His methodical pace had taken him near the ends of his mother’s territory, just as the edges of the once distant storm reached, the increasing pour of rain becoming the dominant sound of the jungle drowning out most others below.
Including those of his own passage.
With [Stealth], [Tracking], [Proprioception], and [Spatial Sense], Nameless had practiced cutting as quiet a path through the undergrowth he possibly could while isolated through his mother’s presence. Though – much to his frustration – his size and lack of experience made it an oft futile effort.
Even with his Skills assisting his movement – helping him notice the best trails to traverse and spot objects that could break the silence and bring attention to himself – there was just as much he failed to recognize in time or misplaced shifts and steps he performed, emphasizing his inexperience and the mediocrity of his current Skills.
“Yet another reminder of how far I still have to grow…” Nameless mused, slowing down to a halt as he felt his mother’s power reduce down to a subtle whisper against his hide.
Stopped, his ears twitched and flicked, his acute sense of hearing picking up the distant chirps and trills of birds, insects, and other noisome creatures even through the cacophony of rain and wind above. As he listened, the realization he was so close to leaving the protection of his mother’s territory dawned on him, anticipation and anxiety welling up within him like noxious gas from a bog.
While Nameless had managed to bury much of the uncertainty and doubt that had dragged him down earlier, he – begrudgingly – recognized that he was still not of sound enough mind to risk getting himself into conflict of any kind, “Even if I just want to leap directly into hunting and training, it would be the height of idiocy to do so while I still remain even slightly distracted.”
He focused on his breathing, settling the rising emotions within his chest before they could run rampant once more, “It will serve me all the more to settle myself and assure my complete commitment and focus to the path ahead, rather than rushing off in some foolish effort to compensate for my wavering… after all, a loss in time is better than the loss of my life.”
Nameless looked up as a massive gust of wind tore through the canopy above, water from rain and the trees’ leaves pelting him, soaking his fur and hide even further, “First I need to find a place to lay for the night, to think and avoid the brunt of the storm both. From there… well, I can think things through more once I am in a “safe” place again.”
With a shake, sending water flinging around him, Nameless began walking again. With every paw forward he could feel the effects of his mother’s power leave the surroundings, the whisper of her presence disappearing behind the humidity and growing ambient noise as he put the safety of her territory behind him.
As Nameless began to put distance between himself and his mother’s power-soaked region, the surrounding jungle still remained sparse of signs of life despite the increasingly present calls. While their size – or lack of it – may have contributed to his failure to catch sight of the creatures, it was far more likely to him that few living beings chanced subsisting so close to the territory of a Sphinx… and those that did, were incredibly fit for avoiding and subverting notice.
With the chirrups and clicks of wildlife to provide him company, he continued forward, his difficulties in moving easing somewhat the deeper he progressed. The canopy was thicker the further into the forest he got – even despite the drought that had withered and dried much of the valley’s flora – making it harder, though not impossible, for the undergrowth to grow to as… inconvenient lengths as on the outskirts and hinder his progression.
Eyes and [Spatial Sense] keeping a lookout for movement around him, steps still being made with care, Nameless allowed a portion of his mind to drift and merely… enjoy and relax amongst the wilds around him, now that he was no longer so stifled by the brush.
He caught the strong scent of rain in the air, leaving a lingering humid tang along his tongue, mixing and melding with the musty odors of wood, dirt, and decaying plants to create a uniquely pleasant smell. Felt the jungle soil sink beneath his paws, rising up in between his toes and sticking against his fur and paw pads, wetted as it was by the rain. He listened to the distant screeches and chittering of the wildlife, his mind conjuring up visions of creatures to match their sounds, the occasional roar of thunder or gale of wind from the approaching storm interrupting their calls with the weather’s own.
For all the Proving would be filled with danger and strife, Nameless felt it necessary for him to take moments such as this when he could… especially following the shaky start that had already occurred. He needed to take the time necessary to allow his mind to recuperate and pull together whenever possible, even if it was just through a passing instance of appreciation for his surroundings.
“How many of these moments will I really have...” He wondered as a bolt of lightning brought light to the canopy shrouded ground, “to allow myself the respite of a focus beyond conflict, survival, or growth?”
Feeling a small pang of despondence, Nameless felt he knew the answer to that thought already, “Very few I would assume. So I see no reason why I should not take them whenever they come… and I hope that one day I become powerful enough that I can have moments like these whenever I so desire, rather than leave their occurrence up to happenstance.”
He had no idea how far he had come from the den and his mother’s territory as he stopped yet again, however the lively sounds of a forest rife with life told him he had finally distanced himself enough to be firmly ensconced within the wilds.
He looked around soaking in his surroundings, trying to firmly ingrain this tentatively peaceful moment firmly in his mind, “I did not believe myself to be so much of one for wanderlust and rumination…” Nameless reflected with a chuckle, his ears twitching at the many sounds that echoed about; like the *Ki-Rup* of Gossamer Tree Frogs, the prolonged *Trill-Click* of Hollow Crickets, or the *Terri-Ti-Ti* of Umber Long Tailed Birds, “But it seems that the Proving is doing just as its name implies, demonstrating how little I have truly come to understanding myself.”
A crack of wood and a rustle of brush caused Nameless to discard his musings, his head snapping in the direction of the disturbance, his body and mind instantly on alert.
Nameless tensely hunted – with his eyes – for whatever form of creature was behind the sound, searching through the gaps between shrubs and tree trunks and over the broad leaves of other ground bound plants, for even the slightest hint of movement. Another crack resounded, his muscles twitching and breath hitching with the sound, sight jerking over to the second report to catch a flicker of the creature’s form.
What little he caught displayed a being significantly taller than himself, its large body at least at the height his wings reached partially unfurled above his own head, its movements jerky and stilted.
Uncertain as he was of its identity, Nameless lowered himself to the ground and reduced his profile, heart beating loudly in his ears, watching the shadowed creature continue on its way from a distance. With a touch of intent, he brought his [Soul Sight] to life, endeavoring to bring additional clarity to his already [Night-Vision] effected eyes, the world taking on an eerie definition.
A wave a vertigo accompanied his [Soul Sight] – his lack of frequent exposure to its full effects making itself known – causing his vision to uncomfortably undulate and shimmer. Slowly stabilizing, colours began to bloom in his eyes – even as obscured as they were by the reduced light – and the edges and shape of everything, from trunks and shrubs to rocks and leaves, became more crisp and easily discerned between.
His eyes firmly latched upon the creature, his melding of [Night-Vision] and [Soul Sight] allowed for him to recognize additional details across its form… and also relieve himself of fears of having run across something dangerous.
The large body of the Beast – as he was now sure of its not being a Monster as himself – was covered in a thick coat of mottled feathers coloured varying shades of green and, with its thick and long three-clawed legs a deep brown, made it reminiscent of an oddly walking tree. As the beast moved further, he could see its long and sinuous feathered neck appear from behind a bush, its relatively small head being held low to the dirt as its beak pecked at fallen nuts, berries, and leaves strewn across the forest floor.
“A Verdant Brush Moa.” Nameless felt himself capable of breathing a little easier at the realization that the mystery creature was no more than an herbivorous beast, a creature whose threat was only to the varying plant life surrounding.
Watching the Moa as it ponderously made its way through the jungle – swaying side to side – its beak picking at the detritus across the ground, Nameless pushed himself up and returned to his paws.
At his movement the Moa paused and stared at him with wide eyes, continuing to sway as though it were a tree in the wind, fluttering its feathers as though they too were leaves caught in a breeze.
The beast’s efforts in camouflage made him huff in amusement, his tail swaying behind him batting the foliage at his back, his attentions quickly moving elsewhere. Without the fear of a threat, Nameless looked beyond the Moa to the forest behind it, moving his sight across the jungle in an effort to discern a possible path forward.
He had come to know a great deal about the valley after all the hunts he had participated in beside his siblings, though that did not make navigation an easy process by any means. Within the jungles especially Nameless had found it difficult to not only progress, but to discover where exactly he was within them with what few memorable landforms existed within the extensive forests.
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However, he had discovered some methods to mitigate the difficulties of this particular terrain.
[Tracking] was especially potent within the jungle, allowing for him to spot the myriad tracks and game trails that cut through the undergrowth throughout. Their presence – ounce found – granting him a general direction towards possible locations of interest, that the forest’s choked and obscured horizon did not.
Though that did not mean the Skill was a perfect answer…
As an Untrained Skill, his [Tracking] only provided a slight amount of clarity and enhancement of action while he was “tracking,” with the burden of failure or success largely resting on Nameless’s own insights, experiences, and intentions at the time… Which – of course – lent itself to his often missing or misreading tracks and trails, without numerous passes or a prolonged amount of focus.
“I would likely fail a great deal more if not for having [Wisdom].” While his early “awakening” certainly granted him a flexibility of mind when utilizing Skills that he otherwise would not have had – so soon at least – what he had come to believe was of greater benefit was the Trait’s effect on “Cognitive” Skills. It seemed that what [Preternatural Wisdom] considered to be cognitive Skills was exceptionally… broad, and while not having as great an influence on the progression or potency of his Skills as a “Natural” proficiency, its effect on something like [Tracking] was nevertheless a tangible one.
He moved his eyes across the floor a couple times, ignoring the Moa still trying to mimic a tree, making a steady effort to spot any trails, tracks, or otherwise subtle signs of movement made in the soil or brush.
On a third pass, Nameless believed he caught the hint of a print in the soil. As he stared at the spot, he was gratified to watch an illusory haze rise from the soil like smoke from a flame, a sign of [Tracking]’s confirmation of his observation.
He approached the tracks, catching the Brush Moa following him with its eyes as it swayed “in the wind,” making sure to retain a measure of care with his steps so as not to disturb the bird more than it already was… nor attract the attention of anything else that may be lurking beyond his senses within the bush.
Nameless observed the prints closely, carefully removing some leaves that had fallen and partially obscured them so as to get a better look, “These had to have been made after the storm, the night last, to still be visible…”
They were the two-pointed “toe” prints of some form of hooved creature, shallowly pressed into the wettened soil with a small amount of water settled within. The damp weather did little to conserve the depression’s features, however its quality was of less import to him than the direction the tracks indicated the creature had been heading.
Tracking the prints with his eyes, Nameless saw the scattered steps of the creature lead off further into the jungle, “Wherever the creature may have gone, I can hope that its trail can bring me somewhere that may offer me more… shelter and protection than the surrounding forest can provide.”
He stepped forward, intent to start following the trail, when he paused and looked over his shoulder.
The Moa remained watching him, its mimicry continued, the absurdity of its belief that it had somehow avoided his attention bringing a smile to Nameless’s lips, “It has no idea of its failure… and considering my lack of desire to kill the beast…”
Nameless turned away and chuffed, the vision of the harmless creature innocently swaying about in the face of danger firmly implanting itself in his mind, walking away to follow the trail, “It never will.”
―――――――――
Nameless sprinted through the darkened forest floor; caution, silence, and the memories of the amusing Moa abandoned, the storm raging above – of an even more violent temper than that of the night before – making such thoughts and attentions superfluous.
He had followed the game trail for long enough that the approaching storm had arrived fully overhead, making the jungle as dark as that under a moonless night, forcing him to abandon his methodical pace for one of a more… expedient nature.
Especially given what raged behind him.
His [Night-Vision] and [Soul Sight] worked incessantly beside [Tracking], [Sprint], [Proprioception], [Spatial Sense], and even [Dodge] and [Leap] to keep him moving at speed, avoiding everything in his way as he desperately tried to escape the storm’s fury.
A flash of lightning bloomed above, a howl of wind ripping through the canopy to release a deluge of rain on him and the ground below, revealing the world to him in one blinding instance. He had to scramble to retain his footing after the flare of light, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of the spots now scattered across his sight, “I hope I have figured where I am correctly. Otherwise…”
With a growl Nameless continued running, sending a quick glance over his shoulder to measure the distance between himself and the danger that spurred him forward so frantically.
Light flickered in the distance between brush and trees, red and orange flecks floating and swirling within the wind like darting Glowflys. He could smell the smoke, taste the ash on his tongue, and feel the barest touch of a dry heat at his back.
Wildfire.
Even wettened as the forest had been by the storm of the night prior, it had become apparent that it was not enough to protect it from the burning ire of lightning from above. The storm-bourne conflagration had rapidly grown, pushing Nameless – and many other a creature – to fleeing its inexorable pace, consuming trees and undergrowth with ravenous abandon.
“If there is anything that may bring equality to the wilds – bring Beasts and Monsters of all stages low – I can think of no greater Justicar than the World itself…” He looked to his left, leaping over a bundle of roots in his way, a herd of Jungle Gazelle wildly hoping and crashing through the brush at his side unperturbed by his presence.
They weren’t the only creatures running with him, fleeing the maw of flames. Howling Crescent Monkeys rushed through the trees, a duo of Bristle Fur Tapier trundled forward with haste, and a myriad birds and other diminutive creatures darted about around him – some even going so far as to run through his legs in their panic.
The fear of the wildfire’s – and by extension storm’s – wrath, caused a sort of solidarity to fall over all the beings fleeing its crawl, none so much as giving the other a blink of hostility while under the glare of the flames.
Another strike of lightning cracked, creatures scattering in every direction at the sound, a roll of thunder mingling with agitated calls – that echoed throughout the forest – to create a cry that resounded with the terror firmly grasping the denizens within the jungle’s bounds.
Nameless shook his head, a chill running down his back as his ears rung with the sound, paws still pounding against the ground as he charged forward, “I must find that river soon… before this accord between us fails in the face of their fear and panic, and this situation becomes all the more chaotic and dangerous.”
While following the game trail earlier, Nameless had come upon a familiar clearing from one of his earlier hunts, giving him a hint of his position just before the storm and wildfire complicated matters. Ever since – even as he ran from the flames – he had been trying to stick to what he believed was the direction toward what was a dried runnel then, but was likely now, a mud and water glutted river.
With the threat of the wildfire, the river was even more attractive a destination than it was prior; the many rocky crevasses that Nameless hoped to find sanctum within, amongst its banks, falling behind in importance when compared to the protection the rapids would provide him from the coming blaze.
Though he would have to find the river first, to gain any such benefits.
Nameless didn’t let up on his speed even as he continued his search for the river – needing to retain as much distance as possible between himself and the flames – utilizing his Skills to their utmost, so as to reduce his chance of missing the only protection the forest could offer from the flames.
He kept his eyes sweeping across the forest in hopes of spotting a reflection of the river’s surface in a flash of lightning, and strained to hear through the chaos, waiting to catch the tell-tale sound of rapidly roiling waters.
While looking once again, Nameless caught a sense of danger – his fur standing on end and muscles twitching – forcing him to pivot and dodge directionlessly with a leap and a bat of his wings.
Within the air, he witnessed a large mass of muscle and fur tear through the space he had occupied – with a furious and ear-ringing squeal – clods of dirt torn and tossed behind the Beast into the darkness with each heavy hooved step.
The Beast was a Ridge-Backed Warthog, the spine of hardened overlapping plates of bone, covered by a thin layer of hide and hair, revealing the identity of the creature to Nameless as he returned to ground.
The Warthog turned on Nameless as his paws touched the soil, snuffling and scraping at the ground, swiping its tusked head side to side at him. Its beady eyes radiated an enraged hysteria, other fleeing Beasts having to avoid it in their rush to escape the flames as it pivoted and swiped with its tusks at anything close.
As Nameless took a step to put some distance between himself and the Warthog, the Beast’s attention snapped to him once more. With another squeal it charged towards him, taking a Brush Antlered Buck – who had tried to pass between them – in the flank, goring the Beast with its tusks, before crushing it under hoof as it dropped to the ground.
“I do not have the time for this!” Nameless snarled, digging a claw into the ground and tearing a paw full of dirt out of the soil and into the Hog’s path. Legs tensing under him, he watched as the spray scattered across the Warthog’s face, causing it to screech and close its eyes even as it committed to continuing its charge.
Nameless dodged out of the way of the Warthog’s charge, pivoting to keep the Beast in sight as its passage ruffled his fur and hair with a gust of wind. It passed the space he had once occupied and continued on, squealing and screeching in an impotent rage, before slamming headfirst into a thick tree with a horrifying *crack*.
He smiled maliciously as the Warthog released a cry of pain instead of fury – the stout Beast stumbling about in daze – the temptation to strike the Ridge-Back down for its mindless aggression welling up within, making him take a step towards the confused Beast…
Before a single errant ember floated past his nose, halting him in his tracks.
“My stress and fatigue are getting the better of me…” Nameless stepped back, sparing one final glare toward the Warthog before turning away, putting the Beast to his back to return to fleeing the still approaching wildfire.
“I have to run and find the river. Nothing else matters.” He reminded himself as his paws pounded against the ground, the heavy scent of smoke following him like a scavenger does a dying Beast.
He could feel the heat of the wildfire all the clearer, the short amount of time he was occupied by the Ridge-Back enough for the flames to have creeped uncomfortably close. The crackling roar of fire, mixed with the cries of thunder and lightning above, making Nameless feel as though a pack of Onyx-Fangs were baying and snapping at his heels, his sprint taking on a desperate edge.
His eyes whipped about wildly, searching through the embers and ash that swirled around him, his breaths coming out in soot laden heaves, “Just keep moving! It has to be ou-”
Nameless abruptly stopped, claws digging rents into the ground, “Was that?” His ears twitched, focus narrowing down to a thread as thin as a spider’s web, hearing hunting for the sound he thought – and hoped – he had heard.
Through the roll of thunder, cracks of lightning, pour of rain, and the roar of the building flames, he listened, parsing through every hint of noise for-
Nameless flashed an unstable smile – his eyes growing wild with a fervent relief – as the rough susurrus of a flooded river graced his ears through the chaos of sound around him, “At last…”