Flashback The Duties of a Patrol [Tinnok]

[Ayatah]

“Swap watches and start preparing camp, we’re going to want a perimeter set up in case we get any guests, alright?”

The words were ones that Ayatah had been waiting all day for, and as soon as Imalla had walked away, she slung her long bow off her shoulder and sighed deeply. Her back ached, her shoulders ached… It had been a month since Ayatah had stood within the army ranks, and the tenderness in her muscles showed it. After cracking her neck and stretching her long arms and legs, she turned to the next task.

It didn’t take long to get a fire going, and soon thick grey smoke was billowing upwards and beyond the jungle canopy. Ayatah sat beside the fire, appreciating the dry heat the flames threw out. The sky was darkening, and with it would come the nightlife of the Falynder Jungle… And perhaps a Dhani ambush.

The sound of people approaching made the patrolling Myrians turn around in unison, like one body of at-the-ready machines. Ayatah was on her feet before she had truly realised why, dagger in hand and eyes wary. Two bodies were making their way through the murky greens, and it was not until they had come into clear view that the patrollers lowered their weapons.

Tinnok and Bennik.

There was a unanimous, disappointed sigh from the rest of the Myrians; they had been eager and readying themselves for a fight. People are always too quick to lust for blood, Ayatah thought as she noticed numerous eye rolls from her comrades, they forget that death can effect us as much as the enemy. Ayatah had never lost a close friend or relative in battle, but she had seen some of her fellow recruits die during her own service in the army. There was something entirely different in seeing an acquaintance die, as opposed to an animal or foe. Myrians were fierce and talented in battle, but they were not invincible; and the thought very often played on Ayatah’s mind before she leapt into combat.

The tense atmosphere returned as quickly as it had disappeared, with people stopping to listen for sounds of more people closing in on them.

“So what’s all the fuss about?”

”We found an arrow in a pig - and not one of ours.” Her voice was low and quiet. Even though they were now off duty, loud chatter and laughter would not be tolerated. Especially with the risk of a Dhani ambush. ”Did you see anything on your scout?”

Bennik had joined the women by now, and sat on the other side of Ayatah. He too began to skin his kills, and handed his cousin a small feathered body. She began plucking it instantly before she had even investigated what exactly he had killed. Her hands worked methodically and quickly, pulling the downy feathers away from the bird’s pasty white skin. It did not take long before the creature was plucked and naked on her lap, at which pointed Ayatah took the bird’s neck in her hands and twisted it. There was a gruesome crack, and the head flopped sideways unnaturally.

There was something sickeningly rewarding about preparing poultry….

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

”Petch!” Tinnok swore as she near ruined the ocelot’s pelt, slashing unevenly through the flesh that split the whole pelt nigh in half. Well, so much for selling it. She cut wide swathes of meat off the bone, picking up a few slender sticks from the pile of wood and sliding the strips down their length before sitting them at an angle over the flames. Next came the peccary, of which she took her time with. The skin of the beast was not as supple as the cats, but it could still be used in leather making. She cut away from the head and legs first, then slide her blade beneath the flesh as she slid it to outline the creature. She smirked as Ayatah plucked the bird, it would be good eating for all, especially with the dried rations they had all brought. The idea of an ambush, though, was not as comforting as the thought of food in her stomach, anything that implied they might be at a disadvantage left Tinnok uneasy. ”We didn’t see anything save the tracks of the creatures we hunted, you think the Dhani would be foolish enough to attack?”

Tin glanced around as darkness surrounded them. Foolish might not have been the right word, tactical? Perhaps, but it still seemed idiocy to risk the snake’s lives when there were more of them guarding the entrance than normal, what could the benefit of such an attack be?

Meat sizzling on the fire summoned their brethren over. Food didn’t necessarily have to be cooked to please a Myrian gullet, and several hands grabbed half charred stick, sinking teeth into sections of entirely pink flesh. Imalla was one of these, and barked orders for those with food to return their posts even as her mouth was filled with meat.

The idea of food and rest had eased the half-breeds mind from the tiring day, but now that near relaxation was replaced by a serious kind of discontent that started somewhere in her midsection. She would revel in killing her enemies if they presented themselves, but something seemed entirely…off about this whole scenario. Yellow eyes showed a latent anxiety when they met Ayatah’s, not daring to voice her doubts lest he loyalty and blood lust be called into question.

[Ayatah]

”We didn’t see anything save the tracks of the creatures we hunted, you think the Dhani would be foolish enough to attack?”

Ayatah shrugged her shoulders. She knew little of the tactic of the Dhani race - but she did know that sometimes desperation caused sane people to do mad things. ”Maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time.” She threw a cautious look to her left and right, before focusing once more on the bird she held. It was a stout thing, but not so fat that it would take too long to cook. Holding the dagger loosely in her right hand, she dragged the bottom blade across the bird’s throat, putting more and more pressure as she completed a full circle around the circumference. Meat and tendons were revealed, and after a quick slice in the gap where she had broken its neck, Ayatah separated the bird’s head from the body.

She did the same with the scaly feet, and soon they were thrown into the orange flames of the fire. ”Either way, it is best not to get lost in dreams tonight, Tin.” She said, throwing her friend a grin.

”Shove over, half-breeds.”

It was a young woman that had spoken this time, arrogant and proud. She barged Ayatah to the side so she could reach a sizzling piece of browning meat. Snatching her hand forwards, the half-Eypharian knocked the skewered food from the other woman’s hand. ”Hald-breeds killed and cooked that meat. It isn’t good enough for you.” The words allowed no argument, and even if the younger woman had mustered up a comeback, Ayatah had already turned away.

”What is wrong?” This time when she spoke, her voice was soft and low. Dark eyes looked upon her friend’s face, almost worriedly. ”You know you can say anything to me.” Once again, her shoulders rolled into a casual shrug, and an easy smile came to her lips.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

Tinnok mused about the events that had unfolded over the day as she wrapped the pig in banana leaves, the thick rubbery surface facing outward in the fire so the flames would slowly heat and cook the meat, leaving it pink and tender once the leaf had burned away. She glowered at the comment, but left Ayatah to the clever comebacks, she wasn’t too good at them herself.

Then her friend’s eyes were turned to her, concern and comfort wrapped around them. Tin, couldn’t help but smile. There was something easy and care free that lurked behind the agile warrior she had grown up with, probably a trait that hung in her Eypharian bloodlines. Truth be told Tinnok had often been jealous of her, though she was loathe to admit it. The half breed seemed to have the best of both worlds: beauty and intelligence mixed with deadly skill. Of course something similar could be said for her and…that wasn’t how any Myrian saw the dilution of their blood, either of them. She lacked this natural charisma, however, the same easy wit, so she leaned in close to speak. ”I dunno, Aya, it just feels off. That arrow, how quiet it’s been, this whole thing is just wrong. You’re right…no dreams.”

She glanced off thoughtfully into the shadowed darkness, and then heard a snort to her left. “Can’t blame you, snake. I’d be scared of my family eating me too.”

Tin saw Aya’s mouth open to say something, but Tinnok held up a finger and turned, eyes wide, pupils mere slivers in the yellow depths, as she rotated to face another brutish female. “The only thing any Dhani that attacks us will be eating is the hilt of my dagger in their gullet after they swallow you whole, G'iib-tah.” She maintained eye contact with her verbal adversary for a moment, large eyes unblinking, and smirked in triumph when the other woman turned away first. Tin shifted one of the wrapped sections of meat from the fire and gingerly poking away the few charred remnants of leaf left before picking up the meat and ripping into its flesh.

Once finished everyone moved to rest in quick succession. Guards were posted, bed rolls laid out, and armor removed to better sleep. Tin had second watch, Aya third, so immediate sleep was a necessity. Tinnok could never get over how intensely tired one could be after a day of mere walking. It seemed that the heat enjoyed sapping all the energy from one’s bones regardless of what you did in its presence. Aya and Tin were the last one’s at the fire, whispering to each other when Imalla clapped a hand forcefully on both of their shoulders. “Get some bloody rest, half breeds, I won’t tell you twice.”

It was probably the kindest thing she had said to them yet, and Tinnok certainly couldn’t refuse their leader’s request. She gave a nod to her friend and moved to her own bed roll. The anxiety was still there, crawling beneath her skin, but her eyes still shut. The snake tossed and turned in her bed roll, had a rock thrown at her, calmed, then finally began to drift into something approaching a slumber.

[Ayatah]

”I dunno, Aya, it just feels off. That arrow, how quiet it’s been, this whole thing is just wrong. You’re right…no dreams.”

Ayatah would have responded to her friend - but another pig-headed woman had decided to interrupt them. Almost instinctively, Ayatah opened her mouth to give the she-warrior a comeback… But Tinnok silenced her.

When the half-Dhani delivered her verbal blow to the other woman, Ayatah could not help but grin. This was how the two had survived in their xenophobic community; witty remarks and sharp comebacks. She directed her smirk into the flames, not wanting to arouse any more comments from the other patrols. The small bird that she had plucked, beheaded and now gutted was roasting nicely; it’s skin browning and spitting. She turned it slowly, her eyes wide with an animalistic hunger. When a male leaned forward to try a sample, her head snapped leftwards to face him, and she growled.

He backed away, almost scared. When she was satisfied that there were no other scavengers around to steal her meal, Ayatah finally replied to Tin. ”Perhaps your right - instincts usually are. Either way, the Dhani wouldn’t attack us unless-“

Unless they had good reason to, or had plotted to attack us.

The latter of the two possibilities was the most concerning. If the snake-people had gone to the all of the trouble of killing a pig just to pose it as a decoy… it implied they had a trick or two up their sleeves - or scales.

Now it was Ayatah’s turn to be concerned. It was certainly… odd to kill a pig and then leave it as -- what? Bait? Why would the Dhani leave such blatant evidence that they had emerged from the under-ground homes? To distract the Myrians, maybe, but from what? She frowned as countless possibilities flicked through her mind, and none of them particularly positive.

“Get some bloody rest, half breeds, I won’t tell you twice.”

Sleep would not come easy -- not now. As Ayatah unpinned her hair and slid in between the covers and bedding, her thoughts were still transfixed on the Dhani. Bennik was snoring loudly to her left, and she heard a dull thud to her right which made her sit up, confused. A rock? It was then that she realised someone had thrown it at Tinnok, and she felt a stab of frustration. She clutched the stone in her hand, threw it back at the culprits and missed by an embarrassingly large distance. ”Hey, Eypharian. I’ll give you something else to hold in those pretty hands of yours.”

She folded her arms grumpily, and lay back down. After a moment or two, she had her reply, ”I’d rather hold a snake that a maggot.”

”Shut the shyke up and get to sleep!”

And even Ayatah did not bother answering back to Imalla.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

She hung in an in between state as she lay there on the ground. The noises of people throwing sticks into the fire hung in her mind, and occasionally her eyes would flicker open to stare uselessly into the darkness before subsequently closing. Some of her comrades had begun snoring, yet she still tossed and turned, no one coherent enough to throw rocks any longer. She felt exhausted, anxious, and awake all at the same time, which created an overwhelming frustration with herself as she lay atop her bed roll.

Finally it happened, the sinking feeling of her eyelids shutting closed, body accepting the tired state her body had been trying to pass off for the last bell or so. She didn’t snore, but her breaths became long and shallow as her mind drifted off into unconsciousness.

It seemed only an instant later that a hand grabbed her shoulder and violently shook it. She sat up in a start, dagger in hand at the person’s throat, who just happened to be Imalla. Her eyes widened, but instead of the disgusted grimace that normally graced her features the scout leader half smirked at the prepared nature of her underling. Her turn for watch. Despite that instant of bonding the Myrian did not offer a hand to Tinnok to get up, and spat at her feet before making her way to her own bed roll. A few others rubbed sleep from their eyes as well, and Tinnok couldn’t suppress a yawn that forced its way out of her throat.

She made her way to the edges of the camp site, giving a mocking salute to some of the constant vigilant guarding the opening, most of which responded with lude gestures. She let her bow sit relaxed in her grip, taking up a flanking position to the main force so that her vision afforded her a part of the surrounding forest. Slowly her eyes adjusted to a new form of light, a slim sliver of moon keeping her company as she watched. She glanced up and silently thanked Leth for his company before resuming watch.

Everyone was slowly becoming relaxed. The quiet night coupled with the tiring nature of the guards and scouts slowly wore on the senses until the weariness of the mind transferred into the senses. Even Tinnok, who was one of the most paranoid among them found herself wondering if this whole situation had been read too far into, and that this night would be like all others. That was when she heard it, the shifting of rocks at the entrance of the caves.

There was something satisfying in how quick and succinct the sound of at least a dozen bows drawing taut simultaneously sounded. Each arrow head was pointed directly at the entrance of the cave, eyes squinting in the darkness to see if they could catch any movement. Tinnok’s mind seemed to regress into earlier times as those doubts from before returned in force. Would they be foolish enough attack with more of us here than normal? And why come out the front door where we’re expecting them to pop out of? An idea was at the back of her mind, that niggling set of doubts forming into something akin to realization, but just then a silver tail flicked into the moonlight and the twang of at least a dozen bows echoed across the clearing, nearly all, including her own, hitting their mark. There was a cry from within the cave, but it was drowned out by a wail from within their campsite. Then the thought clicked. “DIVERSION!” Tinnok screamed, and dragged another arrow from her quiver as she sprinted back to camp.

[Ayatah]

A scream was one of those noises that, even when heard in the deepest of sleep, woke a person up

And baring in mind that Ayatah had been unable to find completely restful sleep, when that sound hit her, she was sitting bolt upright before she had truly realised what exactly had happened.

“DIVERSION!”

She barely recognized the voice as Tinnok’s, though somewhere in her still dozy state, Ayatah’s mind matched the cry to her half-Dhani friend. A hand on her shoulder told her that Bennik was up and ready, and she quickly staggered to her feet, turning around --

But she stopped after seeing the twitching, dying body of one of her own people.

The young woman’s neck had been sliced right open, her body dropped to the floor dismissively after the crude murder had been done. Only the last glowering embers of the fire provided a reddy light, save for the moonlight and stars; but these made for poor vision. Around her, Myrian men and women were turning around desperately on the spot, trying to locate their enemy in the dank darkness.

Bennik had notched an arrow, his face crumpled into a confused frown as he surveyed the faces around him with suspicion. Ayatah, in a stubborn fashion typical to her personality, picked up her dagger and began to prowl slowly through the crowd, cat-like in her steps. It would harder to shoot an enemy out in the open (as open as it could be in the jungle, anyway) in such poor lighting. It was even possible that someone might be too keen to kill, and accidently catch a fellow Myrian with their arrow. She would be more successful should she face her foe in close combat.

Or at least, she hoped.

The Dhani had fooled her people once already that night, so the half-Eypharian guessed that the snake people were not beyond a second attempt of deceitful games. They would not hang around here. That woud be asking to be killed… The thought process had her step closer to the entrance to the snake-city.

In conflict, as she did in life, Ayatah attempted to consider all the possible options and outcomes of her actions. She was not a jump-in-and-jump-out warrior, like her cousin was. Bennik would kill first and ask questions later. But that mind frame was as foreign to Ayatah as her father was. Of course, when she was caught in life-threatening battles, she attacked as ferociously as any Myrian, but when it came to finding a snake in the grass… Oh the irony

It made sense to Ayatah that the Dhani - however many there were - might try to head back to their underground city through the main entrance and exit. They would expect the majority of the on-guard patrols to leave their posts following the murder, surely?

As she approached the city entrance and exit, she realised that her thinking had been mostly correct. The majority of the patrols had left their posts, and had joined their comrades in hunting for the enemy.

Something dark and low and quick moved to Ayatah’s right, and she stopped mid-step. Her breath caught in her throat, and slowly, she backtracked until she felt a thick tree trunk against her back. Since her first hunting expeditions as a young teenager, she had been told to know what was behind you - and this was easier to do when it was a tree and not a Dhani, tiger or other enemy.

Her eyes flitted to and fro, and met a pair of familiar-looking amber slits. For a chime, she did not react. Is that Tin or… not? Her eyes narrowed, she lent forwards a little, hoping to recognize the person as her close friend. ”Tin.” she muttered eventually, having concluded it was, indeed the half-Myrian, half-Dhani. ”You would be wise to stay away from the oth-“

Another shape rushed towards Ayatah, knocking her sideways with absolute shocking momentum and speed. The air was pushed out of her lungs, and it was not until the earth jumped up to meet her that Ayatah was even aware of what had happened. From her new, albeit lower, position, she stared upwards and saw a tall, broad figure standing over her.

Dhani, Dhani, Dhani! She scrabbled on the floor, grasping at her dagger desperately and leaping to her feet.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

She balked, snarled, and growled and dashed through the brush. She should have known, should have been more awake, shouldn’t have let her guard down. Should, should, shouldn’t, even these thoughts infuriated her beyond end as she ran through the brush arrow up searching. Bloody excuses. Learn and move the petch on as her mother would say, and she hated pretty much everything her mother had to say, but that? That was solid advice.

Shaking these thoughts from her head Tin charged forward and saw a shadowed form pressed up against a tree. It was so hard to see, but the form seemed to lean towards her: Ayatah. The half-breed sighed in relief at knowing that the scream had not come from her friend, and she saw as similar look in Aya’s eyes to identify Tin as a friend and not a snake. Suddenly Tinnok realized exactly the dangers her eyes posed in scenarios like this, but she hadn’t the time to contemplate this new avenue of thought as a shadowy form knocked Ayatah clean over. In an instant her drawstring was pulled back, right arm twitched with exertion as she searched the darkness. Then she saw it. Not all in the sliver of the moon, but enough to show a shining fleshy back that merged with a tail as a Dhani in its in between form hovered above her friend.

“Hey, Skurak!” Goddess did it feel good to say those words, like candy upon the tongue. Bright green eyes glinted for a moment in the light as they flashed towards her, and Tinnok took a step forward, loosing her bow as she spoke. “Get the shyke away from my friend.”

The arrow was aimed squarely for the chest, a strong shot if Tinnok was judging herself. Yet like a thrown stick the creature plucked the arrow shaft out of the air and snapped in half, a mouth grinning with razor teeth. A long tail whipped towards her. Bow dropped and Tinnok watched the movement carefully, legs hopping backwards, throwing her weight all the way back and relying on her hands to catch her in a back flip. It was an awkward land, but out of range of the creature. That was, out of range from where it had been. Suddenly she felt her ankles ensconced in a tight scaly embrace and her body flew up. Her slit yellow eyes met the pair of vomit green ones, and a voice slid out like silk. “Who’sssss the Ssssskurak, now, Sssserxesnasss?” And then the world went fuzzy as she was hurled against a tree. Why can’t I grow a tail like that? The half breed lamented in the back of her mind as her body tried to recover from the below. Somewhere in the camp a whole holler of war cries went up as another one of the creatures was spotted, what in Myri’s name were they after?

[Ayatah]

“Get the shyke away from my friend.”

The face - which had been so close to Ayatah’s own - snapped upwards. The body slithered away, sending creepy shivers down the half-Eypharian’s spine. The air had been knocked straight from her lungs, and she a few chimes, Ayatah remained half-frozen on the ground, muscles tight with a mixture of panic and pain.

“Who’sssss the Ssssskurak, now, Sssserxesnasss?”

Myri that voice…. There was something disturbingly evil about how the snake-people spoke. But there was no time to be repulsed by the scaly foe. Her eyes went wide and her mouth gaped as she watched the Dhani throw Tinnok against a tree, as if she was nothing more than a child’s doll.

Now was the time for action.

Double-bladed dagger in hand, Ayatah rushed towards the creature that existed between man and snake. She did not have a tactic in mind, not truly. Against such a threatening foe, and in such a desperate situation, a well though out plot would change with each unpredictable movement of the Dhani. The two half-Myrians had little hope of controlling the situation, let alone coming out completely unscathed. But regardless of this close-to-hopelessness, Ayatah rushed forwards, leaping at the Dhani and letting out her own war cry. The snake-thing turned its serpentine head just as Ayatah embedded her dagger in the soft skin where it’s bulky arms met the torso.

The Dhani gave out a cry of pain, and struck an hand out towards Ayatah. The punch knocked her backwards, staggering helplessly as she tried to avoid falling down once again. Green eyes glinted with sick playfulness, and something close to a sneer revealed pointed teeth. This is all a game to him, she realised with slow dread, he’s just biding his time before he really tries to hill us. ”Ssstupid Myrian…” The creature slithered towards her, paused, and swung its massive tail at her ankles. Ayatah did not stand a chance to even try to dodge the pendulous tail, and landed painfully on her back. ”Although….” She felt scales slide over her bare skin as the Dhani half-caressed her. Holding herself up by her elbows, Ayatah shuffled away, but it was fruitless; the snake-man gave a snort, and lent low and close to her once again. His green, slit eyes bore into own dark ones, and they almost flashed delightedly. ”You are not Myrian. Neither of you. Thisssss isss too easssssy.”

Do Snakes have genitals? The almost hilarious thought popped into Ayatah’s mind just before she connected her leg to the Dhani’s lower, and scaled, body. The blow barely made him sway, but the momentum of her sideways kick allowed Ayatah to roll away. The dagger was still in her clutches - she had long learnt that falling and dropping her dagger in the process was practically asking for death.

Of course, not having a clue what to do next was not much better…

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

It wasn’t the first time Tinnok had felt fear. There had been a lot of things to be afraid of as an abomination of blood growing up, deadly the creatures were really the least of it. But it wasn’t the Dhani that sent a chill through her blood, nor their questionable odds against it either. No it was the way it stroked Aya’s face, the way it spoke. Was this what had happened to her mother all those years ago? Unable to fight it, stuck in that powerful grasp and subject to Goddess knew what before being released, knowing the thing that would grow in her womb was more torture than anything it could ever do to her?

Somewhere between feeling sick to her stomach with disgust for herself, and heart hammering fast with rage the Half-breed struggled to her feet. It was dark, and she scrambled forward on the ground, head aching from the blow, back screaming with every movement. Fingers ran manically over the ground in search of her bow, eyes darting up to glimpse the state of her friend. It was when she hit the ground rolling that Tinnok’s fingertips brushed against smooth wood and she snapped up bow, reaching back toward her quiver to find it was all but empty after her fall. Two left. She notched one, drew and fired. The creature’s eyes lazily watched the movement of the arrow, so horrendously off course he needn’t even try to grab it. It was when his eyes closed in a mocking hissing laughter that the second and last arrow was grabbed, notched and shot. This one stuck fast somewhere in his ribs and his cry of pain pierced the sky.

She sprinted, still disoriented, but able to focus on Aya’s tense body. She grabbed her friend’s arm and dragged her up. “We need to get to the group.” She hissed into her ear, and once the half Eypharian was on her feet they both made a break for it through the camp site to where the rest of the fang was. That was when Tin heard the second ear piercing scream of that night echo across the wood, and the cry that followed it as a whole group of Myrians made their mourning call into the sound of vicious revenge. “IMALLA!”

She heard the angry hiss of the beast behind them, the slither of a giant tail over the forest floor that sought to catch up to its pestersome prey. Any moment Tinnok expected that powerful tail to lash out and grab her again, to send her on a trip that would snap her neck or crack her spine. It was the perfect motivator as her feet pumped against the ground, crying out as she went. "We got another one over here!"