Closed Jungle Theory (Chavi)

[Garta]

17th day of Summer of the year 513 The light of the sun peeked through the canopy of trees, casting elongated shadows on the floor of the forest. In some parts, the canopy was so dense that no light shone through, and it was only illuminated because the light from other spaces encroached on it. In other patches, the light barely permeated through the darkness at all, and normal vision couldn't see anything that resided inside. Crouched in a patch of lit flora, Garta examined the crushed brush with a practiced eye. Having searched for mushrooms in the jungle, she came to have a basic affinity with identifying certain conditions concerning the state of the flora and fauna. Granted, it wasn't hard to see the blood that was smeared across the broad leaves of the plant she held in her hand. She leaned her head closer and sniffed, taking in the coppery smell. She stuck out her tongue and licked the leaf next, coating her tongue with a thin tendril of the thick blood. It was relatively fresh. The blood was that of a carnivore, she was almost sure of it. It had a bitter taste. Most likely, it was the blood of a predator. Maybe a large cat. Panther. With a wicked grin, she locked her dark eyes on her twin sister. She could see her sister scouring the trees, mindful of any predators that may be lurking. Chavi was the one who knew the jungles, and Garta was the one who knew the fungus. They worked well together when they traveled, and they never traveled alone. Garta coated her hands in the thick blood and then pressed them to her face, all five fingers spread open. The resulting bloody war-paint was sticky on her face, and she couldn't help but grin, her sharp canines gleaming. She stood and nodded in the direction the blood was smeared. Her breathing came in short bursts, and she could feel the excitement burning in her chest. She picked her Chakram up off the floor of the forest and gripped it tight. Without much more than a curt nod, she started off in pursuit of the animal whose blood she was now wearing as facepaint.

[Eztli]

A deep inhalation came from Garta’s left as she crouched in the underbrush, examining the tell-tale signs of a predator, perhaps a large cat having recently stalked through this area. Stalked was perhaps not the correct word. Chavi, too, slinked up ahead, bent over at the waist, legs jutting out with grace to practically tip-toe her way forward along the wake of the recent disturbance. She paused about five feet ahead of her sister. A hand sprung out and pulled at a matted trail of fur left on a low-slung vine nearby. It was gingerly brought to Chavi’s nose, and she inhaled deeply again, eyes momentarily closing. There was a mixture of blood here in the tangled hair. Blood and – as she dabbed it against the tip of her tongue – fear. The twin Myrian discarded the fur in her sister’s direction and noted the trail of blood that Garta had found. There was hardly a second to communicate as her sister rushed past her in pursuit of the animal. Chavi got to her feet, hands pressed into her thighs and sighed, shaking her head a bit as Garta passed her. Where her sister was a bit more frenzied, Chavi found herself reserved. They were not complete opposites of one another, and there was definite the odd bond of the nature of their birth… but in some aspects Chavi wondered if they had really come from the same womb. Eyes scanned the dense forestry ahead, looking for any indication of the cat’s path. By the time she thought she’d picked up on it, there wasn’t much use as Garta had already passed her… presumably on the same trail. Her mind idly pictured the large cat that might have been injured here, vague knowledge of the jungle and cats she’d seen before dancing in her mind as she sprung into action after Garta. From the indicated height, the fur might have been a snag of the shoulder or the haunch. She couldn’t be sure, but a morbid fascination with the way that all living things worked propelled her onward, yearning for the coming kill. Before she had cleared the trail of blood, Chavi loosed the Kukri in its sheath and dragged the flat broad side of the blade through the thick substance before holding it lightly in her hand, fingers wrapped around the hilt and sharp edge pointed up the back of her arm in a reverse grip. She would bring the scent of the trail with them as the predator became the prey.

[Garta]

The tuft of torn fur confirmed Garta's suspicions of a panther, and she confidently shot off into the forest. She knew Chavi was behind her, probably more cautious, but Garta caught the scent of the chase. It was on. She kept her eyes peeled in case the wounded cat was around somewhere, but she didn't see it. The bloody handprints on her face were starting to dry and congeal, and it made her face feel tight. She grinned, her sharpened incisors becoming prevalent. The chase always made her feel alive, and hunting something that could potentially hunt her back was always exhilarating. She looked left and right as she scoured the forest for any search of the bleeding cat. Every now and then she would pause and study the blood trail at her feet, or examine a tuft of hair or spot of blood on a tree. She stepped over a small group of mushrooms that appealed to her. She stooped down and plucked one off the ground, dropping it in her pack for later. She couldn't risk her or Chavi's safety on her addiction, but later, in the late bells, she could take it and see what effects it had. Of course, that was just as dangerous for the chakram-wielding warrior anyway. Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was the barest flick of movement, followed by what might have been light reflecting off the eyes of an animal. She stopped and made a silent motion to Chavi to look to where she'd seen it. Chavi's kukri would be great if the cat was wounded and couldn't use its superior agility to flank them at will, but if the wound was only superficial, she knew the chakram would prove more useful. She could throw it and finish the cat from a distance. As she was contemplating the choice of weapon, something large and heavy flew overhead, covering her in shadow for a mere moment. In a feat of practiced ease, she spun around on an axis, readying her chakram to be thrown if necessary. And mere yards away sat the panther, a cut bleeding across its torso, but otherwise unhurt. The cut looked bad, but not fatal, and the cat certainly didn't seem inhibited by it in the least. Of course, every wounded animal backed into a corner will fight with all its might. It was a natural response, shared by beasts and humans alike. Garta's sharp teeth showed once again, this time with shining eyes as she examined the cat. It was a perfect specimen of power and grace, and it was that aspect that shot adrenaline through her body. Her arms felt restless, her legs felt like they might explode into motion without a thought from her brain. She was battle-ready, and the rush felt so good. She didn't loose the chakram yet, however. She wanted to see how the cat reacted to the two of them before throwing her only form of defense. She slowly lowered into a crouch and waited for Chavi before she acted. However they were going to hunt this cat... they would do it together.

[Eztli]

Garta’s momentary interest in the mushrooms at her feet gave her sister but a moment to close the gap between them, but the restless Myrian was once again in motion almost as quickly as she had stopped: Chavi barely gained any ground. Inwardly, the latter of the twins was torn between cursing Garta’s addiction or being thankful for it… without it there was no way Chavi would ever have managed to be nearby when the Panther would make itself known. Suddenly, the fellow warrior drew to a halt and Chavi, seconds behind, slid into a bit of a crouch, the kukri coming up across her body in her right hand, steadying itself near her left shoulder. She scanned the dense foliage in the direction Garta had indicated and caught a brief rustle, a light gleam of the cat’s yellow eyes. Chavi drew in the scent of the cat’s blood from the end of her knife once more and waited, senses on alert, muscles tensed. She felt it before the shadows even covered her. A soft pad of footsteps behind them as it cleared their heads gracefully. Had Chavi been a better, more seasoned warrior… perhaps she would have taken the opportunity to deepen the wound on the large cat’s stomach. Despite mandatory service for the last three years, Chavi was still wet around the ears when it came to instinctive reactions… unfortunately. There was something to be said about besting a wicked creature such as this, and already Chavi’s mind was dissecting the paws of the creature and extracting the tiny bones that would make up its wrist, stringing them together alongside the human carpals on her necklace. She barely breathed, left leg reaching out and dragging her to the side a bit, an attempt to circle the cat. Unlike her sister, Chavi needed to be up close and personal to truly pose danger to their prey. The panther began to stalk back and forth, yowls of warning issuing from deep within its powerful jaws. Chavi continued her slow circle on the creature, which was diverting its attention mainly to her for the moment due to her attempts to get closer, and get out of sight. It did not, however, turn its back nor side to Garta and the Myrian twin began to wonder if it was going to allow them to close any distance at all. Nothing seemed to be stopping it from continuing to run, except the density of the jungle that would impede both predator and prey for the moment. Chavi’s gaze momentarily flicked back to Garta and she jutted her chin in the cat’s direction, hopefully indicating that they should both show aggression at once to destroy the cat’s ability to completely focus on one of them. Even if Garta wasn’t going to throw her chakram, some movement on her part might allow her sister to get a decent strike on the cat. It crouched, throat rumbling in anger, tail flicking back and forth. Beady yellow eyes followed Chavi as she continued to inch closer and then finally stopped, well out of swatting range, knife ready for defense should it pounce in her direction.

[Garta]

Garta smiled as her sister began to circle around the cat. The predator instantly recognized the strategy, and did its best to remain ready. It followed Chavi but kept at the ready in case Garta went to attack. Instead, Garta started to coo quietly like one would to a child that was weeping. She also began to inch the other way, trying to get around the cat so that it had to face one or the other. She kept her chakram at the ready in case she needed to throw it, but it didn't seem like the cat had any intention of attacking first. Just like they were doing to it, the cat studied them, judging their abilities and their strategies. She could see the recognition in its yellow eyes and that made the plan that much more satisfying. She licked her lips and continued her circling and cooing. The blood that was on her lips tasted like bitter metal and she relished that thought. Soon, she would take the skull and spine of this cat and take it with her. Every hunter took their trophy. No doubt, Chavi would take the paws. Ironically, Garta didn't care about the pelt. Most sought the bigger prey for their pelts, but the Myrian twins cared more about the skeleton. They each took certain bones for certain reasons, and it was always the same. Garta's eyes flicked to Chavi's necklace for the briefest of moments, then back the cat, which was back away from both of them slowly. It was trying to back itself up to the jungle, to make it impossible for the two of them to flank it. It crouched lower, another growl escaping its formidable maw. And then it bumped into the trunk of a tree. The cat was officially cornered. And in an instant, its demeanor changed. It roared with enough ferocity that most men would have soiled themselves and run for their lives. Garta was not most men. She opened her mouth and roared back, screaming right in the face of the big cat as if it were no more than a domesticated pet. The painted warrioress locked her arm back and took aim. It was almost time. She looked at Chavi and nodded to her left, which was Chavi's right. She tried to convey that she was going to throw the chakram and miss, and force the cat to leap to that spot. When it landed, Chavi would be close enough to hack at it with her kukri. She let the unspoken plan sink in for a moment before she stepped forward suddenly, chucking the chakram at the cat. The chakram whirled through the air with a faint whistle, more quickly than the cat anticipated. It leaped out of the way, and the metal disc barely missed it. The chakram hammered into the trunk of the tree that was behind the cat, and Garta was already in motion. She dove forward after the throw, coming it up at the base of the tree. She slipped her hand through the chakram and gave a stiff yank. There was some resistance, but the chakram pulled free. The cat had landed exactly where she had anticipated, and to their luck, it was focused solely on Garta at the moment. Garta let out another war-scream at the cat to keep its attention, while silently urging Chavi to hack at its spinal cord with her kukri. Chavi was good enough with her weapon that Garta trusted her surgical precision when it came to strikes. Garta was all about doing as much frenzied damage as possible, striking whatever she could so that her power was the more prevalent force. Chavi concentrated on precision, and though that usually meant that her power suffered, she usually debilitated her opponent. It was actually a better method than Garta's, but where was the fun in the easy way? A battle only counted if you bled. No pain, no gain. Garta turned and put a foot solidly on the trunk of the tree, using it to propel herself toward the cat that hopefully had Chavi's kukri embedded somewhere in its neck or torso. She miscalculated the distance and overshot the pair of bodies, flying over the cat. She tried to turn in mid-air and slice the panther from the top, but she wasn't quick enough. Instead, she came down on her head and the chakram bounced from her grip. Lights danced in front of her eyes as she shook off the fall. Her chakram lay out of her grasp.

[Zurenai Avarachi]

Zurenai Avarachi Zurenai was laying on a tree branch at this time, sleeping in his animal form when he heard the commotion and stood, watching them with a keen interest. He picks up his bag in his jaws and leaps down from the tree, landing with a light thud and pads over to them, hiding in the brush as he watches, careful to not swing his tail and he waits for the fight to finish, deciding not to interfere as the Myrians were likely to prefer to die in battle then be helped by a Barbarian such as himself. He cannot help but grimace every now and then as he watches, careful not to let his presence be known and then slowly pads away, getting some distance before changing into his Human form. He stretches, naked and sighs, "Why must I put on clothing?" he mutters to himself before dressing and strapping on his weapons with a small yawn, walking back to where they were and watches, now in the open and he unsheathes his Kukri, ready to defend himself at a moments notice, struggling with whether or not to help her but looks up at her friend and decides that she will do it for him if it needs to be done and waits, watching with interested, keen eyes, slitted in the light.

[Eztli]

The tree’s placement was a gift from the jungle itself. Eztli’s lips split into a wide, toothy grin as she sat in silence: watching. Waiting. The knife did not waver, though the blood that was drying on it and dripping off the place where the hilt met the sharp, jagged edges of one side of the blade was all that moved. There was a certain stillness in the air for a split moment before…

The whirl of the chakram was a sound Eztli was very familiar with. The sweet song it sang gave Eztli all the indication and communication she needed from her sister. As Garta sprung upright at the base of the tree and yanked it from its final resting place, Eztli sprung into action as well. Every muscle in her leg tensed at once and propelled her ever forward, practically leaping with each footfall at the dark fur in front of her. The war-cry from Garta was enough: the Panther had turned to face her, perceiving her as an immediate threat. Applying her general knowledge of human anatomy to cats – and assuming the location of vital organs was… well… roughly the same, Eztli kept low to the ground, only standing fully upright and she brought the knife up along the lower section of the cat’s left side, aiming just behind the ribs. As she righted herself, the Myrian drew the blade up sharply, pressing into the cat’s abdomen, searching for the sickening sweet, bloody spleen.

Despite the fact that she had not wounded it deeply enough to find it, Eztli’s follow-through brought the kukri’s underside down across the creature’s back in a slicing motion, the jagged teeth near the base of the hilt combined with the curvature of the blade fitting perfectly over its muscular but exposed spine. She felt the knife slide across the vertebrae, not a stranger to the impact of knife-on-bone, and the subsequent rip of flesh as the teeth bit into and wrecked the flesh that surrounded her point of attack.

The cat writhed in pain, immediately wheeling around. Garta was a thing of the past for the moment; Eztli’s assault having made her the largest priority. As it spun, the panther’s right forward paw swung around and it faltered slightly, backing up towards the tree again, safe and sound in the knowledge that Garta was no longer there. Eztli had tucked the blade near her body, the flat side against her shoulder to adorn herself with first-blood, and tumbled into a sort of somersault out of the way of the paw. The edge of the claws caught her by the boot. Instead of getting to her feet, Eztli rolled long-wise towards Garta and slowly pulled herself back to a squatting position, facing her sister. Left eye on the cat, who was momentarily too frightened to react once more, the kukri-wielding Myrian’s gaze rolled into the surroundings once more.

There was another presence in that lighter area of foliage in the jungle: a man. Eztli growled. This was their kill. A man should feel honored to watch such a display! At least… That was how this particular Myrian thought. Eztli grunted: ”Got an admirer.” For now, the man was of secondary concern to the now, hopefully, significantly injured panther. Still, she neglected to put her back to him. As a soldier, Eztli knew better than to take her eyes off an unknown, potential threat.

[Garta]

Garta heard the sickening crunch as the kukri met the cat's vertebrae. It wasn't a hit that severed clean through, as Garta would have hoped. She saw the cat turn and swipe at Eztli, but her sister was nimble enough to leap away. With a smile, the Myrian aimed her chakram again, this time aiming to hit the cat in the throat. It was wounded, but not dead. Before she could loose the weapon, Eztli noted something in the bushes. Still wary of the cat, she snuck a glance over and saw the man standing there. His presence nearly surprised her enough to drop her guard, but now she could smell the metallic scent of the panther's blood radiating from her sister and the cat.

She flung the chakram and it flew deftly, slicing right into the throat of the panther as it lifted its head. The blood sprayed out as the big cat garbled slightly and fell forward. A wicked grin followed the arterial spray and Garta calmly walked over to the fallen cat to retrieve her weapon. Her hand gripped the slick weapon and with a firm pull, it cleared the throat and left the corpse of the cat to bleed all over the ground. She once again crouched in the blood and painted her arms and face with it, drawing a thin red line across her throat. She licked her fingers and stood, staring at the intruder.

”That we do.”

She ran a finger idly over the razor edge of her blade, staring at the male that had decided to join them. She glanced back at her sister with a smirk. With her chakram, she motioned for the male to join them. Though she knew Common, she decided to speak to him in the Myrian language, because she thought herself superior to him.

"Come on out, little lurker."

She stepped toward the newcomer with a wild grin. The panther's blood was drying on her arms and face and neck, and the thickening feeling made the hairs on her arm feel stiff. She got close enough to pull the bush back, revealing the rest of the young man. She motioned out with her weapon, offering to let him go in front of her. Keep your sisters close, but your enemies closer. And he definitely wasn't her sister.

[Eztli]

Garta’s approach was the perfect distraction. The twins were accustomed to performing such functions for one another even without verbal communication. Where the chakram wielding Myrian was coming at the Kelvic from the front, Eztli had moved side-long towards the Panther, disappeared behind it, and then quickly into the brush. Though she wasn’t adept at being completely silent whilst stalking her prey, Eztli did understand how to keep out of sight. The cat blood had been foregone for now in favor of blending in with the jungle surroundings. Red was a bright color. She didn’t need bright colors.

Keeping low with the various fawns and low-lying branches, Eztli cut a path towards the Kelvic in the underbrush even as Garta’s native tongue. Poised for a strike, the Myrian noticed that the newcomer also had an unsheathed kukri in his hand. A threat.

Pushing off the ground, Eztli charged the Kelvic, kukri raised into the air in a reverse grip intent on stabbing the very life right out of the man. When she was about three feet from him, the Myrian pushed off the ground with her strong legs and literally lept at him. The knife was poised high in the air and came down like a hammer as her other hand clamored to grab a hold of his own knife-hand and keep it from injuring her.

Zurenai only had moments to react. Eztli’s movements were easy enough to notice as she wasn’t hiding her approach after the notice of the knife. He had turned to face her but it was too late – the Myrian’s weight slammed into him and forced him to the ground. The Kukri had come up to meet her and nicked her forearm – Eztli cursed in response, wrist twisting around to grip the assailant’s – and soon enough they were both on the jungle floor. Eztli’s right knee was expertly positioned to slam down on top of the man’s free hand whilst her’s pinned his down and the more experienced knife-wielder found her mark: the Kelvic’s throat. She pressed the tip deep against the center, straight into the man’s windpipe and leaned in close, wanting to look him in the eyes as the life ran out of him.

A small grin crossed Eztli’s face as she changed grip on the kukri and forced it down suddenly across his neck with all her might to sever the muscles that held his head aloft. Eventually, her head would swivel back around towards Garta.

”Should know better than to draw on a soldier.” Was all the twin commented, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as she motioned with her head for Garta to join her.

[Garta]

Garta stood as still as a corpse, not daring to move while her sister attacked. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the attack, but she didn’t want to distract her sister and cause her to miss. As the blow fell, Garta stared at the young man, and it was a full three seconds before his head finally slid off. It fell forward and bounced off the ground, rolling to stop at Garta’s feet. The arterial blood spray coated the surrounding brush and trees, and it smelled like iron.

The warrioress bent at the knees, lowering herself down to pick up the severed head. Thick droplets of blood still fell from where the head was severed. Garta ran a finger over the clean cut and licked it, then made a face. It tasted like panther. Her eyes glinted as she looked at her sister. She carried the head over to the body of the Kelvic.

”Panther.”

She chuckled as she opened the lips on the severed her. She crouched and set the head on the ground. After feeling the strength of his teeth, she placed both thumbs on his canine teeth. She placed all her weight on her hands, and after a moment the teeth gave way. Both upper canines dislodged and fell to the back of his mouth. She reached in and grabbed them, and then tossed the head away. She looked back to Eztli and smirked.

"Take your trophy, sister."