Every clawfall sent a juddering shock up his limbs, the pounding of his own paws against the ground lost under the thunder of the herd he and his siblings pursued.
Nameless sent a quick glance to his right; Shiver, Fang, and Greye sprinting beside him in a staggered line, he and the more… overt of his siblings having been ordered to perform as chasers in today’s hunt.
He didn’t spare his siblings more than that glance, confirming his position in relation to them, before quickly returning his attention to their lumbering prey.
The herd of Phiomia* stampeded away from them, their speed largely belying their considerable mass. In panic and agitation, they released strident bursts of sound through their short trunks – adding to the cacophony of their charge – masking Nameless and his siblings’ movements under a shroud of noise.
With every impact of their wide feet against the ground Nameless watched as their muted grey-brown hide rippled under the force of their steps; soil, plants, and dust being compacted into the ground or tossed behind the Phiomia in their wild rush.
They were powerful creatures even lacking in magical properties as they were; their bulk and muscles, in conjunction with their two short upper tusks and the broad flat teeth that jutted straight out from their lower jaw, being just as dangerous to Nameless and his siblings as anything of the magical variety were.
“A clawful of Stage Ones and the majority of the herd at the Second, with two that give me the sense that they’re at the cusp of becoming Threes.” Nameless evaluated, confident enough in his mental acuity now to split his attention, “Yet even the strongest amongst their herd are manageable without the Traits or Magic to elevate their threat…”
Over the many hunts and battles he had undertaken beside his siblings recently, Nameless had begun to realize that Stages – while a mandatory step in accruing greater power – were almost meaningless without the Skills, Traits, and Magic to support and enhance them. By just comparing the I’thekik True Warrior to even the strongest amongst the Phiomia, or other creature he had hunted, the difference in quality to Nameless was clear… and it made him appreciate his race’s [Mythical Constitution] all the more.
Even with all of the Stage Twos amongst their herd, the Phiomia were bereft of even the hint of magic like a True Warrior – or even he and his siblings – contained; the weight of The Gap between himself and the elephantine creatures being nearly as negligible as that of the false warriors he had contended against, nearly a full moon ago, even despite the Phiomia being considerably more dangerous in comparison.
“And that difference in quality is why they flee from my siblings and I, even when we are only of the First Stage.” Nameless thought as he continued to herd the Phiomia with his siblings, carefully picking a path that would allow him to continue at speed without risking injury, “Their natural strength can only carry them so far and – being only Mundane Beasts – their opportunities to gain in the sort of strength that would truly make them a threat is, unfortunately, something that can only happen through time… and a significant amount of luck.”
But when beings like himself and his siblings existed, time was often not something these creatures had.
With even the Lesser quality of their [Constitution], it was as though Nameless and his siblings’ levels were more… impactful, each reflecting a far more meaningful rise in their power than what was likely experienced by beasts or even other monstrous beings. That, paired with their intelligence, meant that – unless their opponent were either two full stages above them or significantly more magical than themselves – he and his siblings still retained an advantage even when they were the weaker at first glance.
“Though of course, that does not mean we are invulnerable…” Nameless thought, feeling the slight twinges of discomfort across his body from the scars he had received over the recent days, “Which is why I should know better now, and save my thoughts on such matters for when a loss in focus will not endanger myself.”
Nameless fully returned his focus to pursuing the herd of Phiomia, the world around him losing the slight haze that had overtaken it in his distraction, discarding his thoughts for the time being.
He glanced around his surroundings; acknowledging not just his position in regard to his siblings, but also how far they had come since he had gotten carried away within his own thoughts.
Nameless and his siblings had managed to push the herd of Phiomia from the outskirts of the dry Savannaha to an area deeper within the large grassland; with errant snakes of muddy – near fully dried – riverbeds choked by grasses and shrubbery, widely spaced broad canopied trees, and the occasional boulder or odd rock formation, breaking up the landscape.
The uneven and grass choked field forced the Sphinx to constantly adjust their positions and watch their footing, being mindful of the sudden drops or hidden rocks that could see them wounded for their negligence.
Nameless leapt over one such small depression in the ground – partially hidden by a scraggly bush crushed awkwardly by the herd – having to harshly dig his claws into the soil as he landed to gather as much purchase as he could to retain his speed.
He continued on at a sprint, searching the horizon as he kept at harassing the edges of the herd, claws tearing through dirt and grass.
Snapping and growling at them, he forced the Phiomia to remain as bunched together as possible from his side, keeping enough distance between him and the elephantine beasts to avoid being struck by any wild attacks.
His eyes latched onto a spire of stone in the distance, barely visible through the plume of dust thrown up behind the Phiomia, standing out against the light green, yellow, and brown growth like the muted orange red horn of some great monster, “We’re too far to the left.” Nameless concluded, before breaking off a portion of his attention to spin out a tendril of his [Telepathy] to Greye, Shiver, and Fang.
Nameless was immeasurably glad his siblings had gotten to such a point with their own [Telepathy] skills for him to make such connections without garnering much undue attention… even if still being limited to communicating in the most basic of manners remained an active frustration of his.
[Far. Left. Stone. Shift. Herd. Right.] He laced his words heavily with his intent and vision, describing less through the words than through emotion and sight, that they were out of position.
He felt as his siblings parsed through his telepathic communication – the surprise at his ability no longer as present after experiencing it multiple times before now – their minds taking a moment to establish what he was trying to convey, with what they were currently doing.
While his siblings quickly examined the thoughts he presented, Nameless split his focus between retaining his connection and herding the Phiomia, already beginning to shift himself forward to start moving the beasts in the correct direction.
He moved himself further up the left flank of the herd as he received the first flicker of acceptance from one of his siblings.
[Push. Right. Yes.] Shiver replied to his own orders, a quick glance backwards showing that she was already putting action to her intention, working to threaten the Phiomia on the left even more.
As Shiver snapped and snarled at the beasts, Greye followed on her heels, communicating through the connection Nameless kept between all of them, [Keep. Behind.] Positioning himself so that he could keep pressuring the herd from behind, making sure that none of the Phiomia tried to break away through the Sphinx’s line.
Last replied Fang, her words thrumming with a subtle frustration, [Slow. Back. Cover.] He looked back for an instant, seeing Fang slow to encourage the Phiomia to begin shifting over to the right, her presence close enough that they remained as a herd rather than scattering away.
However something else stood out to Nameless as he turned his attention once more ahead of him, letting his connection between his siblings fade.
“Why did she look so irritated?” He only wondered about the cause of his sister’s fit of pique for a moment, before disregarding it as swiftly as his previous thoughts, “Our hunt is the priority right now. Focus!”
Scolding himself for yet another lapse in attention, Nameless increased his pace. His paws pounded against the ground, grass whipping against his legs and lower body hard enough to sting even through his hide, as his speed forced the Phiomia to increase their own.
Nameless’s notice flicked between his path ahead, the herd, his siblings, and the positions of all in relation to the spire they needed to move towards; mind spinning as he tried to balance his focus across each part of their hunt ahead…
He ran forward beside the herd, being mindful to avoid obstacles in his path by leaping and pivoting around rocks, holes, mounds, and tangled undergrowth while endeavoring to keep his speed. From his new place alongside the Phiomia, he attacked those to his right – the herd’s left – in unison with his siblings, working in tandem with them to keep the beasts panicked and confused.
Darting in to put pressure on the herd’s flank, Nameless dodged an attempted goring by a young bull male Phiomia, lashing out with his claws in response with a snarl, leaving a seeping trail of cuts across the beast’s short trunk in a spray of rich red.
The young bull – a Second Stage by feel – reeled back from Nameless with a shrill cry of pain, folding back into the herd, fleeing from Nameless’s side for the safety of the center.
The Phiomia’s wound and obvious distress caused the herd to tighten together and spurred them further on in fear. However, the wounded bull’s passage through the left side and into the middle of the herd proved an unfortunate deviation in the Sphinx’s designs.
Already mindless with fear, the herd followed the young bull’s path; their tight press against each other causing them to flee in the same direction, shifting the herd harshly to the right, rather than the gradual turn Nameless and his siblings were pursuing.
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Nameless scrambled, now at the back of the herd, snapping out telepathic strings with such a speed that his head pounded under the sudden stress.
[Forward! Control! Hurry! Catch!] He urged Fang on, almost feeling his orders surging across their connection in his panic, his mind frantically racing to think of ways to regain control over the herd before they became lost to them.
Fang’s rebuttal percolated across his mind just as Nameless began to coordinate with Shiver and Greye, the herd of Phiomia thundering away from them at speed, [Lead. Follow. Cover. Back.] Fang communicated, with an initial flash of frustration after his first addressing her; however, it was quickly smothered under a cloying tide of smug excitement that exasperated him.
“There is no “leader” in a chase of this nature… but if she desires to see herself as such, I see no reason not to allow her if it means seeing our hunt to its planned end.” Nameless thought as he acquiesced to his sister’s demand to lead – much to her obvious pleasure if the feeling that crossed their link was to be believed – and sent a set of messages to Shiver and Greye, [Cover. Control. Watch. Follow.]
His two other siblings quickly fell into pace with his orders, radiating a similar excitement, anxiety, and anticipation as himself.
Nameless watched as his siblings repositioned themselves; Fang sprinting forward to the head of the herd to begin harassing them back into their previous direction, while Greye and Shiver – as well as himself – darted around the Phiomia to wherever needed, keeping them moving and contained.
The herd began to gradually turn once more at the Sphinx’s combined efforts, the Phiomia releasing shrill calls and wails of protestation, Nameless and his siblings aggressively pressuring the beasts, nipping and snapping at them whenever necessary.
As the herd began pointing in the correct direction, Nameless and his siblings fell into their former rhythm, spreading out around the herd into their former places to coax and contain the stampeding Phiomia.
The towering rock loomed closer and closer, the varying cracks and shelves created by other stones at its base and the drought browned plant life wrapped around it, coming into greater focus as the distance between himself and the dominant landmark diminished.
“Almost there.” Nameless thought as he rushed forward, preventing a group of Phiomia from breaking away to the left, his legs and muscles beginning to ache after being under use for so long, “Just have to hold out a little longer…”
A quick glance back told him that his siblings were beginning to feel the same fatigue as he was; their breathing labored, footing less assured, reactions slower, and the vocal nature of their harrying subdued or gone entirely.
They were all tired and flagging…
Yet, as the herd charged on, Nameless found himself having to adjust to cover for each of his faltering siblings. His focus narrowed, sounds and sensations falling away to the barest of whispers as he merely began to act; dashing from his position to the space Greye had left after stumbling, sending slight adjustments through [Telepathy] to keep his siblings effective even as they tired, heading all the way over to the right to help Fang push back a particularly agitated group of Phiomia once more into the heard, and numerous other such movements.
His efforts in containing the herd and keeping them charging towards his siblings’ waiting ambush strained his body, mind, and Skills to their limits. He could feel the warmth of his efforts begin to fill his every muscle – the heat of strain sending out blooms of pain with every step – suffusing itself all the way down to his core, where he could feel his Skills beginning to blossom under the heavy use.
His every thought occupied solely by what the situation demanded of him next, his skill and body committed to making their hunt into a successful one, Nameless barely recognized the moment the herd first began to pass by the stone spire.
From an elevated position amongst the rocks, Shade and Quiet leapt down onto the left side of the herd, while the twins darted out, roaring in excitement, from a dried river embankment to strike the right.
Nameless’s mind stuttered for an instant as realized where he was, his body still running forward heedless of his momentary confusion; thoughts rapidly having to adjust to his change in surroundings, the appearance of his other siblings, and the herd’s decline into chaos.
He shook his head with a growl, tamping down on the extraneous thoughts, dust swirling around him as he ran toward where he last saw Shade and Quiet ahead of him, “Focus!”
Through the frenzied herd and thick cloud of dust they kicked up he came to find Shade; the Sphinx’s fangs sunk deeply into the throat of a young Phiomia, his prey jerking and weakly mewling as its loss of blood compounded with the exhaustion of their chase.
Nameless slowed to his side, Phiomia running wildly around them crying in panic and alarm, sending out another string of [Telepathy] to his brother.
[Help?] He asked while watching their surroundings, moving to keep himself between his brother and the rampant herd around them.
[No. Fine.] Shade answered curtly, growling as the Phiomia under him bucked, forcing him to muscle the beast down and dig his claws deeper into its hide for purchase, [Go. Help.]
With Shade’s final words came a general sense of where he had last seen Quiet… and also a tacit dismissal. However, before Nameless ran off into the chaos once more, he used his remaining connection with Shiver to give her an idea as to where their surly brother and his prey resided, “While you can refuse my help brother, Shiver’s is another matter…”
Confident that his brother would be protected even without his presence, Nameless pushed on. He proceeded further into the frenzied herd, following the thread of a direction provided by Shade, his senses overwhelmed by dust and the all-encompassing cloud of cries, growls, snarls, and stomps of the Phiomia and his siblings both.
He dodged around two Phiomia that had begun to fight between themselves – lost in their panic and agitation – their tusks leaving thick rents in their hide, staining their skin with long running trails of scarlet red and making the overturned soil around them slick with their blood. They continued their battle, heedless of his passage, their grunts, cries, and the heavy *thumps* of their every strike against one another lost within the grand cacophony.
Using his [Stealth], [Tracking], and his recently acquired [Spatial Sense] Skills, Nameless quietly navigated his surroundings further, even at a growing run. However, avoiding as many of the rampant Phiomia as he could – even using the low visibility and deafening sounds to the greatest possible advantage – proved difficult, their movement erratic and the very same elements that gave him cover also vastly reducing the effectiveness of his own Skills.
But Nameless couldn’t help himself from feeling… exhilarated under the strain.
As he avoided a charging Phiomia by a hair’s breadth – the wind of the large beast’s passage ruffling his hair and feathers – Nameless leaned fully into overcoming the difficulties surrounding him. He stretched his Skills to their fullest extent, reveling in the pressure he felt upon his soul as they were forced to adapt to his desires, each building off of and supporting the next. [Dodge], [Sprint], [Leap], and even [Tactics] flared to life, working in unison with [Tracking], [Stealth], [Spatial Sense], and Nameless’s mind and body both, turning him into an elusive blur.
“This is what I have been looking for…” Nameless thought as a leap took him over a downed Phiomia, the beast writhing in pain against the ground, before quickly having to pivot and dash around a trio of the same charging his way, “a challenge.”
Even if it wasn’t in combat, Nameless had realized over the past Cycle – especially when thinking about his experience against the I’thekik – that he felt his most comfortable when in the greatest danger. The more he was pressured, the more he felt himself grow under a challenge, the more… complete he felt.
“Maybe Shiver is not the only mad cat amongst us.” Nameless released a fur-raising chuckle as he sprinted on, feeling that he was just touching the outskirts of his sister’s general area, as imparted by Shade.
A loud yowl reached him a step later, his ears pivoting towards the familiar sound. His body turning in the same direction as his ears Nameless increased his pace even further, Quiet’s voice being obviously pained spurring him on.
The dust had begun to settle as he closed on Quiet, the once oppressant noise similarly dying down, however there yet remained enough to still obscure both his movement and senses both. Under that remaining cover Nameless more felt – than saw – Quiet, the familiarity he had with her mind and presence giving his [Telepathy] an exact location to latch upon.
[Here. Focus. Show. Hurt. Help?] Nameless carefully reached out to his sister, trying to avoid distracting her from the conflict she was obviously in.
A flicker of surprise returned to Nameless, before Quiet seemed to steady herself, [Hurt. Help me. Prey wounded.] Amongst his siblings Quiet communicated the clearest through [Telepathy], her words – and the vision she imparted to him – containing a lucidity that was otherwise lacking in the others.
From her eyes, slightly obscured by the settling dust, Nameless saw stood across a large and obviously wounded Phiomia. Flaps of skin and deep bleeding cuts covered the beast’s hindlegs and rear, Quiet’s claws having done considerable damage while she had once been latched upon it.
“She missed her ambush.” Nameless evaluated as he methodically stalked along the ground, carefully placing each step, “Caught the Phiomia on the back instead of the throat…”
Quiet and the Phiomia were at an impasse; wounded and without the element of surprise Quiet couldn’t attack without being hurt further… or worse, and the Phiomia was too injured to retreat without risking Quiet taking it down as it tried to escape.
Meaning the only way for their conflict to end was if something else came to finish it.
He kept their connection wide open as he continued sneaking around, providing Quiet with as much a view and feeling of his own position as she did him, his every step methodical and steady.
The dust was settling faster without any agitated Phiomia around to kick more of it up, but Nameless continued at his pace even with Quiet and his own nervous energy urging him to move quicker.
Too fast and he would disturb the settling dust and give himself away, too slow and the dust would be gone before he could get behind the beast, “One step at a time…”
Using his Skills, Quiet’s vision, and his own senses, Nameless felt himself finally creep into just the right place, slowly turning to face where Quiet showed the Phiomia to be, [Wait. Tell. Move.] He sent out to Quiet – still keeping his own telepathic capabilities to a slightly lesser degree than her own – and tensed against the ground in preparation.
One heartbeat. A Second. A thi-
[Ready.]
[Move!] Nameless roared the moment Quiet responded, leaping at the Phiomia’s wounded back in a swirling plume of dust.
Suddenly caught between the two Sphinx, the beast hesitated, its attention pulled in separate directions, too focused on its original enemy to adjust to the new one.
Prey frozen in place, Nameless’s leap saw him land exactly where he wanted, his claws sinking into the already torn flesh of the Phiomia’s rear, ripping a strained cry from the beast’s throat.
It bucked under him, desperate to throw him off, but Nameless just clung tighter, growling as he dug his claws even deeper into its hide. He could feel the Phiomia’s panic, hear the fear and desperation in its every labored breath, as it swung itself from side to side trying to throw him – its attacker – off.
However, in its distress, the Phiomia seemed to have forgotten that Nameless was not the only threat to its life.
Nameless watched from where he clung as Quiet emerged from the cloud of debris, he and the Phiomia had tossed up, her foreclaws outstretched and jaw wide open. She slammed into the neck of the beast, claws wrapping around its width, her fangs punching through the bottom of the Phiomia’s throat with an audible *pop*.
The beast reeled back from the pain with a broken cry, Quiet hanging from its throat, before its weight caused its damaged hindlegs to collapse out from under it.
As the Phiomia fell, Nameless unattached himself from the beast with a leap and flap of his wings, a trail of blood following his claws through the air. He landed roughly against the ground, accompanied by a massive quake, sending a shudder up each of his limbs and battering him with debris and dusty wind.
Looking towards his sister he found that the beast still lived, even bloodied as it had been. The sand around it was darkened with the Phiomia’s lifeblood, every beat of its heart drenching the ground further, with the last of its weak kicks and shifts digging moistened trenches into the soil.
The Phiomia gurgled and mewled while Quiet continued to worry at its throat, too weak to raise its head or even try and bring itself to stand, [Thanks brother.] Quiet’s voice – worryingly content and chipper – sounded in his head, her tail swaying behind her even as she continued to gnaw at the Phiomia’s throat, [That was… enlightening.]
“Maybe… Shiver and myself are more normal than I first believed…”
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Phiomia* – (Faɪ-oh-mee-uh) or (Fee-oh-mee-uh) : Fun Fact - The Phiomia is an actual extinct relative of the elephant from the Late Eocene Era and Early Oligocene.