Closed Coming Home (Scorn)

[Massacre]

Massacre had already started on the woman when Scorn finally came over, but he did not mind sharing. Technically it was her kill anyway, and there was plenty to go around. He mostly ignored the man's screams, though he was impressed by Scorn's way of dealing with him. It was a good idea keeping him alive so they could have fresh meat in the morning. The other man likely would not survive the night, but the one under the horse would make a good breakfast for the both of them. "Good idea with the arms. We can bring him with us. I think I'll knock him out though, he might attract danger." Massacre stood and was about to head over to the man when he noticed the gash in Scorn's wing. All thoughts of the screaming man were gone and he quickly moved to look over the cut, grabbing hold of the wing to keep it still despite whatever protests Scorn might put up. He'd seen a lot worse, even suffered a few himself, but a wing injury could mean death for a Zith. Massacre shot a glance at the wailing man, frowned when he realized he might have to carry Scorn and leave the human behind, and then let go of her wing. "You can't fly like this, or you'll make it worse. We're going to have to walk. We should get out of here," he said as he paused to sniff the air, his nose filling with the scent of fresh blood. "The birds will be here soon. We need to leave before they come." The "birds" he was talking about were Glassbeaks, and he assumed Scorn would guess as much. No other bird would pose a threat to a pair of Zith, even if one of them was grounded. He didn't doubt they would soon pick up the scent, and the old Zith did not want to be anywhere near the area when they did come. The big question was, should they try to bring the human or not? "What should we do with him?"

[Scorn]

Scorn made a slight mewling sound as he examined her wing. He was gentle, but it hurt less when she didn't move it at all. Her face fell when he suggested walking. That would be so slow! But...she knew he was right. She did not look forward to the consequences of trying to fly with a wing that hurt this much. Her spirits fell even further when he said they should leave. Why did him being right have to be so not fun? It killed her that she and Massacre had performed so gloriously on their hunt, taking on a dangerous group that outnumbered them, and yet most of their spoiled would go to scavengers. She knew one thing at least. "We are not leaving that here too. I am barely full, and I won't be able to hunt tomorrow like this. Besides," she said, smiling mischievously, "I didn't break his legs." Of course, that begged the question of how they were going to get the man out from under his much heavier companion. Still feeling rather peckish, she approached the problem with her stomach: she squatted by the man (keeping her wings raised away from him), and began eating the horse above him.

[Massacre]

Scorn was clever. For some reason Massacre had never even considered making the man walk. The horse had him pinned and was sound asleep, the poison from Massacre's arrow making sure of that, but it was unlikely that his legs were completely broken. His arms were useless, and the man was not a threat, and it was far better than leaving him behind. Massacre did not even have to knock him out. Instead the Zith knelt next to Scorn and joined in the feeding frenzy. The horse wasn't as good as the woman had been, but it still wasn't a bad meal, and there was a lot more meat on it. There was something about human flesh that Massacre just delighted in, but he didn't mind the horse either. After he had his fill Massacre retrieved his weapons and waited for Scorn to finish. Once both Zith were fully sated they began the difficult process of removing the horse from the man's body. The beast was quite heavy, but two Zith working together were plenty strong enough to move the creature. As soon as he was free the man tried to crawl away, but Massacre pounced quick and landed on his chest, pinning him back to the ground. There was a brief struggle, but the man was no fool, and knew his only chance of survival would be to wait and look for an opening to escape. "You come with us," the old Zith ordered in his deep voice, using the common language so that the human would understand him. "You run, you die." Massacre got off the man, glaring down at him. It really was the truth. If the man tried to run Massacre or Scorn would kill him. Even if he did get away, without any arms he wouldn't last long. If he stayed with the Zith, he would probably still die, but at least he had a chance of getting away. If the man was smart, he would do as he was told. "You get up. Now."

[Scorn]

The man was slick with the blood and gore from the horse that had dripped onto him. (Scorn was rarely neat in her eating habits.) She hadn't realized the horse was still alive. If she had, she might have tried to think of a way to bring it with them as well. It didn't matter now though; it was time to move on before the pack birds arrived, not time to be messing about with unconscious hoof-beasts. Scorn watched Massacre handle the human with a little smile on her face. She was perfectly happy to let the older Zith push the human around. She knew that the human knew who had broken his arms. Wrapping her wings around her like a cloak, the injured one inside the other, she walked over and kicked the human. He was getting up too slowly. Perhaps it had something to do with having two broken arms, but Scorn was not interested in how tomorrow's meal felt. If he slowed them down, they'd all be in trouble. With Massacre flanking the human's other side, the trio began the slow trek into the night. Traversing space on the ground was a new and not altogether comfortable experience for Scorn. It was with an effort that she managed not to jerk her head toward every nearby sound, worrying that it might be a threat. She could no longer outdistance any potential threats. Add that to the pain her wing still gave her, and she made for a rather irritable travelling companion.

[Massacre]

Though he took a little convincing, the human did finally rise to his feet and soon enough the trio were marching off into the dark. No matter how much he wanted to resist, the Drykas was smart enough to realize he could not win at that moment, and he also was well aware of the dangers of remaining at the camp now that there was blood in the air. Going with the Zith was his only chance of survival, even if it was just for a few bells longer. Massacre couldn't help but let his eyes wander over toward his new companion as they walked through the grass. She had managed to impress him, despite getting injured. He couldn't fault her for that. Massacre had long ago learned just how dangerous a human could be. Most of his tribe had been wiped out by the humans in the jungle all those years ago, and Massacre knew better than to dismiss them as potential threads now. Scorn was young, impulsive, attractive, a Zith, and just what Massacre needed. He'd been so lonely, but finally he was back with another of his own kind, a kindred spirit. He'd stay with her as long as he could, at least until she found her sister. After that, the old Zith did not want to think that far ahead. Scorn might not want him around anymore once she was reunited with her sister, but a Zith could hope. Until then, Massacre was just happy to have a friend. And so, off into the darkness they went, putting the rising sun behind their backs, beginning what Massacre hoped would be a long and exciting adventure together. End

[Translucent]

Congratulations On Your Hard Work!

Scorn:
XP: +1 hunting, +5 observation, +3 unarmed combat, +2 rhetoric, +2 socialization, +2 planning, +1 running
Lores: Zith: The elder eats first, Massacre: Lost his Colony in battle,

Massacre:
XP:+1 hunting, +5 observation, +2 unarmed combat, +1 rhetoric, +2 persuasion, +2 socialization, +2 weapon: Great sword, +1 weapon :Longbow
Lores:Missing the Grasslands, Scorn: lost amid the sea of grasses, The offer to go with Scorn, Scorn: Rash and impetuous


Notes: I just wanted to note something. Zith have … a lot of offspring. Zith women tend to breed twice a year and nearly always having twins. There is not as much as one might think in the way of familial connections with the Zith. It would be doubtful if a leader Zith would hesitate to punish an offending Zith simply because of progeny.

As always PM me if you have issues.