Chapter 83: Order of the Grand Hunter
Harrow adjusted the hood of her vest, the cutouts for her ears anchoring it to her head as she fetched a fresh ironwood knife from one of her many pockets. She passed it to Joe below her, his body resting on the ground under her widened stance, his elbows awkwardly supporting him. The Grand Hunter grunted his appreciation from his prone form, reaching with the implement and scratching out some of the excess material that they had forgotten to account for when asking the Atmo to do the prototype.
She was tempted to sit on his back, if only to rest her own from the uncomfortable position. She had been holding up their latest project for a while now. The dulled edge of the wooden knives being unsuitable for prolonged use and delaying the process, but they didn’t want to risk giving Heralt more work at the moment by bending or breaking their limited metal—not when he was busy speeding along the manual lathe, anyway.
As funny as the concept was, Joe had the idea to hook something of a treadmill up to one, whatever security member needing cardio training powering it for the workshop while also not needing to be so far away from possible events during their exercise. The motion would be transferred out via drive shafts and gears, turning the exercise into 'power' for useful rotational machines. Heralt was also a bit of a hard-ass when it came to his work, so whoever was on ‘mill duty’ would be about ready to metaphorically keel over and die by the time the male was satisfied.
It was something they wouldn’t have actually humoured if it wasn’t for the new temporary workers—the group picking up the slack in some much needed areas. Though Harrow could go help the smith, her job was mostly prototyping and getting new ideas into working order so that others could manufacture it. It was usually with Joseph’s help, whenever he wasn’t busy making sure that everything was going well, or correcting Jax’s more formal language lessons with her own casual speech.
The Human could speak Lilhun passably now at least, but still preferred to use his own tongue most of the time. Something to do with wanting an edge in what conversations were happening. And Tel. Something about Tel.
The Blade’s name passing through her thoughts made her back hurt even more.
The grey-furred female had taken to teaching Harrow a lot of things, though none of it was the flashy or lethal information that the Head of Technology had been looking for when she originally sought lessons. It was a lot of learning how to walk silently and slip in and out of populated areas without drawing attention to herself. She wanted to think she was doing a good job, but witnessing how effortlessly the Wraiths managed it had her pouting and complaining to Jax on more than one occasion. The ‘girls’ just seemed to disappear—even if you were watching them go.
“….Row. Harrow?”
She blinked at the strained voice, looking down at the heavy frame she had inadvertently rested on Joseph’s stomach, the male having rolled over to get a better angle at something. She gasped, tilting it more to alleviate the pressure and feeling the muscles in her back complain.
“Sorry,” she murmured apologetically, her ears flicking in embarrassment for losing herself in thought enough to become a hindrance. Joe extended an arm to raise a thumb, a weak cough robbing his ability to speak as his other paw rubbed at his chest, a slight wheeze escaping him while he caught his breath.
“All good. Need to get the weight down on this thing anyway,” he dismissed after a moment, his cursory checks of his work ending with a satisfied nod. He motioned for Harrow to lift it up enough for him to escape, the female doing as requested and the Human slipping out towards her with a few stiff wiggles.
Free, the male let himself go limp on the ground, his heaving chest sending a pang of guilt through her as she realized that he likely spent more than two attempts trying to get her attention.
“You okay?”
An unconcerned wave of his claws was given in response, the heel of his paw firmly anchored to his stomach. “You can…. Phew. You can let it down.”
She obliged, gingerly setting the project back to its resting state above his head. A jolt as it rolled away from her slightly causing her to lose her balance. Joseph shot an arm out, pulling her back so that she didn’t land into it face first. Her haunches landed on his hips heavily as a result, a fresh grunt of discomfort given for the effort.
Her cheeks instantly burned, a scramble to her feet being covered by an extended paw to help the Grand Hunter to his own. She winced at the weight of hauling him up, the Human much denser than a Lilhun of a similar build. Only Jax was so heavy, and he had quite some height on Joseph when standing fully erect.
Perceptive—or perhaps sympathetic to what she had spent the last hour doing—Joseph reached out and idly moulded her lower back with his claws, the dull tips of his digits sinking into her sore muscles in a way that made her purr with deep satisfaction, melting into his ministrations more than she would openly admit.
“Feel good?” he asked with an amused interest, stopping after a moment to crack his knuckles.
She gave him a deadpan stare, discontent that he stopped. Jax had rubbed her back quite often, but he lacked the delicate touch to really get in the way Joe did, as well as the grip strength to back it up. Maybe she should ask?
Regardless, the male was raising his brow at the continued ruminations taking her away from their work, a slight hint of concern in his eyes.
“If I strip off, would you do more?” she prodded teasingly to cover her absent mind, her eyes going from sensual to shocked when he gripped her by the jaw, manipulating her head as his gaze scoured her face for something.
“When’s the last time you slept?”
“What do you mean?”
He tightened his hold on her, an annoyed expression marred by worry. “You’re not all there today. Plus, your tail had been flicking by your feet on and off for a while.”
He let her glance down. The traitorous appendage was doing as he said, a subdued expectation percolating in the orange fluff licking the ground around her legs as it waited for a tail that didn’t exist to seek it. She didn’t want to tell him that she could only drift off when she was with him since he had gotten hurt—Jax’s presence only soothing half of her unrest. She didn’t want to think about why, though there were other reasons too.
She wasn’t stupid, she knew that her inclusion was irritating Tel; the grey-furred female grew less and less concerned about the arrangement Joseph agreed to in the wake of whatever compulsion was driving the Blade to be in constant contact with her mate. Harrow had a sneaking suspicion that Tel had bonded, but didn’t have enough evidence to confidently say. It would explain the anxiety when Joe wasn’t around for a while, as well as the increasingly close relationship between her and Pan, but some things just didn’t line up right.
She pushed his paw aside lightly, turning her attention to the thing they had spent most of the last few suns working on rather than thoughts that didn’t matter. “I’ll get some rest later, when Jax gets off duty. Is it done now?”
Joseph hummed his disapproval, but a slow blink and a shrug seemed enough for him to shelf the issue for the time being. “As done as it’s going to be. At least until we get some feedback.”
“So, do we show this to Bratik or Sorren first?” she asked, happy to switch topics.
“Both,” he answered tiredly, “I think they’re out back in the sun.”
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“A moving chair?” Bratik queried curiously from his seated position, Sorren allowing the mate to rest their head against his chest. “I would not have expected to see one in a place like this.”
“Custom order,” Joseph explained with a grin, patting the ‘wheelchair’ fondly. “It’s a heavy bastard, but the metal we had to use for a few parts is solid until we can get a roller underway for tubes.”
“Think that will be an issue?” Harrow added to the translation, the question directed to the able-bodied of the two.
Sorren lit up with a bright smile, gratitude written all over his face. “Not at all. Bratik will be able to travel wherever he would like with this, yes?”
Joseph scratched his chin, a pensive expression returned. “Yes and no. It’s too heavy to do anything by himself—not with one arm, anyway. It won’t be a problem if someone helps him around, though.”
The ex-High Hunter returned a dry chuckle, a slightly resigned tone to his voice. “I suppose I will be of limited use.”
“Lots of use to be had yet, Bratik,” Joe insisted with a paw raised chest high to distance himself from the assertion. “If nothing else, Sorren will like the help around the chapel.”
“And we might get someone with more medical experience,” Harrow offered, pausing to think. “Who knows, we might get lucky and physiotherapy will take care of most of it. Could get use of your leg again, and the arm will heal naturally. Hopefully, back to normal.”
The mated males looked at each other, nodding with hopeful expressions. Sorren bowed his head towards the Human. “Regardless, your paws are what keeps my mate with me. Even this much is more than I could have ever asked for. You have my heartfelt thanks, Grand Hunter.”
“Oh, fuck off with the title,” the male grumbled, gesturing for Harrow to keep his whining to himself for the moment instead of translating it. “Let’s get him in the chair and you guys can go for a walk. Sound good?”
They accepted, Sorren and Joseph helping the ash-furred male into his new mode of transportation. A few tests proved that he wouldn’t be able to do much in it without assistance, but he might be able to go around the den where the floors were level. Even the Hall wasn’t expecting too much of him, which seemed to ease the self-pity that the injured male felt.
With a look of joy that Harrow doubted would have ever existed on the enfeebled male’s face ever again, the two took a small stroll around the farm plot, Bratik reaching out and lightly brushing his paw over the leaves as they passed by. Sorren's look of contentment stirred something within the female. Just seeing that Joseph was willing to spend so many sleepless moons for their den was one thing, but doing the same for all in his pack made her pause, her tail once again low and expectant.
She excused herself as the two recently-mobile Lilhuns did the same to show off the new accommodation to their friends, the orange-furred female heading out to check on how Heralt was doing with the new wire she had asked him to make. The thing Tel had her working on in secret was almost done, and all the pieces were ready for assembly, but she needed the wire and some final touch-ups before she could present it to Joe.
Anything to distract her for now.
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Joseph waited for the response to the question, mostly out of curiosity than anything else. The largest of the Atmo carved her response for all to see, though the English was effectively useless for anyone but him at the moment.
[We do not judge other species,] Mama explained via tablet, a contemplative tilt of his head returned from Tel’s lap. Pan waited for Violet to translate it onto her own writing surface, their adoptive daughter trying her blade at acting as an intermediary while the group talked.
He smirked at the arrangement they assumed in the ‘hidden sanctum’ outside of his office, the high walls blocking all but the sky above them as gentle winds flowed through the enclosed space, Pan’s white fur almost glistening from whatever moisture was left from their bath.
Tel was leaning against the wall, seated on her ankles in the shade. Joseph had taken the opportunity to lie down, his waist in the sun while he enjoyed not having to squint and feeling her thighs on his neck. Mama was lowered across from him, Pan using her as a backrest with legs splayed out. Violet was bouncing between the two every so often to claim them as a pillow whenever she wasn’t walking over to Scarlet to play with the birds—the odd collection of avians having become a regular enough occurrence that they had started entering the office when the window was open to sit on his desk. It was surprising at first, but he had given in after the first few times and now kept some jerky in there to feed them if they behaved.
“I would have assumed you of many mates. Much like smaller insects,” Tel mused, not particularly concerned with the possible insult.
Mama chittered, wiping the wax on her tablet flat as Pan closed her eyes to enjoy the breeze. [I am sure some prefer it, but the majority of us choose a partner for life.]
Joseph read the answer, wracking his brain to remember how many species stuck to a single love for their entire lives. He knew there were a few, but the specific ones escaped him. It had been quite a while since he poured over the required reading Rob had him digest before the cruise, and even then his recollection was spotty at best.
Violet translated the answer, Tel offering a correction in the grammar that he didn’t catch—if only because the script still gave him a migraine. Deciding that she was bored with practising her writing, the young Queen laid her tablet down and wandered to the edge of their area to bother Scarlet. A raven landed on her base, making for a very still Atmo as she peered over her shoulder, a slight vibration telling of her excitement.
Pan giggled, a slit of amber visible beneath her eyelid as she looked to see whatever had him so amused. Tel ran her claws through his scalp, the female being the most at ease he had seen her in a while. He offered a smile, receiving a light peck for his troubles, as well as Pan looking perfectly content with everything about the situation. Joseph looked at both of them before shifting his gaze to Violet, his relaxation becoming a hesitant frown.
“Wait, Violet uses us as a guide.” He looked at Mama with a raised brow and a defeated grin. “Am I going to need to fight off two Atmo when she grows up?”
“Overprotective?” Tel teased, poking his cheek. He scowled, her melodic laughter lightening his soul as Pan joined in. He batted the paw away, unable to keep the smile away any longer.
“She can almost kick my ass as it is. Think I’d do okay versus two of them?”
“She has been taught by yourself,” Pan said, offering him a lifeline.
“And she will surpass him when she removes her protective gear,” Tel countered, taking great joy in making sure he didn’t have a way to save his ego. Mama chittered her amusement, opting to rest her blades in front of Pan, the white-furred female laying a paw to them and stroking softly.
“Hard to be ‘top dog’ when I’m competing against living weapons,” he quipped, a thought crossing his mind. “Speaking of, Scarlet?”
“Yes, sir?” she responded, taking his tone as permission to continue playing with the birds.
“How’s Faye doing with the wolves?”
The Wraith held her arm out, a raven having landed on it and was patiently waiting for a morsel of food. “She insists they will be suitable for broader interaction soon. Idee was asked to make harnesses for them, as per your description.”
Idee, there was a surprise. The Grand Huntress giving up her position and fleeing across the land to join a pack with rumours surrounding it was a questionable move, but he had to admit, she could leave whenever she wanted under the premise of being a temporary worker. It wasn’t like he could stop her—the contract with Trill protected her—not that he would want to anyway. She had quickly become a close friend of his bonded girlfriend and the two spent much of their time chatting while they set about tailoring whatever was needed or crossed their mind.
With her inclusion to Pan’s workload, things around the base had sped up wherever leather or textiles were involved. There were even a few new summer-appropriate dresses spreading amongst the females, though they were sparse in number and were reserved for personal time. The males seemed to prefer vests or going topless as the heat increased, Jax taking to the latter more recently.
However the fashion trend started, Joseph found himself in a sea of people who looked far less ‘survivalist’ whenever the pack was winding down. Add in the new chess boards they had managed to roll out, and the barracks now occasionally held fifteen to twenty people playing games and laughing. With smaller activities in the mix—horseshoes, sparring, communal feasts after a larger hunt—people enjoying themselves had begun making the place feel welcoming.
Pan nodded towards Scarlet, watching everything with a lazily sweeping gaze. “With the forward lodge in use, our leathers have increased in production. There should be no restrictions—as far as materials are concerned—for the foreseeable future.”
“Mi’low happy to be the fuck away from me?” he asked with a sly grin. The actress was one of the first people to ask to go on the extended hunting trips, if only to get away from Toril. Maybe himself too, but he wasn’t too worried about that.
Once Toril met the first of the previous Grand Hunters to end up under Joseph, he had spent a lot of time asking her about the Human due to their extended relationship. Though it seemed to be a purely clinical set of questions, Mi’low quickly lost her temper with the inquisitive male and jumped at the chance to be free of him for a few nights. With Joseph and Pan around to supervise the rest of her pack—as well as any Heads that they were regularly employed by—there wasn’t any concern about them falling out of order. Not that the Human suspected they would, everyone was pretty well acclimated to the pack and how things worked by now; the only exception was the sparse new Lilhun who was too nervous to act up.
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As amusing as it was to have the newest members of the pack that trickled in through smaller caravans here and there bowing to him in respectful fear—most of the traders having adjusted their routes through territories to accommodate the growing pack—he really just wanted to bang his head on a wall after a few weeks of it. That was what he got for wearing what had been affectionately dubbed Wraith armour by the girls, their similar garb when ‘on duty’ designed to be as visually disturbing as possible to the animal-like race. The new trench coat sported thicker plates and some more macabre framing built-in, making it far more imposing than the previous model that had been effectively ruined by a sword. Once Atrox and Mama insisted on it, anyway.
It was very much armour now, the weight of the garment increasing threefold in response to the scar he had on his back. There was a lighter coat made for when he wasn’t going to be running into combat or scaring the shit out of the visitors, but it was getting warm enough that even that seemed like overkill—enough so that he was debating joining Jax in taking off his shirt and maybe asking if Pan could do shorts for him.
“We’re happy to be free of her,” Tel deadpanned, her distaste for the female presenting as quiet venom. Joseph reached up to tap her snout with a finger, the scrunched face and flattened ears making him chuckle.
“Be nice. She’s welcome to her opinion as long as it doesn’t cause issues.”
The grey-furred female leaned lower to pout at him, her subtle dark stripes highlighting her lithe form. “You are my Sheath and her Grand Hunter; the only grievances levied against you should be that you do not bed her.”
He rolled his eyes, Pan’s chuckling ruining any minor annoyance he might have had regarding the almost reverential opinion Tel held of him at times. Well, when she wasn’t scolding him for doing something stupid, anyway.
“Want me to?” he asked sarcastically, a nonplussed expression showing how appealing he found the prospect.
“Want me to bed you?” she challenged with preemptive victory in her voice. He opened his mouth to argue, closing it when she extended a claw in playful threat.
“Pan, Tel’s bullying me.”
The white-furred female freed herself from Mama, the Atmo watching Violet try to mimic Scarlet by holding her joint out for a raven to land on and failing so far. Pan stood over them, her normally short frame towering. She placed a fist to her lips for a moment before unceremoniously nudging him onto only one of Tel’s thighs while she laid down to occupy the other, a paw grabbing for his hand as she closed her eyes to get comfortable.
“I am not furniture,” Tel complained with a laugh, Pan disregarding her with her own.
“You must bully us both now,” she declared, a wide yawn betraying the sleepiness the heat of the sun imparted on her. Tel grumbled, but copied the stroking of Joseph’s scalp on Pan, the latter dozing within seconds. The Grand Hunter glanced up to the grey-furred female, the warm smile of contentment complimenting her own drooping eyelids, her having gained some comfort having the two of them within her touch. He found the whole arrangement soothing, enough so that he was likely fighting Tel for who fell asleep next.
Whoever it was, Mama’s quiet chittering was what he drifted off to, Violet’s hushed excitement likely telling of her success in having a bird use her as a perch.
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“Think it’ll work?” he asked the seated white-furred male, Toril pondering his request with his persistent smile. Tersa was busy crushing some more of the purple crystal that worked as a painkiller for the pack, a mining expedition having returned with some. The two were in the process of trying to break down as many things as they could so the chemist could run tests—though he was limited in materials for now.
The small building they had erected to act as a lab was built with expansion in mind, so it wasn’t as thoroughly insulated as the other constructions. Luckily, the heat meant that it wasn’t such a concern for now. It wasn’t overly furnished—a few tables and benches to act as work surfaces and storage—but the ex-Grand Hunter was more than happy to do his job with the stone and metal tools, ironwood substituting where better variants had yet to be produced. Some containers lined a table against the wall, consisting of mostly compounds he had managed to make so far. Something that was looking to be a mild acid that Pan used for her leather processing, but concentrated enough for other uses, was stored in an iron-lined container, though Joseph couldn’t wager how necessary the precaution was. He wasn’t about to tell the guy whose job it was to deal with the stuff what to do.
Toril’s eyes wandered over to Kaslin, the Wraith dutifully sorting some new materials into piles based on some obscure metric. Although the bronze-furred female seemed reticent and professional, Joseph knew for a fact that she was tied with Tel for her sadistic streak once the shackles of her disguise loosened. The iron-tipped whip she wore as a sash around her hips was tied off in a large bow behind her back, looking like little more than a fashion accessory until it was needed. A twitch of her paw, and she had an excess of twenty feet of supersonic lethality at her fingertips. Claw tips. Claws.
The whip was fucking scary.
Though the servile female had been assigned as their primary supervision since the two joined, neither seemed to suspect that ‘Klohe’ was the one carrying out a lot of their more mundane tasks while Toril taught Tersa the smaller nuances of chemistry. Though they may have expected some hyper-specialized Blade to be watching them through a scope or something, the fact that the biggest threat in the room was currently placing several strips of healroot into some sort of solution while passively listening to the conversation was amusing to the Human.
“I believe it would, though I ask that I not be involved in its creation,” the chemist answered after considering it, his wandering gaze settling on Tersa looking proud over her pestle and mortar. It was small moments like that where Joseph could see the smile reach the male’s eyes, instead of seeming like an odd resting position for his face.
“Hey, works for me. I’m just glad you haven’t kicked me out for asking your opinion.”
Toril chuckled, waving a paw dismissively. “I doubt you will use your devices for more than defending your pack, Grand Hunter.”
He sighed, glancing at Pan as she tried to subdue her giggling at his frustrations. “I doubt a spice bomb would bring down a settlement.” He paused, his brow furrowed. “Maybe if we add a chamber for alcohol and set up an ignition? Fire bomb?”
The white-furred male simply smiled, content to leave the idea where it was. Joseph nodded, raising a palm up in apology.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to probe for your thoughts on it.”
“Worry not,” the male assured. “Your mind is much like the orange-furred female and my own; we tend to become absorbed by our musings. I do not take offence.”
“Good,” he replied with a relieved breath. “Anything you need before I head off?”
Toril’s eyes lost focus before coming back to the conversation with a blink. “Besides glassware, and perhaps some samples from yourself, there is little we would benefit from at the moment. Much of our work is determining the properties of the materials we have.”
“Samples?” both him and Pan asked at once, neither expecting such a request. Tersa raised a brow from her work, having caught the slight slip. Joseph kept his confused expression, hoping that the Blade assumed he picked up a word here and there rather than the fact that his girlfriend’s translation was largely unneeded by now.
“Oh yes. Blood, urine, sweat, saliva,” Toril listed off, his excitement growing. “You are an alien, Grand Hunter, there is much potential within your body. Compounds that perhaps may be uniquely produced or interactions to chemicals that our forms do not have.”
He opened his mouth, fluttering it closed as he tried to formulate a response. He clamped it shut, drawing his lips thin. “I…. guess? You’re the expert. Though, I thought you didn’t deal with biochemistry?”
The chemist laughed lightly. “All chemistry is fascinating, Grand Hunter. I am merely more versed in some than others.”
Joseph waited for more, but it seemed that is all he was going to get in response. “I don’t want to whip it out to piss here, but I can do blood and saliva now, if you want.”
The male lit up, beckoning Tersa and fetching a pair of processed cups. Gesturing for his arm, Toril gently examined it, finding the veins easily and dipping his claw in alcohol to sterilize it before making a surprisingly clean cut. He let a steady drip of the crimson fluid fill a portion of the container while the Blade held the other towards his mouth.
He eyed the female cautiously, but she seemed fairly unperturbed by the odd requirement, so he gathered as much saliva as he could and poured it into the cup, repeating it twice more when she kept it there.
Satisfied with their collections, Tersa placed the spit aside with some other containers, sealing the top with a leaf while Toril happily waited for the Human’s natural clotting factor to stymie the bleeding. He released Joseph’s arm, the Grand Hunter glancing around for healroot to bandage the new cut fruitlessly.
“May I?” Pan offered, a claw pointing to his wrist. Not seeing the harm in it, and figuring that it would work just as well for the purpose, he extended his arm. Her warm and textured tongue grazed over the wound a few times, the female nodding to herself when she was satisfied that it was working as she wished.
Toril watched the interaction with a speculative flame in his eye, more and more interest garnered in the sealed injury. “Curious.”
“What is?” Joseph asked, wiping the saliva off his skin gingerly with his shirt.
“That worked almost instantly,” the chemist commented, his smile faltering as his mind churned. “Have you previous experience with the interaction?”
He nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, Harrow licked the cut on my back when I brought Bratik back. Stopped the bleeding pretty much on the spot, but healroot was needed to seal it and whatnot. Didn’t get infected, at least.”
The white-furred male hummed to himself, spinning on his chair and reaching for a few containers. Sensing that the Human had stopped existing for the guy, Joseph bid farewell to Tersa and Kaslin, receiving a disinterested wave and a bow in return. Gesturing for Pan to lead the way, they left the lab, coming out across from the Hall. A Lilhun from security greeted them with a hurried pace.
“Grand Hunter, Huntress Pan. I pray the sun has treated you well,” the guard opened, their chest heaving slightly from the jog.
“You as well,” Pan returned politely, her head tilting in response to the sudden approach, “What may we be of assistance in?”
“There is another caravan.”
Her brow furrowed. “Yes, we have them come fairly regularly now. Is there something in particular about it?”
The security member seemed conflicted, glancing at Joseph. “They are transporting Atmo.”
“Atmo?” Joseph prodded, his eyes narrowing at the phrasing. “As in ‘Atmo are a part of the group?’”
The guard blinked, surprised to hear passable Lilhun from the Human. Joseph didn’t care about the mistake; something about how it was said had his instincts flickering flames internally.
“N-no, they…they are transporting them on carriages.”
His eye twitched. “Details. Now.”
The Lilhun shrunk, unaccustomed to the Grand Hunter being anything but relaxed or mildly annoyed. Pan wrapped her tail around his hand, grounding him from losing his temper. He took a breath to even himself out.
“Sorry. What do you mean? Are they being treated like animals?”
A nod was returned after a moment, the flicker of anger growing into a solid base of embers but a light breeze away from igniting. He heard a low growl behind him, Pan likewise disturbed by the news.
“Escort them in,” he decided, a steeled expression dominating his face. “If we’re lucky, they’re just here to ‘trade’ for them and we can get them the fuck out of my territory. If we’re really lucky, they can help bring more—costs be damned.”
“If we are not so lucky?” the guard asked after a few seconds, their paw clutching a sword the pack had traded for while Heralt was busy with other projects. Joseph waved them off.
“Then we deal with it as needed.”
The security member nodded, jogging back towards the gate at a slightly faster pace than they had arrived. Pan settled a bit, her loosening tail letting blood flow back into his fingers.
“Will you require your Wraith armour?”
He shook his head. “Not this time.” A sharp whistle drew two Wraiths from the shadows, Scarlet currently watching over Violet as the Queen worked with Rose and Cobalt to clean the den under Volta’s guidance. The deep gold-furred and brown-furred servants assumed their subdued posture in front of him, their heads lowered and eyes closed.
“You called, sir?”
“Faye, Raine, there’s a caravan coming with Atmo being treated like trade goods. I want both of you ready to act on my signal if it’s needed.”
The two females exchanged a glance at his tone, a subtle sniff of the air told them of his simmering displeasure. With a pair of lurid smiles, they bowed, slipping away without a sound. He turned back to Pan, his girlfriend eyeing him with an intensity he suspected he was returning.
“Where’s Tel?”
“She should be preparing for her lessons with her protege.”
He cursed, looking back towards the gate to see the first hint of the caravan, his eyes widening as he saw the carts.
Ten Atmo, several close to Violet in size, all confined within a large cage on wheels. The adults were crowding around the children, their carapaces gashed and cut.
A black-furred paw encapsulated his shoulder, stopping him from marching over and breaking everyone that allowed the treatment to happen to the insects.
“Calm, Grand Hunter,” came the low baritone voice of Jax, Joseph shooting a venomous glare back. “You are scaring your pack.”
He glanced around, several passing members having tried their best to meld into walls when the surfaces stopped their panicked egress, the more senior Lilhuns clutching for their weapons and looking to him for permission to act on his rage. They seemed just as incensed to see people like the Atmo they had been working with treated so poorly. The solidarity eased him back a few levels.
Sensing the loaded coil of wrath being loosened slightly under his touch, Jax released him. “It would be wise to ascertain if there are more within their territory before we begin a war, Joseph. We may be of enough might to subdue these visitors, but we are ill equipped to fight the treaty.”
He spit, the only outlet for his vitriol being the simple action, but it spoke all the words it needed to. The pack moved their paws from their weapons, the damage done. The air throughout the settlement grew thick with enmity.
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“Two hundred of those snares, thirty bows, and a cart of meat,” the male offered calmly, the tension palpable.
Though they allowed two guards to enter with the trader—mostly in response to the aura permeating throughout the settlement—Joseph had played his interactions in a fairly levelheaded manner, though Jax was unable to scent if the Grand Hunter was presenting as such. Based on the subtle twitches of the guards, it was likely that they suspected he would attack at any moment.
It meant that the Human had reigned in his anger quite a bit. Neither were retreating or showing open hostility.
“For ten of those weapons and a few servants?” Joseph responded incredulously, his distaste evident for the descriptor of the Atmo. Pan didn’t carry the same tone, but her claws resting on the deployment mechanism of her bracers told of her opinion. “No. One hundred and twenty. We can supply the payment within the hour and you can be on your way.”
“They are very well trained,” the trader countered with a raised paw. “Simply threaten the smaller ones and the largest will follow your commands.”
A crack from the desk pierced the room, Joseph’s grip on a shelf snapping it. A shiver ran up Jax's spine at his malice, the facade of translation fading to cold Lilhun.
“One hundred snares. Twenty bows. A cart of meat,” he listed tersely, each word clipped with growled purpose. Somehow, the clumsy pronunciation faded with his increasingly calm demeanour. It didn’t make the black-furred male any more relaxed, because each syllable carried a judgment weighing heavily on it. “Then you leave here enriched, and I get the insects and servants. This is not a haggle; this is a peace offering. Bring any other weapon you have when you make your next trip, and we will open regular trade relations. We might even offer you better terms than reasonable for the trouble.”
The two guards pulled their swords slightly, an eye kept on the uncovered Human. The merchant raised a paw to stop them with far more confidence than he should still have.
“You speak our language, yet do not know of the might Grand Hunter Pernel has at his disposal? What of Grand Hunter Trill? Do you wish to test the treaty?”
Joseph leaned forward in his chair, his claws interlaced on the desk. “I don’t care. He doesn’t want the insects. You can ferry them wherever you want, but you won’t be able to feed them long enough for them to survive the trip. They’re quite the drain in those numbers, right? Your supplies dwindled far faster than you thought, even when you starved them. What use is dead goods later when you could trade for them now, while they’re alive?”
The male narrowed his eyes. “Deceased or not, their blades have value. We would trade for their limbs elsewhere, if so.”
“And get next to nothing for it,” he countered quickly. “You make the deal now, and you have weapons, hunting supplies, and enough food to trade down the line—if not just to eat yourselves.” He pointed a claw at the trader. “Deny me, and you lose out on a very profitable client.”
“And our lives,” the male commented, parsing the hidden threat. Joseph stared, not bothering to confirm or deny. The Lilhun mused the offer before nodding sharply. “So it will be. One hundred snares, twenty bows, and a cart of meat. In return, you will receive the weapons and servants, as well as priority when we trade the last batch. I pray for a fruitful arrangement, Grand Hunter, lest the treaty be invoked.”
Jax almost expected the Grand Hunter to offer to ‘shake hands,’ but the Human simply returned the nod and waved him off, Faye escorting the group outside as Raine remained.
“Raine, coordinate a few people to gather what they need. Order from the Grand Hunter. I want them packed up and gone before nightfall.”
The Wraith bowed, leaving with the door clacking closed behind her. Jax blinked.
“You are commanding the pack directly? Are you well?”
A loud crash jolted him from his stupor, Joseph’s fist passing through the table startling him, tablets of reports clattering to the ground.
“Kids, Jax,” the male spat, agony burning in his whispered words. “They were threatening the fucking kids to get the adults to listen. ‘Am I well?’ Fuck no, I’m not okay. I want to break every cock-sucking bone in their fucking bodies and dump the fucking mess on Pernel’s doorstep before burning the fucker alive.”
Joseph paused, his snarl and Lilhun-infused growl abating, a tearful remorse taking its place. “Come on. There’s Atmo who need treatment and people I need to get off my fucking lawn.”
The door to the office opened abruptly, Harrow peeking in. A short sniff and her ears pinned back, a hesitant fear stealing her faculties from her as she hid behind the wall.
“H-hey… Um… Joe?”
The Grand Hunter noticed the effect he was having, glancing at Pan, the white-furred female oddly subdued, though there was a sharp edge to her eyes. He looked back to the orange-furred female.
“What?” he snapped, stopping to rub his paws over his face roughly for a moment, a growl into his palms levelling his tone. “Sorry, just got worked up; it’s nothing about you. What do you need?”
“There’s…there’s a pending communication on the terminal. It’s marked ‘urgent.’ I didn’t want to accept it without you.”
Jax walked over to the torn male to pat his back. “Go sate your curiosity, Grand Hunter. Your presence would only incite the pack as it is. We will see to it that they leave swiftly.”
The Human glared at him for a while, exhaling through his nose before nodding. “Okay. Keep an eye out. I doubt the girls will ask questions if you give them the ‘go-ahead’ when shit goes down.”
“We will act with impunity,” Jax growled, forgetting himself long enough to dig his claws in the male. He was keeping himself detached, but the possibility of such a fate befalling the den-kit had scorched his own self control as well. If they so much as bore steel against Violet, he doubted he would be the first to draw blood in the pack—with or without Joseph’s command.
Accepting the answer, and presumably calming down enough to think it through, the Grand Hunter left the room, pausing at the door to look back. “Jax?”
“Yes, Grand Hunter?”
The Human remained silent for a long while, a twitch of his lip betraying the snarl barely concealed as Pan walked quietly past him to oversee the exchange outside.
“One fucking move towards the Atmo,” he warned. “I want them buried. No questions. No regrets.”
Jax knew that not one iota of the male was hidden behind those words. It was a sincere order. The black-furred male bowed for the first time in a long time.
“It will be done, Grand Hunter, as you command.”