Open A Hunting We Will Go

[Viridae Kabre]

Upon the Zith spreading his wings, Viridae couldn't help but grin, the corners of his mouth curling with excitement. The Zith are such a perfectly balanced race, literally born to hunt, kill prey from the sky, bring balance to life and death from the heavens. He shook his head heavily to snap himself back to reality, before addressing Laute.

"We need a signal, if you plan on taking flight," He began, before pausing and placing a clawed finger on his chin in thought. It was much easier to signal during the day, whilst the birds were chirping. The chirp of a daytime bird this time of night would make most predators grow cautious and defensive. Viri closes his eyes and places his hands over his mouth before making a long hooting sound that caries low into the night. It was a bit longer than any sound a normal owl would make, and this in itself would be enough for them to know the other needs a word.

Viridae slung his pack and bow over his back and stare into the dark game trail, eyes adjusting easily to the ever growing shade of nightfall. The bear had made quite a mess, and it was clear that its staggering meant the injuries had to have been bad. He would be surprised if it made it more than ten miles through the forest before collapsing.

"See you in a bit," He says over his shoulder as he sets down the path, instinctively stepping lightly.

[Laute]

Laute almost snorted at the Symenestra's idea. Clearly he knew very little about Ziths. Speaking Common was hard enough for him as it was, his voice still giving way to the occasional squeak when his concentration slipped. Hooting like an owl would be impossible without any practice. Maybe even with practice, he hadn't tried yet.

No matter, he was here to see how Viridae hunted. Viridae could continue to use his own methods, and Laute could find another way to contact him if he needed to.

Nodding his agreement, he pushed off the earth, his strong legs giving a powerful kick. His wings took over next, pushing him further and further up into the sky. Soon he was a speck in the dark sky, his colouring blending him in for the most part.

Glancing at his knees, Laute grimaced. It was horrible colouring, the bright red that clung to his knees and elbows. A nocturnal beast could easily see him, if there was enough light and distancer.

Looking down, Laute could see the trees crowding together, leaving small gaps in the foliage. At this distance, the sights were indistinguishable, more dark shadows than anything else. The Symenestra was still moving forward, he could hear that much, but it was muffled. So very muffled by the trees and plants that crowded around Viridae.

He'd have to move closer. Angling his body down, Laute tucked in his body slightly to streamline his descent. As he came closer, his body smoothly cutting through the air, he could start to hear more.

A babbling brook. Several mice scampering through the dead leaves. A squirrel running through the trees. A little closer and he could hear the Symenestra's quiet movements through the forest. Viridae, following the trial, easily picking up the signs of the careless bear.

Laute pulled up, evening his flight. Still higher than the treetops, he listened carefully. The bear was no longer moving, at least not blindly like a stupid human would. No crashing, no breaking, the woods were full of sounds but not the ones he was looking for.

Instead, there was one he wasn't: a howl to his left. Not near enough to be a problem yet, but if the wolves were also following this trail it could be one. Laute listened for another, but none came.

No bear, no wolves. From here, the scent was diluted, not complete, and there was a reason Ziths were better known for their ears than their noses. Laute concentrated on the Symenestra instead, content with the knowledge that it would be some time before he was needed. Through the small chinks in the foliage, he watched the Symenestra work, picking up the trial from the earth and the woods around him.

A useful skill. Maybe one he should pick up later.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae paused, as he heard the first sign of the wolves drawing near. A slow howl began in the distance, marking the end of the day and beginning of the ruthless night. He continued on, quiet and quick, unable to escape the feeling of being watched. It was most likely Laute. Watching the Zith fly was a sight in itself. He was swift, graceful, silent, destinctly powerful, and extreamly deadly.

The path began to narrow, and the tracks grew thinner, more carefully placed. Viridae paused to stare at a large paw print, slightly sunk into the mud. The bear was moving faster now, which could only mean that either it sensed the wolves, or was onto the fact it was being tracked.

They couldn't be far now, and the wolves had surely gotten to the beast first. Viridae came to a break in the treeline near a brooke, and circled to stand downwind, before climbing half way up a thick spruce and perching himself on a branch, bow drawn. A large charcoal colored bear was crouching at the brook's bank, licking at a wound beneath its rib cage. The gash was long, and bleeding heavily, blood dripping into the water. The bear appeared to be extreamly exhausted, struggling to keep its large black eyes open, completely fixated on the wound. Obviously, its senses had dulled.

Viridae cupped his hands and blew between his thumbs, a long hoot carrying from them, subtly rising from the treeline, signaling to Laute that the hunt was on. He could take the bear easily, but Viridae couldn't help but be bothered by the fact that he had seen absolutely no sign of the wolves, and had lost their tracks a couple hundred feet before the brooke. They had to be close, but where?

[Laute]

OOC: Sorry about being late, busy at work.

The guide was almost hidden in the shadows, the occasional moonbeam making his hair glow a soft silver. Easy bait, perhaps. Looking down, he could see the Symenestra slowly, carefully pick his way to the bear. It was slow but clever as Viridae slid through the darkness, making only the smallest of sounds. A better hunter than he expected. Maybe next time he could fight one.

A soft sound caught Laute's attention, the dull thudding of a weakened heart. Each beat was slower than the last. None of the speed that he normally associated with the dying--this was a creature who knew it was going to die and had accepted it. There was not much sport in killing it and when he heard Viridae's hoot, he hovered for a moment making a decision. He'd leave the bear to the guide--a single strike was all that was needed. No, the wolves were a more interesting target. He could hear signs of them--the howls that rose and fell every now and then, the sudden quieting of prey. There was an uneasy silence falling the woods, the knowledge of a hunt in more ways than one. Their heartbeats were the only thing that couldn't be quietened, and he could hear how rapidly they were beating in the holes and bushes the animals hid in. There were too many to differentiate the wolves and Laute would have to rely on his other senses. Quietly, he slipped through the foliage and onto a tree branch, his claws barely making a thud as he landed near his partner.

Laute cloaked his wings around his body, slipping deeper into the recesses of the trees. Opening his senses, he sniffed the air once, taking in the smell of rabbit and bear. Taking in the scent of sweat and fear. There were no hunters upwind of him, only prey and death. Laute turned his head behind him. The wolves would strike from there, or to his sides. But where? When?

Laute smiled, excited. The wolves were no longer after the bear alone, it would seem. Near them several ravens alighted on a tree, their keen eyes watching the pair as they sat on the branches. The wolves couldn't be far behind, then.

A sharp crack sounded to his right, a white nose peeking out of the undergrowth. Laute watched as the wolf slipped back into the shadows. Unlike the big cats, they didn't play with their prey. This one was an inexperienced cub, then, on her first hunt. Laute crouched on the branch, listening again for the heartbeats around him. After a few minutes, he moved closer to Viridae's branch and whispered, "They are circling us."

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae was still as a stone as Laute landed in the tree next to him, the bond between hunters boiling within his core. He could never carry this out alone, and the thrill and excitement of danger was almost enough to break his silent resolve. But he simply nodded in reply and stared into the bushes, catching a glimpse of the wolf.

Chimes felt like bells as he thought up a plan. "I trust you," He began quietly. "I'll make a break for the brooke, and take care of the bear. The wolves will surely be underfoot. Together, we could eliminate the pack, but I need to know that you have my back," He said, locking his eyes onto the Zith. He drew his bow and Nocked an arrow. "Unless you have a better idea?"

It wouldn't be long until the wolves left the confines of the bushes and his opening to take the bear would be closed. They had to be swift.

[Laute]

Laute growled in approval, eager for the taste of blood. "That was my intention," he replied, the last word coming out higher pitched than the rest of his words. In his excitement, his control over his voice slipped and he almost reverted to his mother tongue. He had never hunted with a non-Zith before, and it was almost easy to forgot now that Viridae wasn't one.

But he had to remember--the Symenestra's abilities were not his own and he had to be ready accordingly. Briefly, he considered remaining in the foliage, pouncing the moment when the wolves attacked. He immensely disliked the idea--crawling on the branches was not appealing and his speed would be reduced while he attempted to escape the twisted knots of branches that separated him from the open brook.

The other idea would alert the wolves to his movements though. Glancing at Viridae, Laute took in the slight frame that housed his body. While before he had only looked at it from a strength perspective, he now thought of it in terms of speed. He had seen how fast these spiders could move in their caves, and now in the woods. With a distraction, it would be easy for the hunter to reach the bear and quickly eliminate it.

A distraction. He almost snorted at the idea of him being the distraction. Still, it would improve his own chances of attacking a wolf.

And he got first pick of the more fearsome of the creatures they faced. "I will give you an opening," he said, reaching up to grab the branch above him as he did so. His wings were fettered here and he relied on his hands and legs to guide him to a higher point in the tree. Once there, he moved to the furthest edge and kicked off the branch, soaring into the open air above him. As his back left the web of foliage behind him, he unfurled his wings. Dipping slightly before his wings compensated for his weight, he then hovered in spot.

There. The wolves would be focused on him long enough for Viridae to make his move. And then...

Laute stretched his claws, already angling his body downward in preparation. This would be fun.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae's actions were all very smooth and gracefully. As Laute climbed higher into the tree, he angled his limbs and crawled on all fours quickly to the edge of a long branch, taking off as the wolves focused their attention on the Zith. He lept fourth and rolled across the hard packed dirt, sprinting towards the bear.

He fired all three of the arrows into the beast's neck, and it grunted loudly, stumbling into the water in an attempt to get to its feet. He was close now, about a hundred and fifty feet away, when he heard a growl from behind. One of the wolves, the younger one they had seen earlier, had broken from the rest of the pack and was dashing quickly towards him. He barely had time to drop his bow and pull a hunting knife before it pounced, tackling him.

Viridae extended his legs and pushed the wolve's chest away from his body to avoid its teeth as they rolled toward the grunting bear, obviously struggling to breath. Viridae grasped the knife in his hand and kicked the wolf off, before scrambling to his feet. He was almost not fast enough. The wolf had already stood, snarling, and they circled each other for a moment, before it pounced again.

He held up his forearm to protect his face, and the wolve's fangs sank deep into his leather bracer. He then stabbed it a few times in the neck, and it let go. The animal's carcass lie in the dirt, blood gurgling from its mouth. He winced in pain as he ripped off the crumpled bracer, and pulled up his sleeve. The skin beneath was already begining to flood with a dark purple bruise. He hardly had time to pick his bow up again before noticing the sun had gone out. As he turned quickly, his bow turned in front of him, and suddenly he was in the shadow of a large standing bear, huffing blood from its mouth in an attempt to growl. It swiped its paw at his head, and he ducked nimbly, reatching back for an arrow from his quiver. He grabbed it, but just a moment too late. The bear swipped again, langing a blow on his leather spaulder, causing him to jerk to the right and fall to the ground.

Viridae reacted quickly, rolling and nocking the arrow simotaniously, and sprung up to one knee before sinking an arrow into the beast's armpit, through the ribs, and into the heart. It stumbled for a moment and made one final lunge for Viridae, collapsing its mass on top of him before its heart stopped.

[Laute]

Laute spotted Viridae as he leaped to the ground, a dash of silver on the dark ground. Immediately, the woods around him came to life, the scent of the wolves growing stronger as they tensed for an attack. Laute waited a few seconds, letting the guide draw their attack now. Their attention was split between the two of them, the bear no longer a part of the equation. Only Viridae cared for the spent beast.

In a split second, chaos erupted. The young wolf, impatient compared to her elders, leaped out after Viridae. Before Laute could go after her, the rest of the pack emerged from the woods growling and Laute dived down to attack. As he wasn't that high up, he merely folded his wings back slightly and swooped down to an older grey wolf on the left flank. His claws dug into the wolf's belly as he scooped up the snarling beast. Caught by surprise, he dug his claws in deeper into the soft flesh of the animal as it twisted and turned, struggling to escape his tight grip. Each movement the wolf made caused Laute's claws to scratch him more until Laute finally dropped him. It wasn't high enough to kill him--Laute didn't have the time to do that--but enough to break his legs. Enough that this wolf could be ignored.

Laute swooped back down, but the same trick wouldn't work twice. The wolves were wary now, watching the sky now as Laute approached, and the rest would have to be fought in a more manual method. At least there were only five left now and Laute could have fun. He soared low, screeching as he did so. A wolf jumped, mouth frothing, while another whined nervously. Rising up, he turned and swooped once more, this time for an attack. Picking a wolf with brown fur, he tried to grip it the same way as his last when it suddenly turned. His left hand slipped and gripped the beast's chest while his right missed its mark entirely.

Immediately the wolf's jaw snapped down on Laute's arm and in an angry roar, Laute dug his claws deeper into the creature's flesh, flapping his wings to rise him higher off the ground as he did so. He could not get caught on the ground--the pack was still too large for him to fight them on his own. The blood pooled in his hands as he did so, warm and sticky, and with his right hand he punched the wolf's skull several times, not relenting until the snout loosened its grip. The wolf, angry and desperate, scratched at his chest, its claws slicing past his thick fur and into his warm skin.

[Viridae Kabre]

The bear slid slightly across the ground as Viridae pushed up against its thick body with his slight frame. He could hear the commotion. Snarling, growling, Yipping, but it was all a sort of deft muddle in his ears. He was too distracted by suffocation to focus on what was going on with the rest of the world.

He alternated wriggling with small shoves until he was able to bring his head into the warm light of day. tilting his head back against the ground, He saw the wolves leaping about madly, as Laute prepared to attack for what looked like the second time, considering one of the beasts was already laying directly on its hip a few feet away.

Viridae began to wriggle frantically, attempting to free himself before the wolves noticed he was still alive, but it did not matter. Laute was much more of a threat now, screeching and blazing through the open air. Viridae cringed as he swopped downward, and a snarling brown wolf shimmied to the side and tore ferociously at his arm. Viridae began to buck now, freeing inches of himself, and eventually freeing his arms. He pulled them above his face, and although the were soaked in blood, one still clutched his bow. He reached behind his neck for an arrow, and retrieved as many as he could, setting them on the ground beside him.

He tilted his head back again, and took aim at a wolf, upside down from his current viewpoint, then Nocked an arrow and tried his best to shoot the beast. The arrow skimmed across the ground and sank a lucky shot into its rear leg. It whimpered, and turned a black snout on him, Growling as it approached with a sick limp.

Viridae fired another arrow, once it was within close range, sinking an arrow deep into its skull. It took one more step, then convulsed violently and fell to the ground. The last three wolves rounded on him quickly, sprinting towards him. He quickly dropped his bow and began to wiggle violently in an attempt to get back beneath the heavy bear. Too late. One of the wolves leaped for his exposed neck, and he turned over. The beast hooked into his shoulder blade and began to toss its head violently. The armor there was giving way, and before long, Viridae felt the sharp tips of wolf teeth scratching against his skin.

The others followed suit, but Viridae was almost completely back beneath the bear, only his shoulder and hip still exposed, one wolf still trying to rip his arm off. The pack tore at the carcass, with the intent of shredding a hole into the beast to finish him off.

[Laute]

The three remaining wolves were on Viridae, destroying the bear in the process. Destroying his bear in the process. Infuriated, Laute gave the wolf on his arm a punch in the belly, and winded it let go. Not content to let this one fall to the earth, he grabbed it from the back, and holding it with his legs, he snapped its neck.

After the hard crunch, he let go of the beast and soared down to the wolves on the bear. His prey. His beast. Not theirs. He screeched, baring his fangs as he did so. Laute would prefer to attack the ones on the bear, but he could see Viridae trapped underneath the fallen creature. Another wolf was taking advantage of this vulnerable position, leaving itself vulnerable to attack. With a hiss, he tackled the beast and they rolled on the ground together for a few minutes. As they bounced off the stones and earth, Laute snarled and tried to maintain a grip on the wolf's body, but with each bounce his grip loosened. Finally, they came to a stop, sprawled on the dirt. The wolf recovered first, saliva dripping down its jaws as it attacked his already wounded arm. The pain jolted him to life and he moved onto his knees, dragging the wolf up with him. Blood dripped on the ground, the sharp smell making him see red. No, he was not going to lose. Behind him he could hear the remaining two wolves still targeting Viridae, the easier of the two targets.

No, he would not lose like this. Not in another hunt. He would not lose to his prey, no matter how experienced they might be.

Brother, your dagger...

Laute relented, not eager to use the weapon. But his own body was not yet skilled enough to survive without it. And he could not afford to lose much more blood.

Pulling his dagger out of his belt, he sunk it into the wolf's thick chest, flinching as the creature dug its jaws deeper into his arm. It scratched him, its claws slicing his chest and legs, but he pushed the blade in deeper, making a sawing motion as he did so. Pulling the blade out so the blood could flow freely, he stabbed another section of the chest, at the heart this time. He missed narrowly as the wolf struggled, still sinking the blade into its body. While lacking the range and length of a sword, the dagger worked much better in such small quarters.

This was taking too long. The wolf's struggles were still strong, though undirected, and he was able to pull it off his arm after a few minutes.

Pulling his blade out, he left the dying wolf and returned his attention to the other two. Only, the dying wolf wasn't quite done yet. As he got up, it lunged at his legs. Hissing, he shook it off, its weakened jaws giving up. It fell to the ground in a heap, a last rattle escaping its maw.