“Ready for this?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“How is that good? Like, at all?”

“You are never ready. Saying you are is hubris.”

“What about being prepared then?”

“Preparation does not make you ready, it merely provides a cushion to brace yourself on.”

“You’ve been awful talkative lately.”

“I must practice the language.”

“But right NOW?”

“...Why not?”

“...”

“...”

Isirith pursed her lips, thought about responding, but just let it off with a disappointed look. Now was not the time to sigh, that would be too loud. Sometimes though, she honestly could not understand this feel-male.

“By the way, why art we whispering?”

“One, art is the old fashion way of saying are, so you should probably use are. Two, because they will hear freakin’ hear us if they don’t.”

“What does freakin’ mean?”

“I thought you were the one teaching me!”

“Learning and growing is not shameful.”

Isirith couldn’t tell if she was biting down on her lip in annoyance, stress, or pure fear. Why is this heavily armored huge, bulky warrior acting as if she were a child?

“Two, we are whispering so they don’t hear us.”

“Oh.”

Isirith turned to Tomoee with wide eyes.

“SHUT UP!”

In response, Tomoee gave her a righteous smack to the top of the head, one that dazed her for a couple of minutes.

“I am your superior. Do not talk to me that way. Also, they already heard us coming. I was just thinking you had an actual reason for whispering, as in maybe it was a way for your culture to hype themselves up before something.”

Isirith just gave a dizzy “Wha?”

“I know what I am doing, do not question me.”

She rubbed the enlarging welt on her head. Metal really hurt. Still, she was the one in the wrong, even she could realize it. However, she wanted to still give her personal opinion. “I liked it when you talked less.”

Tomoee nodded, “Vocalization is an important process of learning something complex, and I do not enjoy how… different this makes me. We must all make… make… sacrifices?”

“Yes.”

“We must all make sacrifices from time to time. I will have learned the language within another day, and I will be back to my usual self. Now, back to the task at hand.”

...

She pointed down the one path there was in the giant rock formation. It led to pitch black, and the mouth of the cave was a while back. It was indistinguishable when the walls ended and a cave began.

Crouching, Tomoe cupped her ear with her hand. Her arms draped over her knee, making a repetitive tapping sound on the stone. She would shift every now and then, every time a new surface and a new position. After the fourth tap on the wall, she stopped.

“They have taken a formation.” A well done formation at that, two or three in the front to lead them in, before the four on each side close in. The beasts’ intelligence impressed her yet again, yet she was still confused. Such an intelligent creature would never fall for such the simple trick she previously used to draw one out.

Her right hand’s fingers dressed her chin. It seemed the alpha of the pack was the one to show their genius, while the rest, while superior in brainpower to their lesser brethren, were merely followers.

She resumed tapping her fingers on the floor while grabbing her bow with her other hand. ”Isirith, grab the heavy container of black powder. The one with gold trim.”

Not talking back, she picked up the jar slightly bigger than the others, gold lining the edges of the lid. It was easily discernible from the others, and received its own corner of the bag. Tomoe, being able to tell that Isirith was pondering why it was so special, and possibly how delicious it was due to the fact it looked like spices, tapped a little harder to get her attention. A motion that was quite effective.

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“Now get the thin metal case.”

It took a bit longer this time, her hands constantly searching, but eventually it was found against one of the sides of the bag. It had small lines, around the center and from the bottom to the top, and one knob on the top, the entire crest being extremely thick and weighty compared to the rest of the design. Other than that, its layer seemed to consist of small bumps rather than a solid skin. Feeling like she would be better off giving it to her now rather than later, she did so.

Isirith watched in fascination despite the rising tension of the situation as Tomoe opened the lid of the jar and, twisting the knob before it popped out with slight resistance, poured in the black powder. Tomoe, after asking for a ‘match’, soon obtained one through Isirith, and she struck it.

The way she filled it up was not to the brim, but rather only semi-close. Just enough space for the lit match to dig in, the fire being above the powder, the edges of red licking the substance.

“This was an experimental thing for my people. We have not yet found a good way to implement it without danger. That includes now.” She turned to her companion light sparks flickering out of the metal. “Run in when the signal begins, prepare for a fight for your life.”

“What’s the signal?"

Using her inhuman dexterity, Tomoe put the knob on, and twisted it, making a complete airlock seal before immediately tossing it away. It was quite obvious how tense she was, both in her rush to throw the object as if her life depended on it and her stiff manner.

Taking both hands, Tomoe covered Isirith’s ears.

Isirith didn’t even get to mouth what she wanted to say.

…

Boom wouldn’t even get to describe it. Not to Isirith.

She could feel a ringing and a blaring and a woozing, but perhaps the woozing was from her own vision. She could feel the pitter patter vibrations on Tomoee’s armor as she covered her ears. Heck, she couldn’t imagine what would have happened if her ears weren’t covered. Her whole body felt like shaking.

Maybe it would be a BOOM or a BOOOOOM! No, something more to her.

Isirith’s body was jostled a bit more as she saw the armored feel-male shake her, before standing up and rushing into the smoke. She could feel the trace of death on the metal she shot through the air, yet the haze in her mind lingered.

Smoke?

Ahh yes, there was smoke. Smoke from the bang. The bright bang. Or maybe it was a boom. Pellets went flying everywhere, and there were whimpers. Of pain? Yes of pain. Maybe the boom should be a bigger boom, like BOOM or, wait.

She remembered something about getting up at the signal. That was probably the signal. She didn’t want to get hit on the head again. Was she in shock? Or maybe it should be shoooooockkkkk.

Wiggling her head a bit, hair fluttering this way and that, she grabbed her spear, awkwardly standing up as if she were learning to do so again. Still, she pushed herself forward.

Speeding up without hope to catch up, she already lost Tomoee in the dense cloud that was created. The snarls were far outweighed by the whimpers, while some were cut short. They were varied, in the sense of location at least. Standing up or on the floor. So many noises. None from the ceiling thankfully. Ceiling noises wouldn’t be so good, whether it would be rock ceiling noises or wolf ceiling noises.

She took a deep breath before her body impacted the smog.

She kept her eyes closed, letting her loud ears guide her through the madness. No, she couldn’t be exact, but she didn’t have to be. Just good enough.

With gentle, silent footing and gentle, silent feet, she leaned in on her posture, the confusion spread like wildfire. She kept her movement slow, steady. To the right she heard heavy steps, metal ricocheting off the floor in the world of sound. The harmony of the wild dogs were coming to a close, ever so quickly. And yet the left section kept rumbling, three of them stirred. In the center one seemed pained, one annoyed, and one in good condition. She didn’t know the layout of the room, she didn’t have to.

Going opposite the metal din in the air, she crept close to the ferocious snarling. Step. Step. Stop. Step. Every movement, calculated at an unconscious level, seared into her mind. A little bit of training, but a natural instinct she thought she never had most of all. It brought turmoil when put together, a thing she couldn’t describe, and yet that turmoil put her at ease. A chaos she never knew she was familiar with.

With a great reckoning, her spear lunged into the creature’s throat. A crazed pain was voiced from the animal, but her strike continued to follow through. The blade sank into the ground, after catching its neck as she twisted, making sure it bled out or couldn’t breathe. The blades on the side of the spear kept it pinned, power revoked to fight back.

Her eyes opened just a slit. The screen wouldn’t last for much longer, but their ears would still be under duress, almost certainly bleeding.

She stopped. Her small twitches ceased. Oxygen left and entered her mouth and nose through tiny huffs. She was a statue, part of the stone. The hushed stone. The unmoving stone. The unliving stone. Stone that was part of the environment. She didn’t exist.

Her prey’s struggles were coming to a close, the useless endeavor using whatever remaining life it had. Just as the dying wolf was vulnerable she too was, her weapon occupied with another purpose. She was part of the terrain, however. She would not be attacked, as long as she stayed that way. The terrain didn’t fear, nor did it show panic, spasm and such.

Her mind was soon emptied. Her nostrils took in the harsh burning flakes and her ears took in the waves of the combat. Her eyes inhaled the darkness of her eyelids as her chest barely moved. Her hands felt the cold iron of her most trusted companion while she tasted the volatile nature of the situation.

Blank. Not even calm disturbed her thoughts. Still, she couldn’t help but think about the tasty looking powder with a small grin. It seems she would skip out on tasting that substance.

Inhale.

…

Exhale.

Orochi slayed yet another disoriented foe. The gritty smell of gunpowder rejuvenated her body, the familiarity dragging along memory, and memory reaction.

The hide was indeed tough, yet not enough to prevent the points of her edges. With her level of control it was not to the smoothness of butter, but similar enough. The tender feeling of the slice confirmed itself through the tension of the blade, the creak of the armor, the pull of her muscle. She took it all in, and expounded a terrifying maelstrom.

Their dexterity meant nothing to her, merely delaying inevitable demise by no longer than half a second, a full one if she intended to cut the nerves rather than sever the head. Her arrows hit true to their marks, killing one of the ones wounded lightly by the grenade. It was a very new idea, combining explosion with projectile, and it would likely never see use. It would be too hard to set off safely, let alone what it actually did compared to the tedious work to use it. Still, it helped for the situation, which was good.

More blood splattered on her plate gear, matching to the color scheme. With her side cleared, she would next take out the one she almost killed with the arrow. Then the one harmed by the grenade, and then the healthiest one.

Her eyes closed, the endless drivel blocked out. She could no longer hear Isirith, along with one of the wolves. Using the pall of the explosive as a camouflage as well as a way of ambush. A good use of it, she would leave the injured and healthy of the pack for her. The one she shot would bleed out anyway.

For now… Her head turned to the side, towards the eyes she could feel sizing her up even through the veil she created.

With confidence, she slowly walked towards whatever the thing was.

It’s time for the real issue.