Strangers Like Me (Sama'el and Co.)

[Colt]

85th of Summer, 512 AV the everpresent breeze washed over Cyphrus, clouds swathing the plains in shadow and bringing long-due relief from the sun that had been so lacking in the recent past. Summer had run its course, and though it was still gasping its last breaths fall had already spread its influence over the land. Overcast days were more frequent, the sun felt less hot and the wind was cool, animals were more restless and active as the dog days come to a close, anxious to stretch their wings as the world prepared for the season of harvest, when all creatures became fat and plump before winter arrived. High noon had passed and Syna was descending, yet heat still blanketed the land. Herds of antelope foraged in the grass, indifferent to the predator that lay sprawled on the flat boulder. He had hunted and fed today and had no reason or intention to do so again, and his easy posture inspired confidence in whatever meek creature wished to feed nearby. There would be peace today. The hunter lay upon the warm stone, not quite asleep but neither fully awake. He was half-twisted upon the warm rock, hindquarters on their side and forequarters vertical, head resting on his crossed forelegs as he regarded the land with a lazy and contented gaze. He was by no means a large or powerful creature, but he was undoubtedly one of the smartest. He knew the savannah like no other, completely aware of everything that grew, walked or soared here and blended with them fluidly. He knew about the roaming lion pride, where they moved and when he could enter their territory. He knew about the hyena clan that warred with the pride, knew the habits of the she-leopard slumbering in the nearby tree and where the herd of giraffes liked to browse. He knew all this and more; small things garnered his attention that would have passed by lesser animals, and he took them in and organized them and learned from them. Which was why, when a flock of rooks leaped into the air, screaming in annoyance, that he knew something was wrong. As the corvids began to circle, loudly vocalizing their displeasure, he slipped lightly from the rock to his feet and took up an easy lope in their direction. They had alighted towards the southeast, meaning that the disturbance had come from the northwest, and there were no cries of a dying animal not of a feeding killer, and he knew the area well enough to remember that there was no stream, no trees, dens or anything to startle a flock of birds. Prey stayed away because there was nothing to eat, and in turn predator had no business there either. He neared and changed his course east. If he swung a wide circle then he would be able to pick up a trail if the culprit was an animal, and if he found nothing then he would investigate directly. The trail was no difficulty to spot. It had been made by something large, possible several somethings. The hunter crouched, eyes hovering over the path that had been trodden through the golden grass. Giraffe? No, not quite. Zebra? A bit too large. Horse, then, but… the horse was too heavy, imprints far too deep for its size. Was it overweight? Sick? Pregnant? The hunter dwelled on the tracks for twenty heartbeats before curiosity got the better of him, and after a slight hesitation he descended into a crouch and began to stalk his quarry.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Most people would never notice they were being watched by a spirit astrally projected and walking the Web; it was said some could, though, who were not initiated into its distinctive energies. Sama'el was there for a moment, the slightest brightening of the sunshower, hardly anything at all. But he was a man of the Watch, and he had found a Drykas. Then, quick as thought, he moved on. His soul could range for about five hundred miles from his body, about a full day's gallop away on a healthy Strider. Someday, perhaps, he would have the range of a Master, and would know what was happening halfway across the continent so long as the Web was intact... But his ranging came to an end, and his body tingled with the sudden return of his soul. Dohaina was in Endrykas playing herd mother; today he rode Bigarren, training the big stallion to work with a Watchman. The smart beast stood still in the dappling shade of a tree as the man upon his back straightened. He whickered a greeting -- the Striders, walkers of the Web themselves -- always seemed to know when Sama'el was there or gone, whether by the movements of his body or a deeper sense of spirit. "Good man," he said, patting the stallion's neck. He hadn't returned to his body face in the dirt in a while now. The beast was learning. But the easiest way for him to reclaim his body was to use it, and so they were quickly galloping toward the napping horseman. It was an easy ride, and his year or so on the Watch had made him more familiar with the entire region than many. But the sunning rock was empty, and he turned his eyes hither and thither, autumnal breezes whipping his braided hair about. Nothing was necessarily wrong, but the Sea of Grass was a dangerous place, and it was his job to be paranoid. He found possible signs of passage at the edge of the rocks, and made an educated guess, murmuring a prayer to Syna as he invoked Her grace, launching his sight up toward the sun to stare down from above until he found the stalking hunter. Inavalti was different from web-walking in many ways, and he rarely felt disoriented using it, perhaps due to the fact that it was a gift from a goddess. He quickly dismounted, gave Bigarren a more complex order: to guard the rocks, but should he be overwhelmed, make all due speed to Sama'el's side. He checked his blades, loosed them in their sheaths and scabbard, but he prepared his shortbow, nocking an arrow even as he hurried after the Drykas. When he drew close enough, his speed slowed, and his stealth became more important. It was, perhaps, cheating the way he found the hunter, but once he found him, he gave a whistling birdcall that any Drykas would recognize as an annunciation of a Watchman. He was not alone in this.

[Khida]

Khida took refuge from the afternoon heat by retreating to the high air, a dark shape far removed from the grassy landscape below. At altitude, cool moving air countered the sun's radiance, reducing its intensity to a pleasant warmth -- all the more so now that summer's height had passed, and the season was soon to turn. She had some thought that it would be nice to see fall come to lands not desert; different, at the least, and she was curious to see how different it would be. In the meantime, though, she took every advantage of a late summer thermal rising from the warmed earth below, wings outstretched to their fullest extent to best catch its energy. The falcon turned slow circles on the twisting column, just about as lazy and content as her partner basking on stone below, keen gaze surveying the vast expanse of the grasslands with only a distant and detatched interest. Until the peace below was abruptly shattered, that is. The falcon banked out of the thermal, coming around to bring the flock of rooks into view. They weren't out to mob her, and in the first moment, that was all she cared to determine; having fed well earlier in the day, she had no need to scout for more opportunities. But then she caught sight of the man rising from his rest, clearly intent upon investigating the disturbance. Perhaps it merited more attention, then; maybe especially from the point of view of one wingless. Accordingly, she abandoned her thermal altogether, trading altitude for a bit more speed as she came about on a line to overfly the man's sunning rocks and join him on the far side. The horse, the rider -- Khida saw them, but thought little of them at first. She had seen others, after all -- not here, but in her springtime travels, and in the seasons before that; their passing-through wasn't something she normally paid much heed to, as they had nothing for her. But this one looked at the sunning rocks in a way she didn't like, stalked after her human all too much as a hunter would -- and carried an arrow ready on his bow. That, she didn't care for at all. chik-chik-chik-chik The peregrine pivoted again, circling above the stranger and voicing a series of strident chirps -- not an alarm so much as a warn-away: you are not welcome here. She didn't dive to harass him -- with that bow in his hand, she hoped she wouldn't need to -- but continued to maintain her position overhead.

[Colt]

The trail was fresh, disconcertingly so. The hunter crouched by the heavy hoofprints, ears perked in case whatever had passed through was still lurking. The prints were paced widely, indicating that the horse had been at a full gallop despite its apparent overweight. Though he scanned the surrounding area he found no sign of hide or hair of anything resembling a herd or even of a single companion. The beast appeared to be completely alone, confusing him farther. There was no sign of a pursuer that the horse might have been fleeing from or of a struggle of any kind. He settled onto his haunches, mulling over the strange tracks, but was prevented from reaching a conclusion. A familiar call rang from above, startling him. He flicked his gaze heavenward and caught sight of the black form against the sky, and though the sight of the she-falcon usually lifted his spirits her agitated circling warned him to caution. Something was wrong. He quickly took note of how she was flying; where she turned, when she cried out, where she flapped and showed her belly. She was outlining the location of the threat itself, and it was far too close for his comfort. He slid from his squat into a feral crouch, keeping his head and shoulders low as he bared his teeth threateningly at the undergrowth behind him. The grassy curtain shielded his stalker, but he trusted the raptor enough to know that she wouldn’t display such anxiousness without reason. He was defenseless; he had no tools, no weapon if he was attacked. His stalker could be anything, could have claws and teeth or talons and a beak. Though he understood the bird a large amount of the time, many of the specifics were left to assumption and inference, and he could take no chances. He sprang into a sprint straight towards where the falconess was indicating, clawing through the grass barely fast enough to see in front of his nose. If he could startle it then it might give him enough of a pause to get to safety, or at least to find something resembling a weapon. The curtain parted and he came face to face with his stalker. He quickly assessed it and took in everything he saw to sort through later, unable to stomach too much thinking in the heat of the moment. All that mattered right now was escaping. He tried to get as close as he possibly could, crowding his stalker with a bellow and snapping his teeth at it. He made no physical contact, but he waved his arms around its head with some more yips and yowls before spurting back into the grass. His feet pounded the ground as he fell into a flat run, trying to put as much distance between him and his stalker as quickly as possible.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Apparently, his signal birdcall was lost upon the man, who had the look of a Drykas. This was strange. But the birdcall managed to attract a falcon, and the falcon did not seem pleased to see him. In fact, it was displaying behavior something like he had seen the raptors of Taldera exhibit when he had ventured too near an aerie. He posited then that this was a female falcon. But she was giving away his position, and though the man couldn't see him yet, he came charging. His own reaction was instinct, arrow drawn back and aimed between the man's eyes. If he came too close in such a threatening manner, Sama'el would not be the one to die. But then the man fled, and Sama'el gaped after him for only a moment before swinging his aim toward the territorial bird. But Sama'el was not alone, and soon the falcon was buzzed by a stooping kestrel, his fierce little Hodei, who didn't attack, but warned the larger falcon off. He grinned for a moment, wishing Raiha could see how well he and the raptor had learned to work together, but then he stuck the arrow back in his quiver and began to pelt after the stranger. It was possible he was simple, which meant he would need Sama'el's help and protection all the more. "Stop!" he called after the man in strident Pavi. "I'm a Watchman!" And that should make any Drykas feel safer; the Watch were honor- and oath-bound to protect their people. Now he wished he hadn't left Bigarren at the man's camp. He put on as much speed as he could, trailing the man. Though he occasionally lost sight of him now, the path he left was easy to track, grasses trampled and divots in the barer earth. So much for stealth.

[Khida]

The falcon's call quieted as her partner charged forward; she watched closely as they met, and as her partner sprinted away once more. She hung in the air as the strange hunter turned his attention upwards, and the nocked arrow with it -- but he didn't fire, and Khida felt a moment's relief. But only a moment, as another falcon demonstrated its own partisanship in the matter. The peregrine beat her wings and glanced towards the agile little kestrel as it came back up. The stranger below her padded into the grasslands, and if a nest had underlied her concern, she would have been content to leave him and his bird to their business, taking the warning given -- but it didn't, and the stranger remained hard on the track of her partner. So much for warning anyone off. His words had no meaning for her; only the stranger's continued pursuit, even if he had put the arrow away. The falcon saw that as to their advantage, in fact. She dove down at the stranger, trying to startle him with the flickering closeness of her wings, the loudness of her shrieks, even a raking pass of talons. More so on the side where his hand was empty, in an attempt to forestall him from drawing another arrow. Her calls now held not warning, but alarm -- the message to her partner that he was followed still.

[Colt]

His pursuer made a curious sound that he couldn’t identify, best described as a sharp and clear series of barks though nothing could be exact. An apprehension filled him when they reached his ears, but he was too far and the wind rushing past him was too loud to allow any recognition of the words, even though his gut told him that it was no ordinary warcall. He burst back into the clearing with the sunning rock, causing a horse to shy away. He yelped angrily and veered away, knowledge and thoughts long forgotten awakening within him. The horse could bear rider, a concept that would have been foreign to him before today. He could never outrun the animal, and so he dashed away to get as much of a headstart as he could. The calls rang over the plains once more, and he turned to look over his shoulder to their source. The falconess was screaming and fluttering over a dark shape in the grass, far to close than was possibly safe. “Ke-ke-ke-ke-ke-ke-ke!” He rarely called after the morning had faded, but now he wanted the falcon close and out of harm’s way. The land of the savannah rose ahead of him, and he realized with a jolt that he had been running for the crack in the wall. He had been leading his stalker to his home. He threw himself to the left to change course, calling for the falcon a second time. He wasn’t overly familiar with the crater’s outer rim, but he had explored there before and knew that a horse would have extreme difficulty following him over the rocky crags and cliffs. The golden grass began to thin as dirt gave way to jagged stone, and as the ground began to slope upwards he scrambled onto a large pile of boulders. Perching at the peak, the hunter surveyed the plains. He was in an opportune position, able to leap and descend onto anything that got too close. The appearance of the stalker buzzed in his mind, but he couldn’t acknowledge it. It was too similar to his own, so familiar that it was alien. It would distract him from the task at hand: he and his were under thread, and it was his duty to defend.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

The falcon's descent was heralded by its screams and wingbeats, warning enough for him to twist, sending a blast of Fire to warn the creature off. Hodei was only half the falcon's size, but flew ahead to guard Bigarren from the strange man, hovering over him even after the wild man had bolted off in a new direction. Free from the falcon's harrying pursuit, Sama'el ran ahead toward his animal companions, slinging his bow over his shoulder as he ran, the better manage a running mount. He called a warning to Bigarren, who stood suddenly still, anticipating the oft-practiced maneuver. Sama'el leaped, planted his hands on Bigarren's croup for a bit of lift, and landed in the yvas. As soon as the stallion felt his weight settle, he took off after the wild man with a speed that no horse could match outside the Sea of Grass. Little Hodei couldn't keep up, but she beat furiously at the air for elevation to keep a fierce eye on things from above. Sama'el and the stallion passed over the grasses like Zulrav's own wind, but eddied to a stop when they drew closer and he could see the wild man above. He had no weapons in hand, and instead raised one in a greeting. He wasn't sure why the man wasn't responding, but it was important to develop some rapport, to start communicating. This place was new to him, and he wasn't about to go chasing him into unfamiliar territory, especially since he had no wish to hurt him.

[Khida]

She hadn't expected that. Heat from the fireburst washed over her as the falcon instinctively shied away, wings flaring to break and bank. She put horizontal distance between herself and the stranger first, wingtips brushing the grass-tops with each downbeat; then climbed upwards, adding three dimensions to their separation. He seemed to have no further thought for her, as he ran for his horse -- and Khida couldn't say she was bothered by that, not at all. She reflected on the fire's sudden appearance instead, its arising from nothing -- but her partner's summons interrupted those thoughts. His second summons, the first having passed unnoticed. The falcon swung around towards him, seeing that the stranger and his mount now ran for the rocky slope where he waited. Khida shed the altitude she had so recently worked to gain, swooping down to land on a jutting stone some ways above and behind her partner. She adjusted her grip on the outcrop until she felt comfortably secure, feathers fluffed out as she glowered down towards the stranger.

[Colt]

The hunter tensed at the horse and rider as they approached, but regained some small bit of ease when a dark form slid by, banking and coming to rest on a jagged irregularity in the wall of their home. Her feathers were ruffled in anger and the glare that he had come to fear was directed at their pursuer as it—no, he—came to a halt as they neared the boulders. His mind automatically separated the creature and the horse beneath him, acknowledging that they were two different entities. Now that he could properly gaze at his stalker, there was little doubt; they were the same. Two legs, spider-like front paws, a mane atop the head. Their dress was vaguely similar; though the wild man’s pants had been worn and torn so that they were little more than a loincloth. The strange stick and string—a weapon, he somehow knew—was no longer in the foreigner’s hand. Nevertheless, the feral man kept his frame tensed and his lip curled threateningly, prepared to fight or flee again at a heartbeat’s notice. And it all faded when the foreigner raised his hand. Knowledge once again presented itself unbidden, and he knew without a doubt that it was a greeting. The snarl disappeared into a simple frown. What was this creature that could elicit such thoughts? Information did not just appear, it had to be learned. And so how had he known that the stick and string was a weapon(a weapon called a bow, even?) Or that the horse and rider were two separate beings? Or now that this thing, whatever it was, was called a human? Something was very, very wrong. His snarl had faded into a completely expressionless look on his face, masking the whirlwind within his head. He blinked at the man blankly, making no response to the gesture of greeting. He was still, not a muscle twitching as he crouched on his perch and peered emotionlessly down at the rider.