eccentric. The issue was the Blade boring holes through the mask the Human wore with her stare.
“What about you?” he asked, placing the drink down with a clack. “Besides acting like you own the place. And assassination, of course.”
Tersa flinched, a somewhat calculating look passing her face. “I am a Blade.”
He waited for more, but sighed when it seemed like that was going to be her entire explanation. “Is that it?” He gestured to Tel, the female winking with a smirk in his direction. “She’s the main cook around here. Damn good, too. Even holds a small class for those who are interested.” He felt the smile pull up his mask, a quick tug to fix the placement being needed. “I don’t care what it is, I just need to know what you can offer.”
“She is my assistant,” Toril offered when Tersa shrank in her chair. “Though she is still new, she shows great promise.”
Joseph lazily stared at the male. The guy was grasping at straws, that much was obvious, but it was nice to know that there was some genuine shift in his emotions when it came to the female. In actuality, he was already aware that Blades typically didn’t do much outside of their work, Tel being an exception. It was part of the reason he had gotten the girls to help out with the more manually intensive tasks. He wasn’t looking for some spectacular skill set—though he wouldn’t turn that away—he was looking for a willingness to learn.
He shifted his eyes back to the pair, thankful that the mask hid his uncertainty. “So, you guys want me to take you in? What if I say no?”
Toril retained his smile, though disappointment flickered in his eyes. “Then we would leave to search for one who would have us, though it would be more likely to speculate that we would meet our end.” The white-furred male looked to the cup before him, taking a drink despite his mate’s disapproving glare. “If nothing else, I would implore you to shelter Tersa. Although she would ensure that she drew her last before myself, I would rather not spend what little time I had left mourning the loss.”
The honest statement seemed to stun the visiting Blade, the female’s face slackening as she blinked to process what was said. Remorse fell over her expression as she stood from her seat suddenly, a deep bow given towards Joseph as her resolve hardened her voice.
“Regardless of the requirements you have for us, please help. Hasen has declared his intent to take my Sheath’s life and there are limits to what I might protect him from.” She paused for a moment, hesitation evident. “I will do anything.”
Tel glanced at him curiously, a paw lightly tapping on her daggers. He let the request sit in the air to see if Tersa would budge in any direction, his eyes widening as tears fell instead of aggression like he had suspected.
“None are aware that we have arrived here, we moved quietly without being followed or known. I fear we will not be able to rely on the other’s ignorance should we seek asylum elsewhere.” She drew a slightly shuddering breath as she maintained the bowed posture, her eyes fixed downwards. “Bratik told us of your kindness and assured us that we would be welcomed... I beg of you...”
He chewed his cheek for a long moment, a suspicion lingering in the back of his head. Something didn’t quite sit right with her botched posturing. Considering that the only times he felt like she was acting honestly was when it came to Toril, he suspected there was something else in her head that guided her actions. Something that was stressing her out quite a bit.
It wasn’t like when Bratik tried to gain some control of the room in his nervousness. This wasn’t something that was done to heighten her own self importance, but it seemed like her first plan of action was to draw focus on how Joseph was the utmost authority in the room. He had an idea as to why that might matter...
He directed his curiosity towards the grey-furred female while holding up a finger to let Pan know not to translate it. “Tel, Blades are supposed to be monogamous, right?”
The female glanced at the Paw. “To adhere to our tenets, yes. Only one may bear their mark.”
“What if they were told to seduce someone?”
She raised a brow. “Then they would.”
“Would you?” he asked passively, never having really thought about it. She made a face, but nodded regardless. Okay, so it wouldn’t be something they were happy about, but it would still be done. He filled his lungs as much as he could, shooting the air out through his teeth. Stressful factor number one.
Gesturing to the two, and a nod to confirm with Pan that he wanted to speak with them again, he fixed himself in his chair. “What do you know about this place?”
Tersa looked up from the floor, a strained edge to her eyes. “We were told the Grand Hunter had assisted otherwise worthless servants and was looking for the insects.”
“We were given the phrase as well, but I’m afraid we know little more now than we knew previously,” Toril continued, his smile no longer reaching his eyes.
Joseph nodded, a cursory look at Tel and Scarlet confirming that both were still on a hair-trigger. That was a strong case for ‘stressful factor number two’. He pulled his mask off, flicking down the hood of his coat as he set the skull on the desk next to his tea. Though Tersa seemed to take a more defensive posture, Toril’s expression dropped to one of wonder.
“A new species!” He barked joyfully, the sudden burst in enthusiasm stunning the Human. “What knowledge are you in possession of? What fields did you study? Were the strange armaments Bratik held your doing? How long have you been here? Are there more? Is this your-”
Tersa, having collected herself enough to notice her mate going off on another barrage, pulled his ear to seat him back in the chair that had started tipping forward. She seemed hesitant to continue speaking after her begging and the subsequent reveal, but she still bowed her head in apology for the male’s actions. The genuine chastisement in the furrow of her brow struck Joseph as one he had seen on Harrow’s face more than once when Jax pushed something slightly too far, and even had that same hint of ‘I love you, but you’re a pain in my ass.’
“That,” Joseph dragged out the word, confusion dominating his expression as gears continued to turn in his head, “was not what I was expecting.”
Toril tried to start up with more questions, but Tersa placed a paw over his mouth before he could get a word out. “You will cease your queries, or I will stitch your muzzle shut.”
The white-furred male managed a muffled chuckle, rolling his paw to signal his agreement to cooperate. The Blade looked back to Joseph, drawing a breath that took a few tries to turn into words as her bravado and remorse settled into a defeated tone. “We will leave. Our apologies for our behaviour.”
Something clicked in his mind. She was told to check on the Blades. As absent as it sounded when Toril mentioned it, it felt like the male was testing him by giving him a hint. A crumb, just to see if the Grand Hunter was smart enough to look for where it originated.
Time to see if this was the cookie it came from.
“I never said I wouldn’t take you in,” Joseph countered while he folded his hands back on the table. “But I think we need to make some things clear.”
She blinked, her muzzle opening only to fall shut again as she nodded.
“What orders did you get from Trill?”
He waited for her to answer, rubbing his temple when she tensed up in silence.
“Figure out what happened to the Blades, and, assuming my gut is right, something along the lines of ‘seduce the Grand Hunter.’” He smirked when her eyes widened. “Seems like most people in charge like to be dicks about it. That’s why you tried to assert that I needed to give permission for the others to speak. Stroke my ego and whatnot. When that failed, you went for a different angle to impress that you would be a fine ‘addition’ to my collection by pointing out that you were Toril’s mate, another Grand Hunter. Tel wasn’t in your information, so that backfired a bit, didn’t it.”
He shifted back in his chair, noticing Toril’s otherwise fixed smile had slipped to a dangerously observant expression. The Human had found the cookie, and the male seemed rather curious what he was going to do about it. Joseph returned the stare as he continued.
“Regardless of what you expected to gain from sleeping with me, the only thing I actually got from this is that both of you are stressed the fuck out and fresh out of options. What’s to stop me from killing you both or enslaving you?”
“You wouldn’t,” Toril stated, his voice devoid of warmth as he stood from his chair slowly. There was a confidence in his eyes, the room no longer some passing environment to the chemist. This was a proper meeting between two people in charge, and it was only now that Toril felt it needed to be taken seriously. Joseph waved Tel down when she reached for her dagger.
“Bold claim.”
“But yet a true one.”
The Grand Hunter watched impassively as Toril closed in to place his paws on the desk and leaned forward to match their heights, Pan adjusting her claws so that the hidden dagger in her bracer would be but a twitch from deployment.
“The words that were spoken of you were those of a boon to our people, Grand Hunter. You seek to heal the wounds this world has given us. I am invaluable in such pursuits, yet I hold knowledge that many seek to raze the territory of others with little thought of the future for those affected.”
Toril righted himself to remove his coat, the garment crumpling to the floor to reveal a scar-laden body, his tail being little more than a stub drawing some raised eyebrows of surprise from everyone besides Joseph, the Human more interested in glimpsing the man behind the obsession. The white-furred male raised his arms outward, his voice increasing in volume as it gained a vicious edge.
“It is why we were never to establish our own, Grand Hunter. What good is knowledge if one is not able to suffer the effects upon their enemies? Many have sought my expertise to bolster their arms and draw blood on the very soil they coveted.” The male let his arms drop, the words defeated and sorrowful. “I gathered those who wished no more of this war, Grand Hunter. Those who were displaced by the attacks of the Union and yearned for peace. We searched for more in possession of our mind, only to be betrayed by one whom I thought kin.”
Toril cycled a short breath, his disconnected smile returning, sorrow tinting his eyes. “If I am incorrect in my hypothesis that you would not beg wanton bloodshed, then I would wish you to allow Tersa to stay while I find a more pleasant place to pass. You are correct. We had no other option than to trust in the words of the priest’s mate when he claimed this sanctuary. I would like to assume him correct.”
Joseph stared at the male, his regard flicking to Tersa to see the self-hatred in her expression as she tried not to look at wounds that only looked fresher and fresher, a dampness renewed in her eyes. “So you think that I wouldn’t weaponize your specialty?”
“I believe you would not seek reason to use that which you create.”
The Human nodded. “Any medical knowledge?”
“None that would be of assistance at the moment, but I wish to experiment so that I may gain such.”
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He looked over to Tersa. “I’m not fucking you, and I’d recommend getting the idea out of your head, too. Toss it with the attitude you expected to impress me.”
She seemed surprised to be addressed, a cautious glance being given to Tel. “I have no knowledge of such orders, but I am to follow what my Blademaster wishes of me.”
Joseph blinked slowly at the obvious nervousness in front of her boss’ daughter, a glance given to Scarlet before his eyes returned to the female. The statement felt too safe to be genuine dismissal, but the phrasing sold that she was trying to confirm his suspicions without openly agreeing. He lifted himself in the chair, adjusting his coat as he got comfortable against the backrest.
“So, it seems that ‘Blademaster’ is another title I gained at some point without me knowing, and you’re asking to join my pack. Sorry, but it sounds to me that you’re switching bosses.” Her brow furrowed as she considered it. “Plus, fuck Trill. Asshole needs to learn that sticking his fingers where they don’t belong might end up with difficulty using them to count.”
“Yet you are the heiress’ mate?” she questioned with a glance between Tel and Pan. He shrugged.
“No rules broken, and none of your business if there was. Hardly a secret that Trill and I don't quite see eye-to-eye. You want me to look past your bullshit, you’ll look past mine.”
“There are rules-”
“Accepted,” Toril interrupted Tersa firmly, leaving no room for the female to continue. “But before we commit ourselves, I must ask. With my knowledge within your grasp, what is the first thing you would have me create?”
Joseph raised his brow, reaching to sip at his drink. “I’ll be honest, I’m one of the more stupid people here. People just ask what needs to be done, and I sort out what others suggest so that things get started. So, as far as chemistry? No clue. Maybe work on some medicines, dyes, and whatever else people need.”
“You wish not for weapons?” the male asked cautiously. Joseph shrugged.
“I have ideas for those, but I thought you wanted to be free of fighting.”
“We must all face that which we despise the most, but you would put my wish before your pack?”
He snorted, almost ejecting tea out of his nose. He coughed as he set the cup down. “No, but I know trying to force you to do something like that won’t play out well. I could have you under lock and key while you work, but the last thing I need is you figuring out something particularly nasty and using it on us out of spite.”
Toril picked up his coat from the floor, tossing it on while his eyes burned with curiosity. “Who is to say I would not anyway?”
Joseph met the gaze with his own, a small smile growing as he nodded to himself. “You remind me of my brother. All he has in his head is what he’s interested in, but he’ll fight tooth and nail for what’s important to him.” He glanced at Tersa until the male spoke, a testing tone to his voice.
“And this makes you confident I would not turn my discoveries against you?”
The Grand Hunter leaned back in his chair, his expression softened. “I hope that if you decide to make more dangerous things, it will be to protect this place. I’m not asking you to be an arms dealer, Toril, just to help while you’re here. Plenty of uses for a chemist that don’t end up with more pyres and mourning.”
The white-furred male’s smile reached his eyes until they closed. “Tersa, could you eliminate him right now if you tried?”
The female seemed stunned by the question before answering firmly. “Yes, my Sheath.”
“Would you survive?” he continued, shaking his head when the Blade took too long to answer. Joseph raised a brow, not ignorant to the position Pan took as she translated for him. Behind Tersa, Scarlet had silently walked closer and had a knife hidden in her paw, the former not doing so much as turning an ear to notice.
“Not happy with my offer?”
“Merely wishing to impart upon her the wisdom in heeding your demands.” He looked at Tel. “Would she succeed if ordered to do so?”
The grey-furred female seemed annoyed at the line of questioning, but huffed in amusement regardless. “She would be within the Void before she left the chair.”
“I take it the reasoning would be that there are several Blades we are unaware of?”
“You would be correct.”
Toril turned his eyes back to Joseph. “What of your opinion?”
“I think both of you need a fucking nap,” the Human admitted, grabbing for his tea again.
The chemist stared before snorting, the chuckling evolving into laughter until he could calm himself down enough to wipe the tear from his eye. “I believe you are correct, Grand Hunter.”
“Joseph,” he corrected lazily. “Save the titles and other bullshit for when it’s important.”
“You will accept those who just asked for the ease of your demise?”
He shrugged. “Really all you’ve done so far is tell me that you’re not too excited to help with war-crimes and get Tersa to fuck off with her act when it wasn’t going well. You’re weird, but if you haven’t noticed, that’s kinda our whole thing here.”
Toril tensed slightly. “What of Tersa?”
Joseph considered it, glancing slowly in her direction. “How many fighters are in this room? How many weapons?”
The Blade seemed taken aback to be addressed so suddenly with the topic, an eye shifting to receive a nod from her mate. She looked around, the look on her face suggesting she was confirming some things now that she had the time. Her regard skipped over Scarlet, the female having returned her weapon to its hiding place.
“Not including myself, two. I believe there are six daggers, though I suspect there are quills as well.”
“Pan and Tel?” She nodded. Joseph looked back to Toril. “I’m with Tel on this one, and I’ll say it again. She’s fucked if she thinks she has any chance against us. I’ll let you figure it out on your own, but right now; you’re the only one not armed with a weapon. In fact, Klohe probably has a bead drawn on your head.”
He gestured to the open window where he had asked one of the girls to tuck away with a crossbow. Given that Tersa didn’t even think to connect Bratik’s new weaponry with the possibility that Joseph had far more, it wasn’t much of a stretch to say she’d be surprised if a bolt went through her chest if she tried anything.
Toril seemed to contemplate the assertion, his naturally present smile persisting. “A male of deception?”
“Nope,” he replied tersely. “Just making sure my family is safe. Sometimes that means hoping you don’t have to use what you prepared.”
The male took a breath, closing his eyes and bowing his head. “It is a relief to know you are as described.”
“In over his head?” Joseph prodded, already tired of this meeting. He just wanted to go lay down. Maybe see if he could convince someone to learn massaging. Toril shook his head, though did allow a chuckle.
“Strange.”
He shrugged, not disagreeing with the statement. “So what will it be? You can stay here and help me make knick-knacks for the pack, Tersa helping, or you can walk back out the gate and find somewhere else, if not just a nice grove to die in.”
“I am surprised you would allow a Blade not of your own within your walls.”
“Plan on doing anything stupid, Tersa?” He directed the question with a loose hand. The female seemed conflicted. “Trill has no influence here, and your options are between making your mate happy or bleeding out wishing you did. There is no middle ground. Reign yourself in and live here, or die knowing that Toril will follow suit.” He softened his building annoyance. “Stay or go, Tersa, either works. Just know that my Blades aren’t tools, and I have no intention of giving you tasteless orders, if any.”
“You would accept us?”
He nodded, his gaze hardening when she produced a knife, but held his hand up to ease the pack when she walked over to hand him the weapon grip-first. She stood next to her mate and bowed, her neck tilted for easier access to her throat.
“As long as my Sheath wishes it so, I shall follow your will, Blademaster.”
Joseph looked between the two, the knife feeling heavy in his hand. “One chance, Tersa.”
Toril joined his mate when both knelt before the desk, a fist to the floor.
“As you wish, Grand Hunter.”
He laid the knife on the table, his fingers interlacing. “But, before that, I want you to be sure.”
The chemist looked up first. “What is there to be sure of?”
“If you even want to,” Joseph explained. “For the foreseeable future, until you genuinely want to join, I’ll house you as a sort of guest.”
Tersa raised her head, a concerned glance at her mate given. “I take it you would wish us separated from your secrets.”
The Human barked a laugh. “Look, I need you two for far too much to try to play ‘keep-away.’ No, you’ll be under supervision and given the freedom to do as you like, as long as you’re contributing. You can use the guest room here for now.”
“What of your orders?” Toril asked as he stood again, the cautious tint to his eye had returned, but it no longer outweighed the smile.
“Not my thing,” Joseph dismissed with a shrug. “I’ll ask favours or suggest what you should be doing based on what we need, but it’s your specialty, not mine. Past your work?” He grabbed for his tea again, swirling the last of it around in the bottom before finishing it. “Do whatever you want. Long as you don’t cause trouble, we won’t give you any.”
The white-furred male raised a brow when Joseph extended his hand.
“It’s a hand-shake. Used in greetings or to settle agreements between two people of similar... station, I guess you’d say. You don’t belong to me, but you follow my rules. If you’re okay with that, then this is what we’ll do.” Toril took the hand, the Human offering it a few short pumps. “Welcome to the settlement, Toril. Tersa. Don’t fuck it up.”
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
The slight rustle of the grass and leaves filled most of the ambient sound, the only other thing worth focusing on being his mate’s breathing, the soft rise and fall of Sorren’s chest moving lightly as Bratik’s paw rubbed his stomach idly. Moonlight was all he had to view the world through—a fire would be too bright and possibly give away their position.
“They’re still following us.”
Bratik felt the blood drain from his face at the reminder, his eyes glancing to one of the few members of his pack who had stood by his actions, the male wearing a grim expression. Once word reached them that the ex-High Hunter was being exiled for his interference with Grand Hunter Toril, most of his members were quick to reorganize under other leaders. He didn’t blame them, they knew not of what fate may await them if they chose to follow, but it meant that those who still wished to stay with him were few in number.
It would have been a fairly mundane journey to hopefully reach Grand Hunter Joseph’s settlement and ask if he would take them in, but something became an issue shortly after they had left the settlement.
A group was tailing them.
Where they were a group of nine, the others were at maybe fifteen in number, though even that estimate seemed to be a mere illusion as counts varied wildly. They never approached quickly, always just beyond what they could see without long observation, but they still gained ground with each break and rest. Fearing that they may be following them so as to locate Bratik’s goal, they had begun veering off slightly so that they might circle back around, if not just try their luck with Sunundra if the group continued.
As much as he wished it to be a simple trading caravan that happened to be going the same way, they never approached more than a little bit at a time. Never allowing more than a few to be seen. Never leaving them alone, no matter how wildly they deviated from their course.
A passing thought wished to know what became of those he saved, Toril and Tersa. He had sent them ahead with directions and a phrase Huntress Pan had given him, the two making haste to leave when it was made clear that no further assistance was to be given to them. Perhaps it was a kindness to an old friend that allowed the Blade to remain with her Sheath, or perhaps it was the whispered orders that seemed to make the camouflaged female so irritated. Either way, Bratik drew a breath as his eyes stared into the silhouettes of trees and brush to see the figures that had been so keen on keeping distance slowly approach with weapons drawn.
“Sorren,” the ash-furred male shook his mate awake, stilling the mumbled vocalizations with a paw. Once the slumbering male had blinked away the vestiges of sleep, their eyes met, Sorren’s narrowing upon noticing the grave edge in his.
“Still?”
Bratik nodded. “It has been many suns. I fear that their target is no longer merely the Guardian, but us.”
“Perhaps both,” Sorren postulated, a dissatisfaction to his tone as he forced himself upright. “How far away are we?”
“From the Guardian, not far, though the forest seems to be guiding us.”
The priest allowed a low chuckle. “The Hunt Mother wishes us to follow.”
It took a moment for him to answer, a genuine desire to believe in his mate’s words faltering his resolve to dispute. “...I do not wish to bring danger upon him.”
“Nor should you,” Sorren countered lightly, his cadence playful, yet worried. “To do as much would be to scoff at what she has given us.”
Bratik looked back to the trees, the outlines of their pursuers having disappeared, but not their presence. “They will make their move soon.”
The members of the pack stiffened, none wishing to meet their end so close to their goal, yet knowing that they would only bring harm upon those they seek the shelter of if they were to proceed in full. Sorren smiled at them, the kind expression abating the worst of their number’s trepidation. “Then we should continue. As much as I would wish to meet the male who has gained my mate’s interest, it would be low for me to force our plights.”
The ex-High Hunter nodded with his pack. “Their pace increases.”
“Then perhaps we should wish the best of Sunundra.”
“Perhaps,” Bratik agreed quietly, an idle claw playing with the tablets he had received from the Human. He had done as asked, distributing them to those who had admitted to having seen the insects or spoke of rumours regarding them, but none would speak of outright having them in their packs. Though his settlement was not a hub of trade like High Hunter Loptr’s, it had still seen its fair share of visitors from those beyond Grand Hunter Trill’s influence, allowing him to pass along several of the messages.
A small smile crept across his muzzle as he recalled the Human’s wish for his kit to meet more of their kind.
“Let us continue. Those who did not rest will get the opportunity to do so when we next slow our pace,” the ash-furred male announced quietly, prompting the small improvised pack to gather their items and take to the forest again on their journey. Sorren shivered despite the warmer air, cuddling into Bratik for the extra warmth that he was happy to give, if a bit distracted at the concerned looks his pack was giving to the trees behind him.
The moon was still fairly early, the shadows cast by the dim light obscuring much of their way forward, but he couldn’t help but feel ensured by the ever-observant glow it radiated onto the landscape. Their path was the one of protectors, their weapons gifted by the Guardian, and their belief solely to the Great Hunt. Though they may not serve directly, they would still be able to soothe the Hunt Mother’s followers no matter whom they fall under. Bratik adjusted his armour, the soft wood inside fitting comfortably while the outer wood felt like unyielding iron.
“High Hun... Bratik,” the pack member corrected ruefully, their claw pointing behind them. “There are more.”
With a turn of his head, he confirmed that not only had more of their pursuers become apparent, they had gotten closer, the glint of their weapons becoming more obvious, as well as the shape of something else. A curved stick.
The stick bent in the paws of the one using it, Bratik’s eyes widening for the fraction of a second it took for him to place the item. The stick snapped to its resting position, Sorren pulled into his embrace as the ash-furred male put himself in the path of the trajectory.
The pain was almost blinding.
“They have bows!”
With the leader’s bellowed announcement, the pack took cover, those with their own ranged weapons bringing them to bear. Ammunition would be the limiting factor for both sides to continue any prolonged stalemate, but the opposing group had the number advantage. It would only be a matter of time before they were flanked and picked off by the melee that would ensue.
His feet felt numb, but he dragged his mate behind a larger tree and pulled the gift from his shoulder, a paw tapping his quiver to confirm his count. Eight, soon to be seven.
“Bratik, your leg...” Sorren’s voice sounded horrified and tender, drawing the male’s eyes downward to see the arrow protruding from his thigh. There was no gushing blood, but he could already tell that it would make running impossible. A hobbled walk was the best he could hope to maintain for any reasonable time, and even that was a lot to ask. A decision was made.
“Sorren,” Bratik started, placing both paws firmly on his mate’s shoulders to focus his attention. “Go to the Guardian. Use the phrase, and tell him I have begun distributing his summons.” His resolve faltered before being renewed with a shaky breath. “Apologize for me, for I could not remain long enough to pass along the rest.”
He felt that his smile was weak, his eyes bleary from resignation to his fate. The only thing keeping him lucid at the moment was the drive to see his own safe, and the desire to send his mate somewhere safe.
“Who wishes to escort my mate to the Guardian?” He called aloud, though he kept his voice low enough so that those attacking wouldn’t hear him. Two raised their paws from their cover, the rest either trying to acquire a target for their bows or watching the flank with swords. “Good. Head north-east. When you see a large silver wall, you will have found him.”
Sorren shook himself out of his stupor, a desperate argument forming on his muzzle that died when Bratik shook his head.
“Go. Our people need you more than me. I can think of no better way to ensure your safety than him. We will bide our time as best we can.”
“We can flee,” the priest pleaded, his claws digging into Bratik’s skin. The male smiled, placing a soft kiss on his mate’s head.
“And you will. Offer peace to those who seek it, Sorren, much as you did for me.”
“Bratik, no, wait-”
The ex-High Hunter smiled warmly, the burning of tears forming in his eyes as his mate was escorted away by the two who looked regretful to be leaving. Sorren thrashed for a few moments until he eventually surrendered to the pull of the two. Just before they disappeared into the woods, a gesture was given.
Two claws to the heart turned, then tossed to the side. “My heart will never know another.”
Bratik wiped away the tears as he reciprocated the motions to the empty air, the clash of an arrow against the tree he was sheltering behind snapping him from his moment. He pushed himself against the wood, a paw grasping for his quiver. He nodded to the other archers, each popping from their cover and drawing their bows.
The first volley flew true, but their fear intensified.
There were more than fifteen.