Why Did It Have To Be Snakes? (Dravite)

[Ssenislin]

34th of Fall, 515AV "It's no Kenash, but it'll do." Ssenislin decided about the waterways around Endrykas. The water wasn't quite as murky, and the supply of blissfully ignorant beasts somewhat smaller, but he could still ambush the occasional moose and find a relatively sheltered nook to digest the thing in peace. Still, there were certain things that Kenash had that this horse town just didn't, and that was flavor. The Drykas barely wore any gold at all outside the comfort of their homes, survival demanding they dress practically (and, in the Dhani's opinion, dully) and the supply of drink just lying around was tragically low. Really, these horsemen seemed to constantly flirt with total savagery, and it made Ssenislin a touch frustrated. It had been weeks since he'd been able to enjoy what he considered the finer things in life, and it left him in a sour mood. It was while he was brooding over his tragic lack of vice that he felt the sustained rumble of a nearby wagon vibrating through the water. Curious, he struck a path in its rough direction, occasionally popping his serpentine head out of the water to scan the bank. After a few chimes, his efforts was rewarded. He tasted the sweat of men and oxen on the air. Men, oxen... And the acrid scent of booze. The anaconda moved swifter, tongue flicking frequently to draw a bead on the wagon. Soon it came into view. The man drawing it didn't seem to be Drykas, sun-parched and bronzed with a bleached cotton shirt, overalls, and a floppy wide-brimmed hat. His wagon was modestly sized, and loaded with barrels of what smelled like liquor. He was attempting to ford a narrower section of a river with mixed success. His oxen appeared to be having trouble walking through the silty riverbed. Perfect. Ssenislin ducked underwater and swam low until he was a mere yard from his glorious prize, then reared up and began to shift. The man heard the sound of pouring water to his left and turned with a frown on his face before turning pale at the sight of the noise's source. He stared wide-eyed at a gargantuan scaly beast larger than the entire wagon, heavyset and muscular with a set of gleaming triangular teeth on display through a wicked grin. "Well. What's this delectable morsel trespassin' on my river?" it purred in a voice more crocodile than man. The driver sat there in dumb shock for a full three ticks, then promptly threw himself off the wagon and splashed frantically towards the nearest shore, screaming in terror as he fled. Ssenislin cackled in delight as he watched the human escape, pleased that the fleshbag understood its place. The oxen lowed in fear and strained against their bonds, but the wagon was quite stuck now, particularly without a driver to direct the poor beasts in a productive direction. Ssenislin could kill them now and have a nice meal, but then one of them would get cold, and that was just wasteful. Besides, they weren't going anywhere. A bounty like this, the Dhani thought as he sighed happily and floated on his back, reaching lazily for the first of the barrels, deserved to be savored.

[Dravite]

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It was easier to meditate in the rain, something about the warm, light shower felt strangely relaxing even from where he sat on the back of the restless Bloodbane. The mare turned her head to nip at the horse lord’s right leg, grazing his leathers with her fangs. Dravite slipped from his trance-like state to scold the animal, bringing her back in line before venturing once again into the web. He had been checking in on an unannounced caravan making its way towards Endrykas from Syliras for some days now. After watching the movements for a spell, Dravite could only assume that the occupants of the wagon had run into some difficulty getting across the Zeis River, half a bell from the watchman’s current location.

The ride from Endrykas was relatively trouble free, though after outrunning a pair of a wolf-brothers, Vicious seemed less willing speed her rider towards the river’s edge. Dravite nudged the mare in her side with the toe of his riding boot, encouraging her to go on. Languidly, and in her own good time, Vicious walked up the steady rise on the riverbank where Dravite decided to dismount, making the rest of the journey on foot. It wasn’t long before he spotted what looked to be an abandoned cart with two oxen still tethered to the helm.

The black leather belt around the man’s waist played host to an array of handy tools and weapons that would do the job of cutting the animals loose, though Dravite was torn between using his dagger, hatchet, or hunting knife. Through the haze of rain he managed to get far closer than a man as observation as he should have, especially as he had completely failed to notice the twenty foot Dhani bathing just beyond the mess of barrels that had fallen off the back of the wagon. The tired oxen that stood stuck in the mud only stirred to life when freedom was granted to them under the swing of his hatchet against their worn leather harnesses. Dravite thought nothing of the speed at which they leapt from the water, scuttling up onto dry land like a pair of frightened mice.

As the horse lord stepped down from the wooden tongue, something gave way beneath the tread of his boot and caused the man to fall back into the water that quickly soaked through to the white shirt he wore under his black, leather tabard. Fingers decorated with silver hurried into the water to retrieve the hatchet and bone spear he had managed to lose and when he caught sight of the creature he had tripped over, the woven strands of the silver torc hung around his neck suddenly seemed too tight.

“S-s-s-sssn,” the man stumbled over the common word dumbly as he edged backwards on his hands towards that riverbank.

Adrenaline flooded his veins, the horripilation of his skin broadcasting the silent intrusion of fear that hadn’t quite registered in his eyes, too dumbfounded by the size, shape, and appearance of the half-man, half-beast he was now faced with.

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[Ssenislin]

It had been some time and several barrels, and for a while life was good for Ssenislin. The booze was delightfully strong and plentiful and their containers quite handy for lazing. Three emptied barrels acted as buoys for him and two awaiting drinking laid on his ample belly. Languidly he picked one up, tipped it over his waiting maw and let the contents pour into his gullet. With the gentle water, lovely little tickling raindrops, the warmth of the sun seeping through the clouds into his muscles and his food woes taken care of for some time to come, the Dhani once again felt like King of the River. In the back of his mind he noticed the scent of human, but that wasn't a problem. Doubtless he would give 'em a roar and they'd run away just like the fat wagon driver had. Thus, he continued lazing until he heard splashing. The drunken Dhani pawed clumsily at the side of the wagon, barely pulling his torso out of the water before a boot in his face caused him to fall over with a loud splash. Before he was confused, now he was concerned. A couple ticks later, when he looked to where his bovine meals were supposed to be and saw nothing, then glanced over at the terrified little man staring at him and put two and two together, he was angry. "Where'ssss my oxssen, little flesshling?!" the Dhani growled lividly, voice more guttural than normal as his arms swung like mousetraps to try and trap the interloper against his chest. If they're gone...

[Dravite]

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Desperation made a fool of the man, and while it seemed his hatchet was lost somewhere at the bottom of the riverbed, he had managed to take hold of his bone spear, waving the precious heirloom out in front of him to warn the drunken Dhani away, "back!" The horse lord yelled one of the few common words he knew how to wrap his tongue around in a hurry.

The river water rose and sloshed against him under the mass of the moving snake man, causing Dravite to lose his footing and trip over the giant tail that had managed to flank him, camouflaged by the murky water. Their struggle stirred up soot and debris that made it impossible to see anything below the waist and as Dravite fought to regain his footing, he swallowed a mouthful of dirty water and felt a giant hand grab his upper left arm.

The horse lord wedged his foot against the river monster's chest in an attempt to escape the vice like hold on his limb. Coughing up the water that seemed to have gone down the wrong way was now the least of his worries and as he saw the snake reach for him with a second arm, the watchman raised his spear to the creature's throat; all fear rushing from his features as he pinned the strange serpent with a defiant look.

"Let go!" Dravite scolded, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, "or by the gods I will cut my way from your gut and feed your heart to my horse!" Of cause, his threats would mean little to the snake, presented solely in Pavi; the quick spoken language of the Drykas people.

He hadn’t injured the Dhani yet, but that did not mean he wouldn’t try, should the man take any further action against him other than to trap him with a hold his muscles strained under. He lifted his hip to take his dagger in a reserve grip, pressing it to the sleek scales in the fold of his attacker’s elbow, “down!” the watchman ordered again, this time in common.

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[Ssenislin]

Being both drunk and furious, Ssenislin cared little for the inexpertly waved weapon, more interested in wrapping his corded arms around Dravite's quivering frame and squeezing until his ribs snapped like wishbones. The twitchy human was too fast though, the water granting him a measure of slipperiness and forcing Ssenislin to grab hold of his arm just to maintain some sort of grip on the filthy ox hustler. The Dhani's eyes pounded in their sockets, lips pulled back in rage. If he couldn't squeeze the fleshling to death, he'd settle for ripping him apart. Before he could grab hold of Dravite's other arm and make good on his new plan, he felt something press against his collar bone. The fleshling had managed to touch his spear against him. Ssenislin's arm froze in midair. He glared at the Drykas with a hate only a Dhani cheated out of food could muster, an angry rumble pouring from his chest and sending vibrations through Dravite's spear. The human was clever, forcing a stalemate like this, but Dhani could use their wits as well. His red tongue flicked out briefly between jagged teeth, tasting the fear his foe was sweating out. For a tick he was motionless, a slow hiss emanating from the back of his throat as the rumbling grew stronger. If Dravite was particularly observant, a small shift in his opponent's hips foreshadowed what was to come next. Without warning, the hand holding Dravite's arm released him, drew back, then came hurtling open-palmed and loose fingered at the back of the Drykas' head with as much of Ssenislin's strength behind it as he could possibly put. Simultaneously, the Dhani puffed out his chest and tried to bring his first down on the spear's shaft. The goal of the slap was to stun, but Ssenislin wouldn't be sad at all to hear a snap.

[Dravite]

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For a few short seconds his stomach was in his mouth; the feeling of free-falling towards the water causing the man to lose his footing only to be slapped first by the river and then an unwelcomed hand to the back of his head. Panic set in where pain should register; not because of the clout from the Dhani, or the idea of having the life squeezed out of him, but the fear of drowning that consumed him now.

It wasn’t the sandy riverbed that he felt beneath him but the smooth-rough scales of the snake-man’s tail. Dravite thought there had been a moment where the man had considered freeing him, or possibly reasoning with him; but now he knew the creature was every bit as calculating as he was. The horse lord wasted no time, now that this had become a life or death situation, he was forced to act as if every move could be his last.

A ham-fisted lunge with the steel dagger at the snake’s tail would see the weapon abandoned to the creature’s flesh, hoping this would buy him enough time. The Drykas man kicked away from his attacker, desperate for breath and liberty; he took shelter under the wagon, still clutching his father’s weapon. The gap between the wooden floor of the cart and the sandy riverbed was too shallow for the drunkard to squeeze into, but would he have the strength to lift it?

A hollow between two, thick beams on the bottom of the wagon where the man found an air-trap offered his second chance at life and as Dravite filled his lungs he planned his next move, taking the hunting knife from his belt; expecting the Dhani to try and feel around for him, ready to defend himself. He kept the spear close in case the wagon was overturned, but until he knew exactly where the river monster was, he didn’t dare move towards the front of the wagon where he planned to make his escape; not while he was protected and had enough air to think.

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[Ssenislin]

Another hiss, this one of pain, cut through the air as Dravite responded with remarkable speed given the very recent trauma. The Dhani snatched for his ankle but only got a boot for his efforts, which he promptly hurled against the water in frustration. Now the fleshling was holed up with his stupid pokey stick where he couldn't easily drag him out. With a loud splash and rocking waves rippling outward from him, Ssenislin threw himself beneath the river to spy his foe. Unfortunately for Dravite, the Dhani was made for life in water, and had more senses than touch to rely on. Even through the churning silt, he could still smell Dravite, taste his sweat, feel the burning heat radiating from the Drykas' terrified form trapped under the wagon like a mouse hiding in its burrow, waiting for the ferret to dig it out... He could smell blood. The Dhani's puils dilated slightly, the only thing stopping him from slipping entirely into his animal brain his relative safety. After a tick, he rose above the rocking water again. "Well played, human!" Ssenislin roared, grinning angrily. "You done good to pierce my hide, but you outta optionsss now!" With a cruel gleam in his eyes the Dhani swung his massive tail through the water, sending a modest wave washing through the wagon (and, very likely, the Drykas taking refuge beneath it.) "You can hide, but you gotta get out eventually! I know your kind freeze at night!" Ssenislin allowed himself a pleased chortle now, "Imma wait for you, oxss thief! Gon' wait 'til Caiyha makesssss you get out, then Imma take an arm for eacha my oxssen you cheated me out of!" With his vow issued, Ssenislin slipped into the water again and began to shift. If Dravite cared to watch, he would see the beast's arms fuse to his sides and his body thin out to the same girth as the Drykas' and thin out. When all was done, an anaconda almost long enough to wrap around the entire wagon hovered in the water, tongue flicking out rapidly to keep a bead on the warm body holed up, ready to pounce at the slightest movement. Ssenislin knew that in the war of attrition, he had the edge. The ache in his hide where the knife was still buried stoked his vindictive rage, kept it burning bright. Eventually, hypothermia would set in for Dravite while he could stay in the river nigh indefinitely. Humans hungered in hours, Dhani in days. He would wait for weeks if he had to. The instant the filthy human who so wounded his pride and flesh tried to escape, Ssenislin would see him crushed. Of course, Dravite wasn't completely out of options. In nature, there was always a clever solution, and for what it was worth Ssenislin could still hear and understand him. In addition, Dravite now knew what made him mad (besides the obvious). Either through wit or words, there was still a possibility that the Drykas' goose wasn't cooked quite yet.

[Dravite]

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Soon the adrenaline that fuelled survival mode in the man started to wind down, the river grew a degree or two cooler and the lost riding book left his bare foot cold and numb. Dravite kept wriggling his toes on both feet to try and keep them warm and every now and then when he thought it seemed safe enough to try and crawl out from under the wagon, something in the murky water would move and cause him to set the idea at the back of his mind for another half bell or so. The Dhani had been difficult to understand but Dravite had been able to make out one word, oxen.

His shoulders and neck felt sore from the strain of holding his head up out of the water, and where the Dhani had slapped him, the flesh still throbbed. Dravite had attempted once or twice to slip into the web and send a message home for help, but trancing was too dangerous and with his body unguarded and limp he would be easy pickings for the snake. The horse lord took a breath, held himself underwater and looked around through the haze of soot for the weapons he had lost; there was no sign of the steel dagger, but little more than an arm’s reach from him lay the hatchet he had lost, half buried in the sand that had settled.

Slowly he reached out to take the hatchet by the handle, making no sudden movements that might give away his actions. His fingers pawed at the very end of the tool, clawing at it in an attempt to bring it closer. As soon as he had half a grip, the man's lungs burned, reminding him to draw breath and he whipped the tool away from the riverbed to join him in what was sure to be his water tomb. There was barely enough room to bend a knee under the wagon, let alone swing his hatchet, but Dravite, who was tired of sitting in the water shivering, was growing desperate enough to try anything.

To strike a good enough swing up between the beams he had to take a breath, brave the water, and put enough energy into the swing to make a dent on the thinner planks of wood that the two beams supported. After a while, Dravite found that he could take at least three good swings at the wood before he needed another breath. Soon he had cut a piece out of one of the planks big enough to squeeze and arm through. He set his hatchet upon his chest and raised a hand to feel around on the other side of the wagon, finding that something smooth and round was stopping him from cutting away a second piece of plank. The horse lord hissed his frustration, and kicked at the underside of the wagon, yelling and calling out all kinds of curses regarding the creature that had put him in this situation.

"All right!" The watchman yelled after going quiet for a time; he could see no other way out of his currently predicament other than to try and come up with some sort of deal that would keep them both happy, after all the Dhani spoke common, so he must have some sense, "Dravite get oxen for Dhani."

Would that be enough, he wondered, and if so, how could he trust the snake not to attack him again? "Make deal!" Dravite called, "Dhani push wagon out river, Dravite bring oxen for trade."

Through the hole in the floor of the wagon Dravite couldn't tell if the sky had grown darker or if it was the rain clouds that lingered overhead. He waited for the snake-man's response, be it by word or action, the horse lord would no drop his guard.

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[Ssenislin]

As the bells wore on, it gave Ssenislin great pleasure to smell the human's warmth dim slightly. The Dhani's tongue flicked out again in anticipation of the desperation that would doubtless follow. "Soon..." Fortunately for Dravite, Ssenislin could physically see no further than the Drykas could, and so didn't notice the horse lord pawing for his hatchet. He did, however, hear the dull thuds of Dravite hacking through the wagon. This piqued the Dhani's curiosity, prompting him to stretch his neck out of the water just long enough to hear the Drykas begin his proposal. For a tick, Ssenislin stayed in that position like a periscope while he listened. A breath after he was done, the serpent tilted his head and started to widen and flatten out before Dravite's eyes. As his arms split off from his body like rising dough and his head rounded out and took on the shape of his Dhani form, a pleased cackle poured out of Ssenislin's mouth. "You'sss a clever one knowing your plasssce, little human!" he cawed. "Awright! I'll take your deal!" While his indignation over the dagger in his hide still lingered, there was one thing Dhani loved more than revenge, and that was food. "I'll let you get out." said Ssenislin as he drifted lazily to the bank opposite the Drykas' horse and let himself wash ashore. For the first time, the entirety of his bulk would be visible to Dravite. "You come to the river in two daysss with two oxen. And they better be big onesssss." The Dhani's voice grew more guttural at the tail end of his sentence, an element of menace creeping into his voice as he continued. "Don't you worry 'bout finding me. I got your sssscent."

[Dravite]

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The sight of the Dhani taking shape was enough to make his skin crawl, but Dravite would not look a gift horse in the mouth and shimmied out from under the wagon to run for the shore, collecting his boot that had washed up on the sand as he went. Dravite poured the water out of the riding boot and looked across the river to catch a glimpse of the creature whose image would be burned into his memory for many summers to come; never again would he consider swimming in the river without checking the water out first.

Dravite raced up over the rise in search of his mare, not sure how fast the giant Dhani was on land; he chose not to linger in the area too long. He ran down into the tall grass where his mare was grazing away happily as if he had only been gone a short while and by the time the man reached the animal his lungs were on fire. He climbed up onto her back; his legs and arms made of jelly and did his best to direct the animal towards home, though perhaps it would be wiser if he went in search of those oxen?

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