the hunt
"I'll overhunt the land if I keep going out into our woods. The day's nice. I'm headed up into the mountains."
This
was the sentence that had alarms ringing in Hector's mind. When Lola
said up the mountains, she no doubt meant it. He could just picture all
of the worst accidents possible if she were to go on her own. She'd
been stranded on a cliffside once before, he couldn't doubt that it
could happen again, especially now that she had extra weight and
limitations to account for. Hector opted to climb into the Subaru and
come along with her.
By the time they'd parked the car at the foot
of a seldom-used hiking trail and started up into the trees and grass
and rock the sun was well on its way to the top of the sky, and the air
was beginning to warm. It was supposed to get quite near to the
seventies in Denver today, with few clouds in the sky, with the altitude
being higher the further up the mountainside they climbed, the chill of
early spring still lingered.
It was now coming close to noon, and
while they hadn't yet bagged any large game Lola had managed to pick
off a plump hare that was dozing in a patch of sun that broke through
the trees. Either she or Hector would be carrying it along with them as
they walked. Lola was dressed in one of the few pairs of maternity
jeans that she possessed, with the cuffs tucked into her boots. She
wore a fitted gray long-sleeved shirt, no sweater or coat despite the
chill, for her temperature ran quite warm anymore. She even had the
sleeves of her shirt pushed up to the elbows as they worked their way up
an incline and continued on.
Lola with her bow and arrows, Hector with whatever it is he's using-- maybe just his teeth, why not?
"I
don't want to come out all this ways just to bring home one rabbit. I
came through here last year, and there's an old field up this way. Deer
graze in it a lot, we can set up there for a while."
Echoes of the Lost
Hector
had started to prove himself to be prone to Harano even before they
learned they were going to have a baby. It isn't that he is weak and
cannot handle pressure or the darkness the Uktena learn to live with
from an early age. It's that Hector just so soon as he arrived in Denver
began throwing himself at every challenge that arose. He had never had
to shoulder responsibility before and within a matter of months he had a
pack and a pregnant mate and the fate of a sept and the future of his
people strapped to his back.
So no one is all that surprised that
Lola Hawkes' pregnancy has him going quickly gray and stretched as taut
as the string on the bow that he made for her.
She wanted to go up
into the mountains and normally Hector would have thought that was a
great idea. But it was his great idea that had them going up to the
mountains early in December when the land turned dark and something came
out of the dark to take him over. Lola had had to knock him to the
ground and beg him to come back to himself. They never talked about
this. It was something that happened and something they overcame and
that was all they needed to know.
But Hector thought about that
day when she said she was going up to the mountains and his eyes went
straight to the baby in her belly and before he even opened his mouth
Lola knew he was going with her.
Every scenario in his mind these days
ends with her going into labor with no one around. They're still in that
blood-chilling no man's land where if the baby came out now it would
not survive and Lola might not either and the fact that Lola has the
reputation she does means his anxiety is not unfounded. Not even a
little.
This is why no one is all that surprised.
So they're
walking. Lola killed a hare and Hector is carrying it because she has
been carrying their child all this time. She doesn't want to just bring
home one rabbit. His eyes go to the baby again and then he snorts.
"Alright," he says. Puts a hand at the small of Lola's back as the incline steepens. "Let's go kill us a deer."
the hunt
Lola
[Perception 3 + Alertness 2]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
Echoes of the Lost
[perc + alert: "worst uktena ever" specialty]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
the hunt
Hector's
hand has been on and off Lola's back and hip and shoulder throughout
their hike across the mountainside. She is a sturdy woman, always has
been. She's been known by the wolves her and Hector's age as having
left what was supposed to be her future packmates panting in the dust,
needing a rest for a few minutes while she impatiently heckled them to
keep moving. But circumstances being what they were, she didn't huff
and puff going up an incline like this but she did slow, and the hand at
her back helped encourage an even speed. It kept her balanced, on
track, so she didn't proudly refuse him.
That didn't happen much anymore in general, really.
"Before
all this I would've just put us up in one of the trees, but...." She
shrugged, and turned her head to cast a grin back to Hector. Cracking
humor about the pregnancy was her go to effort for easing Hector's
worries about it. Was it effective or well thought out a strategy? No,
not remotely. But she would still squeeze his hand reassuringly when
he stared at her fretfully, brows drawn like they often were.
She
may have continued on, but they both heard something. They probably
both stopped, too-- Lola did at least, standing stock still and upright
to better listen to what she was hearing.
Voices.
She
couldn't make anything out besides that there were voices making
language, quiet and incomprehensible. Hector's ear, much more keen
today, was able to pick up on:
"Shut tha fuck up. You clumsy fuck, how I got stuck with you I don't even..."
It sounded strained and small, like it was coming from someone who was
cartoonishly miniature. Perhaps a dwarf. The answering sounded like it
might be coming from a rock monster, for how deep and heavy and
rumbling the voice answering back was. "So mean..." It sounded sad, wounded by the cruelty of the other.
Echoes of the Lost
The
frequency with which Hector awakens from a nightmare hasn't increased.
It's just that Lola sleeps so lightly now. She awakens at least a couple
times during the night to empty her bladder. When Hector starts out of
sleep and tries to roll over to reclaim it she notices. They don't
happen more than once every few weeks and they do more often when the
moon is near to bursting.
He doesn't like talking about the
nightmares that have to do with the pregnancy and the baby but he'll
tell her that. He doesn't want to talk about it. He just puts a hand
over her midsection and kisses the back of her neck and goes back to
sleep.
Coming up on the crest of the incline now his hand is meant
to help her muscles. He knows so much more about human anatomy and
physiology than he did before. Knows all of the muscles in the pelvic
girdle and their names and how the weight of pregnancy will stretch them
and leave them prone to tearing. Though his medicine bag is at one hip
and the hunting knife is at the other Hector does not want to have to
use either of them today.
He did not want to have to ask his
parents for help either and yet he called home last week. Asked his
mother if she will come out to help when the baby's born. Rina's doctor
was slow to agree to wean her off of the antidepressants and the
anxiolytics but he did agree. They have been weaning her off of them
since January. When she spoke to her son last month some life had
returned to her voice. Hector had her on speakerphone because he was
busy fixing the sink in the kitchen. But he did call. He did ask. Rina
won't be out until the first week in May but at least he knows he has
help coming.
When they hear the sound in the distance Hector
breaths in sharp and puts the hand not supporting her back over her
belly. Lola can see his attention sharpen. His nostrils flare as he
scents the air in his human skin and his hand moves with the baby. Like
to reassure her. He doesn't believe he's going to be a good father but
everyone else knows he is.
"Shh," he says. Not to the baby but to Lola. In a whisper: "Don't move."
the hunt
When
Cassandra had visited in the month of March, Lola had been diplomatic
(for her), but firm in her conclusion that she would be fine with no one
but Hector nearby to support her in birthing their child. She did not
yell or lash out in reflexive self-defense when Cassandra had tried to
get her to reconsider, and she wasn't icy or purposefully evasive for
the rest of the time that the eldest Ghosh sibling had visited. Even
when Tamsin had come by later to explain that Hector shouldn't even be
around in the first place, Lola patiently shook her head and disagreed.
Had conceded to consider at most but didn't really mean it.
Lola
didn't listen, but Hector did. And, thankfully, Lola would listen to
Hector at least long enough to hear him out. He was worried. He didn't
want to take chances. He named five new gray hairs for her, then said
he wanted to reach out to his mother. She had frowned upon the idea at
first, did not initially agree. But, some days and a few conversations
later, she was in agreement. They'd called Rina, she suspected the baby
would come as soon as May (and all expression had drained from Lola's
face at that conclusion) and that she would simply spend the month with
them to be safe.
This was part of why Lola wanted to go out
hunting. She wanted to freely get away and do these things and stretch
her limbs while she had the chance. She was concerned about how the
dynamic of freedom and respect of space would exist still with a parent
of her generation back in the house.
Hector was right to be
protective and suspicious and come along with. He heard voices, strange
and upset. They were probably about 30 feet away, forward and to the
left up the mountainside. Probably somewhere up above where the land
leveled out more. He moved his hand to rest overtop of Lola's stomach,
which over the past month had changed from being obviously pregnant to
now being heavily so. She already looked uncomfortable, and the baby
moved with health and vigor. Even under Hector's palm and the sudden
stop the baby rolled. The shielding hand followed. Lola stilled, not
too proud to stop Hector from shifting to stand protectively before her.
He
urged her not to move, and she was silent. Her feet were perfectly
still-- her arms were not, though. She was moving one to reach toward
her quiver for an arrow. Slow, careful.
In the meantime, up ahead, the low and hushed voices continued for Hector to make-out and Lola only to kind of hear.
"--otherwise we're screwed, you got it? Yeah?" -- "Yea...." -- "Alright. Now eat quick and quiet, we got a job to do."
Echoes of the Lost
Hector
doesn't go pale with what he hears but he has been in a state of
heightened anxiety ever since the flank-attack of the book's information
and his mother's approximation confirming that they are in the third
trimester. Not constantly pale. Most of the time Hector is within
earshot of Lola and can relax a little.
Now he's standing right
next to her and he doesn't look like he's going to faint from the stress
of this. He scents the air again and then his hand leaves her back.
"Stay here." Still in a low voice. Not in a Stay Out Of This voice. Just a Stay Back voice. "I'm gonna check it out."
Him and Fog. They are nearly always together.
Echoes of the Lost
[dex + stealth: SO STEALTHY. +1 because fog.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 3 )
the hunt
Jethro
[Perception 2 + Alertness 1]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )
the hunt
Matthew
[Perception 3 + Alertness 3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
the hunt
Stay
here, he says. There was a time that Lola would have utterly
disregarded this. She did once before with Javed, a Fostern Ahroun who
had a better idea of how to handle battle than anyone else. He'd told
her to stay back and had threatened to wrap a metal car around her to
keep her put if she didn't listen. She'd nearly spat in his face then,
and barely didn't thanks to battlefield respect.
Around that time she would have scoffed and continued alongside Hector. For now, though, she listened and stayed back.
But
with an arrow now gently-quietly loosed from the quiver, she aligned
the ancient ammunition in its weapon and held the two together and
ready. Just in case.
Meanwhile, Hector continues on ahead,
leaving Lola back to protect herself and their unborn while he scoped
things out. He was quiet and careful, moved steady and slow and soft
like the rolling mist of his Totem would. His feet were sure of where
they stepped, cautious of old discards of dead leaves and twigs unveiled
from snows that have finally melted with the passing of winter.
He
gets to where the incline flattens out into a gentler plane. Through
the trees, up ahead by a couple dozen feet, he can see three shapes.
One is a dead deer, on its side. The other two are drastically
different, one about the size of a gorilla and not to different in build
from this angle, but with angry red skin instead of fur. Its head was
hidden, as it was leaned forward eating from the deer's belly.
Initially
only the small flurry of matted gray movement at the thing's side
indicated the existence of another, but all at once it stilled and stood
up, the motion very similar to a meerkat whose guard was triggered. It
had a flat face with a wide sharp mouth, and bright yellow eyes even
from this distance for they too were large and wide -- kind of like a
junkyard cheshire cat. It was about four feet tall and covered in gray
fur, with a T-shirt and jeans clinging in rags anyways. Red blood
smeared greasy down it's mouth and chin and onto the collar of its
shirt.
"Shh-shh-shutup. I think I heard something."
Echoes of the Lost
[sense wyrm! -1 diff because fog.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9) ( success x 3 )
Echoes of the Lost
One
day Lola isn't going to be pregnant and she can run off into battle
just as fast as she pleases and Hector won't exactly be thrilled by the
prospects but he'll respect that that is what she was born and raised to
do. That she is willing to do it even if her eagerness scares him
sometimes. That was what attracted him to her in the first place once he
got past her feral nature and the fear he felt that she might relieve
him of a part of his body if provoked.
If anything ever happened
to her Hector believes he would not live long after. Look at his dreams.
Just before he wakes up he's covered in blood and screaming not
terrified screams but war screams. Spiral screams. The sort of screams
that means he's eaten of dead flesh and bathed in the blood of the
packmates he's killed.
Hector is stronger than he gives himself
credit for. But he still doesn't relish the thought that Lola has a
better chance of dying in combat than he does.
He creeps up to the top of the incline and what he sees doesn't make his jaw drop but it does give him a what the fuck pause. Okay. Two corrupted creatures eating a deer. Must be another beautiful day in Denver.
The little one thinks it heard something.
Hector springs to his feet and makes as much noise as he can as he goes tearing ass the thirty feet back towards Lola.
the hunt
Somewhere
twenty feet ahead of them, a man with a wild mane of hair sprang up
with an explosion of sound and started running away. The fuzzy little
thing with the sharp smile and the scolding mean voice pointed and
called out to its companion: "Go after him!"
The big red thing,
like a human man with muscles swollen impossibly and hands and feet gone
large and square looked up. He had no hair for his head or body
anymore, and wore only a pair of roughly stitched canvas pants. He too
had blood on his mouth and chest, but this was less apparent especially
from a distance. He picked up what looked like a very simple polearm
(no, shit, it's a harvesting scythe from someone's shed-- who even uses
those things anymore??), rose to his feet, and started barreling after
Hector. Slow and heavy, but probably very hard to slow down.
The
little gray thing took off after Hector as well, but it was much
faster. Hector ran fast on his long legs, and this thing was able to
keep up even though it was much closer to the ground. It galloped on
all fours through the brush.
When Hector came over the edge and
back down the incline, he'd find that Lola had positioned herself
standing braced against a tree that was growing upright out of the
hillside-- using it to balance herself so she could focus more on her
aim. The arrow in her bow was drawn tight, but she wasn't so
trigger-fingered that it flew at Hector when he burst over the edge.
She'd wait for the next.
the hunt
[Inits!]
the hunt
Lola
[Dexterity 3 + Wits 3 + ?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
the hunt
Jethro
[Dexterity 3 + Wits 2]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
the hunt
Matthew
[Dexterity 4 + Wits 3 + ?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Echoes of the Lost
[oh crap +7]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )
the hunt
Declare in Reverse Order!
Hector - 16
Lola - 15
Matthew - 13
Jethro - 10
Jethro: Scythe at Hector
Matthew: Claws at Hector
the hunt
Lola: Shoot arrow at Jethro! Called shot-- throat [WP]
Echoes of the Lost
-1R: snap-shift to crinos
1:
R1:
R2: claw Jethro, switching to Matthew if he goes down
Echoes of the Lost
[dex + brawl: CLAW]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )
Echoes of the Lost
[+1]
Dice: 9 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 5, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
the hunt
Jethro
[Soak]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
the hunt
Lola
[Dexterity 3 + Athletics 3, diff 8 for called shot]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 5, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
the hunt
Lola
[Damage (Lethal): Base 5 + 2 suxx, + 2 called shot bonus]
Dice: 9 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 9) ( success x 1 )
the hunt
Jethro
[Puny Human! Soak]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
the hunt
Most
Wolves would bolt in the direction opposite the Kinfolk after drawing
the attention of the enemy onto themselves. Hector could tell they were
of the Wyrm. He was seasoned, and he was knowledgeable-- Uktena have
always been of the philosophy that the best way to defeat the enemy is
to understand it. He could recognize Fomori when he saw them. He knew
they had to be put down, so he lured them in.
Lola Hawkes was no
ordinary Kinfolk. Her name carried with it the weight of capability in
battle. Hector could doom himself to death by taking off to fight these
things on his own. Leading them back to Lola, practiced with her bow,
was to lead them into a trap.
Over the crest of the hill Hector
leaped and traveled a few more feet before erupting into his Crinos
body, a wolf whose pelt was all the colors of one whose blood had
mingled over generations. He waited for the first sign of movement from
the big red one, knowing the giant muscled thing with the long-armed
blade weapon to be the biggest threat, and flashed claws as soon as he
saw him.
Unfortunately, the claws only barely scratched skin. The
beast was resistant even to supernatural elements, like the claws of a
Garou. His eyes, painfully human looking and drastically blue in
contrast to the color of the skin around them, looked down at the
werewolf on the hillside below him and frowned as though his feelings
were hurt and not his skin.
The same look was cast toward Lola
when an arrow whistled in through the trees and shadows and hit him in
the neck. Hit-- not struck. By some freak twist of timing and luck
he'd turned his head and shifted his stance in just a way that the arrow
merely deflected off the thick muscle of his neck rather than piercing.
It
was at this point that the fuzzy little gray one could be noticed
standing at the top of the hill a few feet from its partner, one clawed
hand (wicked, hooked black things) on the trunk of a tree. He looked in
alarm at Hector, surprised more than zealed to battle, and then shifted
his attention instead down to Lola, further down the hillside.
Eyes
lit up. That cheshire smile went sharper, wider, curling impossibly so
that the little monster's mouth seemed to reach his tufted ears.
He turned toward Hector and inhaled impossibly deep.
[Changing Actions -- Roar of the Wyrm: Charisma 3 + Intimidation 2, +1 diff]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (3, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Echoes of the Lost
[resist?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )
the hunt
Lola
[Willpower 5]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
the hunt
Jethro
[Scythe -- Dexterity 3 + Melee 2]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (3, 4, 5, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
the hunt
Jethro
[Damage (Lethal): Strength 4 + 3 Weapon Bonus + 1 Suxx]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Echoes of the Lost
[did a window just blow open?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 3 )
Echoes of the Lost
BEAST MODE TIME
R1: claw Jethro
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )
Echoes of the Lost
[+4]
Dice: 12 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )
the hunt
Jethro
[So mean... Soak!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 9) ( success x 2 )
Echoes of the Lost
R2: SO MEAN -2 diff to hit because he's stunned :(
Dice: 8 d10 TN4 (1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 6 )
Echoes of the Lost
[+5]
Dice: 13 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 8 )
the hunt
Jethro
[Lawl]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )
the hunt
[Jethro is deceased!]
the hunt
Round 2!
Matthew
[Init: Dex 4 + Wits 3 + ?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
Echoes of the Lost
[R-R-R-REROLL +8]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
the hunt
Lola
[Init: Dex 3 + Wits 3 +?]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
the hunt
Round 2! Fight! (Declare in reverse order)
Matthew - 15
Hector - 10
Lola - 8
Lola: Splitting Actions -- Reload, then Fire Arrow!
Echoes of the Lost
1: sweep Matthew's legs
R1:
R2: claw time
the hunt
Matthew
[Jaw Lock on Lola: Dexterity 4 + Brawl 2 -- Be my hostage, I don't wanna die!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 3, 3, 3, 7, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Echoes of the Lost
dex + athletics: WOOSH WE'RE NOT GOING TO THE HOSPITAL TODAY
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7) ( success x 1 )
the hunt
Matthew
Holly Shit, You Jawlocked A Werewolf: Strength 3 + Athletics 3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )
Echoes of the Lost
lololol
Dice: 9 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Echoes of the Lost
[frenzy check just for shits and/or giggles]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 3, 3, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )
the hunt
Matthew
[Well, failing that... Damage (Aggravated): Strength 3 + 2 Suxx + 1 Bite]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 6, 6, 9) ( success x 3 )
Echoes of the Lost
[ow!!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
the hunt
Lola
Automatic Action: Reload!
Split Action: Dexterity 3 + Athetlics 3, -3 split]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 7, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
the hunt
Lola
Damage (Lethal): Base 5 + 2 suxx]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6) ( success x 1 )
the hunt
Matthew
Soak!
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Echoes of the Lost
BEAST MODE
R1: claw!
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 7 )
Echoes of the Lost
[+6]
Dice: 14 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )
the hunt
Matthew
Stunned. The poor man never got to soak Aggravated.
Echoes of the Lost
R2: claw -2 diff because the furry little bastard is stunned
Dice: 8 d10 TN4 (1, 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 6 )
Echoes of the Lost
[+5]
Dice: 13 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 8 )
the hunt
Battle
used to drag out over days, sometimes even weeks. This was back in the
old days, when people were afforded armies. When the Veil didn't need
to be so heavy, so much like iron, that their battles could not scope
such space. They had to start shifting into the Umbra. And then the
armies shrank. And shrank.
Then Battles stopped, replaced instead
by a long drought of holding and defending lands rather than really
trying to reclaim those lost.
This was no battle, not really. It was more of a skirmish, and that is why it ended so quickly.
That, and Hector Ghosh.
His
mate, despite her desire to be and renown as a battlemaiden, was not
yet effective enough with the bow to have been of any use. This battle
was won by Hector's claws. The man with red skin and pitiful blue eyes
was laid down, his belly opened and insides spilled by a few hard rakes
of Hector's claws.
The little gray furry one in the tattered and
bloodstained pants and clothes looked in a panic. He looked over to
Lola and glanced briefly to Hector again, then lunged for the Kinfolk.
Hector saw what was happening-- the little fuck was going to try to
threaten his woman and child to barter his own escape. Echoes of the
Lost would have none of that, and he threw himself in the creature's
path instead. Wide, intelligent yellow eyes locked on Hector's in a
panic-- not mad, astoundingly, not sick, but full of cruel reason
instead. He tried to bury his teeth into Hector's throat when he
realized he couldn't outmuscle the wolf even for a second, but the
Uktena Galliard's pelt and skin were tough. He was just so much bigger
than this tiny, dense little monster.
Again, two quick slashes of
his claws. He'd ripped the poor thing to bits. Into thirds, mostly,
but those pieces weren't especially intact and it's never quite that
clean.
Birds were still crying and stirring and fleeing, but they
were high in the sky and further across the trees now, quieter and
distant. Lola was too taken away by what she'd just seen Hector do to
be mad at herself for her own ineffectiveness. She stepped forward and
touched the side of Hector's back, looking over the scene.
"God damn."
Echoes of the Lost
Lola
knows he would have thrown himself between danger and her even if she
weren't heavily pregnant. She's still learning how to use the bow he
crafted for her and she cannot shrug off injuries the way that Garou
can. Cannot let hits roll away the way water rolls off of a fowl's back.
Yet
the fact remains that if he had not thrown himself at the creatures her
shots would not have been effective. They had no stopping power. This
is something Lola is going to have to practice. Hector might joke one
day that if she's going to be pregnant another time or four she can't be
shooting guns all the time anyway. Bad for the baby's ears.
Overhead
the winged creatures of the mountains take to the sky and Echoes of the
Lost stands with his claws dripping blood and his eyes flashing like to
try and find the next target. In his war form he loses his reason and
his mercy.
So he stands like this and he listens and he smells.
Lets his woman touch his flank and it centers him. Lets him know there's
nothing else out there he has to worry about and then he shrinks back
down into his human skin. Clothing dedicated did not rip and his rings
and necklaces are all still there but his hands are stained with the
blood of the creatures he killed.
And he stood right in front of
her the whole time and knows she was not hurt but he wheels around
anyway to get a good look at her. Doesn't put his hands on her because
they're filthy but he looks at her he with his Rage near-spent and she
more tired than she was when they got up here. No blood on his chest.
Some sprayed across his face.
"You okay?" he asks.
the hunt
There's
a moment, while Lola stands with her fingers in Hector's fur looking at
the aftermath, that she seems to be glimpsing back to the ancient
purpose of Kinfolk. Being able to lay that human hand against the
Werewolf's fur, or alternately being able to rub your wolf flank against
the shivering naked side of a wolf-turned-man. To bring back from the
battle and refocus from the fight.
Hector shrank back down, fur
retreated into clothing and Lola dropped her hand and moved a step
back. Her eyes already started hunting for her arrows-- may as well
retrieve them, no need to be wasteful. When he turned around to look
her over, hands out like he wanted to touch and check tangibly as well
but was too mindful of the mess of blood and viscera that he'd be
smearing all over her clothes and cheeks if he tried.
"I'm fine,"
she assured him. He knew that already, and to look her over the same
was confirmed. The only blood she had on her was small amounts from
being too near when Hector as ripping once-sly-now-dead Matthew apart.
He looked exhausted and she sounded much the same when she gestured to the scene left behind.
"Can't just leave this. I suppose there's gotta be a cave or cliff or something around here."
Echoes of the Lost
If
he were a spirit-talker he could summon scavengers to come and pick the
bones clean before casting them into the water. As it is their corpses
reek of corruption. As their spirits drift off into the Umbra he has to
stop and wonder if they're going to come back. That's always something
he worries about when he worries about Fomori. Most of them die Bane and
host both when the body dies but you hear stories.
All they have
are stories. One day their race will be extinct and all of their stories
will die along with them but until then warriors who fought a thousand
years ago live on. In a thousand years maybe he and Lola will still be
alive. He would be happy for a thousand days. For time enough to carve
out a life with the woman who isn't afraid to stand beside him when he's
eight feet tall and breathing heavy enough to kill the next thing come
into his sight.
He walks forward and starts to gather up the pieces.
"I
got it," he says. "Unless you want one of the arms. I don't think the
book said anything about not picking up severed monster arms."
the hunt
There
are always stories of what happens when something dies. The darker,
more paranoid stories-- the ones that they really did have to worry
about, were the ones concerning what happened when the enemy died.
There were whispers of the spirits of Fomori continuing on in the Umbra
or perhaps moving on to possess something different. There were known
things, phantasms, that were precisely that-- wicked spirits of slain
Fomori still latching on to man-made things and animating them to
fight. Not unlike the spirit that Hector invited back to the Cold
Crescent building, but far more wicked.
For this, they can only hope that the death was full as it often is.
Hector
offered her the task of carrying lightweight limbs, like arms, and Lola
just smirked and started to help gather up parts. They'd find a
crumbling short cliff with gravel and rocks accumulated from many
rockslides over time. This would be a good place to hide evidence from
hikers. They certainly couldn't transport these things in the Forester,
after all.
To help explain the blood on them, Lola suggested they
bring back the deer that the two monsters had been eating. It would be
useless to them, of course. They wouldn't eat from the same carcass
that Wyrm beasts had torn into earlier. Lola was too proud to play
hyena to a Fomor's lion. Good thing, too, because about a quarter of
the way home they were pulled over because some trooper decided they
needed to see Lola's hunting license (and yes, she's bothered to get
one).
Once home, either Hector or Lola will drag out the burning
barrel and break down the deer carcass for disposal. No sense in
leaving tainted meat on their land.
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