Beasts of Prey [Miharu Mindi]

[Siiri]

70th of Spring, 510 AV

Somewhere near the Northern Pass...

As another clump of vines and leaves fell to the jungle floor, Siiri paused and wiped the sweat from her brow. She had been hacking through the jungle for the greater part of the day, clearing the old trails free of vegetation that had grown over the past year to allow ease of movement for the scouts and their leopardbreds, as well as for the tiger riders. Save for short breaks for meals and water, she’s not had any rest since daybreak and her weary muscles were protesting. Slayer’s keen blade may cut through any plant matter set against it but the greatsword’s weight still took a toll on the Myrian warrior’s arms after several hundred swings.

Beside her, Amir of the Patient Shadows was not much better off. An hour back in their progress, he had hung his greataxe on the loop at the top his pack specifically designed to hold the weapon and took up the much lighter twin handaxes. Noticing the lull in his partner’s efforts, the man halted his own and gave Siiri an inquiring look. She gave him the briefest of nods before dropping down into a tired crouch and taking a pull out of her waterskin. Amir gave two loud whoops, signaling the other nearby fangs of their halted advance as well as their general location, before moving to join her.

“Regretting you took up this assignment now?” he asked, drawing near her and modulating his voice just above a whisper to prevent the sound from carrying.

Siiri merely shook her head, too spent to formulate a verbal reply. The man was aware of her difficulties with her mother, which was the reason for Siiri taking on missions that took her farther and farther away from Taloba. Amir knew much about her, having been her confidant in their teenage years as well as her lover for a brief period of time. Siiri had moved on to other interests but she sensed Amir had not yet gotten over their previous liaison. He often expressed concern for her safety and well-being, so much that she felt it bordered on excessive. Worse, he requested to be transferred to her fang, even though he was experienced enough to lead one of his own. Now he had to kowtow to Eena (who was leading the other half of the fang in another location and was not around at the moment) and to her co-leader in training, Siiri.

Not that he seemed to mind when he was serving under her. He must enjoy moments like this when he thought they were actually alone. Siiri tried not to roll her eyes. She hoped he would not bring up anything awkward while they were on duty. She'd hate to have to tell him off in the middle of dangerous territory.

Fortunately, she did not have to.

A mad cackling erupted from a tree behind them as another of their fang made an appearance and landed lightly on a thick branch. Garou was a grizzled veteran from the Slitted Throat clan, short and stocky but agile as a jaguar. He served as a sort of guide for Siiri, teaching and mentoring her how to lead her men. He would offer sage advise when asked but often deferred decisions to the Myrian woman unless she consulted him. Occasionally, like now, he would also offer barbed jabs at her expense.

“Tired already, kiddies?” Garou cackled again but it ended in a coughing fit which he punctuated with a throat-clearing noise and a loaded spit to the side. He continued as if nothing happened. “Not thinking of cuddling up on them leaves over yonder, are ye?”

More cackles, coughs and spits ensued. Siiri rolled her eyes then but she felt Amir draw back, perhaps embarrassed by the crass man's comments. She picked up a small stone and hurled it at the impish Garou. He caught the projectile without even looking then threw it right back, beaning Siiri right on the forehead. She rubbed it in irritation.

“You need to pay more attention, girlie,” the doughty man said, his tone suddenly serious.

Siiri cocked her head, expecting a lecture from the man, but none was forthcoming. A chime passed, then two, but Garou did not speak. “What?” Siiri pressed him.

“Listen,” he said, pointing a finger up in the air. As he did so, two more of their companions, Onna and Kai, appeared on branches of different trees, both wielding bows, arrows nocked and ready. The expressions they wore were intense, battle-ready even.

Concerned, Siiri concentrated on the ambient sounds around her. Now that Garou had pointed it out, she could identify a faint sound that seemed alien to their surroundings: voices. She could not make out any words, too far was its source, but there were occasional neighing that accompanied it – noises no leopardbred would make when traversing the deadly Falyndar jungle. Whoever made those noises were not Myrians. That meant only one thing.

They were trespassers.

None of the other nearby fangs had given any signal for hostiles. That meant their group was the first to discover these interlopers. They had the privilege of taking care of them. Siiri eyed each of her men for the briefest of moments, the look conveying a message that needed no words.

There will be a hunt.

Siiri stood and raised her hands at the side of her mouth, uttering a shrill ayiiee-ayiiee-ayiiee, the Myrian animal signal that meant three things: intruders, hunt, and meat. She pointed to where the sound had come from and together, she and her fang plunged through the thick vegetation, silent as death.

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu had been following the hunting party for the better part of a month. It was easier with someone else to break the trail, another group who knew where they were going - but she was not stupid enough to join them. No, she trusted no one, hadn't for some time, and besides that she didn't like the look of them. They smelled of sour ale at times, of greed and some overwhelming dishonesty that she couldn't have explained in human words. There were sounds for such things that lay on the wolf's tongue, an instinctual understanding, but there was no other to share this warning with. So she simply jogged along behind them, the strap of her pack gripped loosely in her jaw, and followed that dicey stench.

As the landscape changed, she found herself a bit ill-equipped for this heat. She fur began to molt, shedding the thick undercoat as she moved further south, leaving patches of silvered hair against trees and fallen logs as she rubbed against them in an attempt to relieve herself of the burden of heat.

Black-furred ears perked up, though, as she caught some strange sound on the wind - a yipping noise, and though it mimicked some bird's call her sharp senses picked up the blur of tongues in it, and she suddenly crouched down. Hunters! her instincts screamed, and within moments she slithered off the trail and began circling the pack train on the far side of the cry, making sure to place the humans between herself and whatever came for them. She suspected what it might be - or rather, who it might be. Myrians, those rumored cannibals, savages by all accounts, but with any luck they would be satisfied with the idiot humans who were trespassing.

Not that she wasn't trespassing, but she was at least smart enough not to bother bringing a damned horse into the jungle.

She slithered through the thick underbrush of the jungle, waxy leaves instead of needles, easier for it since they didn't get caught in her newly sleek fur. South, a little more south, until she caught sight of the hunter's train. Then she tucked her pack under a gnarl of root and pissed on the tree so she could find it later, then settled down to watch the show.

[Siiri]

Endian jumped at the piercing shrieks that emanated from the trees. The damned wildlife in these parts made him uneasy. They were too noisy for comfort, and one never knew how near or how far they were until one stepped on their tails, paws, horns, or whatever the the hell one can step on. They're weird creatures too; how can anything live in a place so hot and humid and full of nasty insects that stung and bit and sucked one's blood out? Who would willingly enter such a place anyway? There was nothing in it but stupid animals and boring trees! Needless to say, Endian hated coming in the Falyndar jungles.

It was only his second time to enter the place, his first having been with a different group of bounty hunters than this one. They had been tasked to collect a particular plant for a wealthy sage back then. An easy task, since they were able to gather specimens of it just a mile after going through the Northern Pass. They didn't come across anything more threatening than a troop of howler monkeys then. They didn't encounter any of the natives called... what were they called again? Marins, Marods, Marings? Morons, more likely!

Endian ignored the tales he's heard of man-eating giants that stalked the jungles. Old wives' tales, those! Not having seen one before, he imagined the locals to be no taller than his waist, utterly black and ugly as an ape, with no knowledge as to how a civilized human should live. With any luck, his group won't run into those runts. He'd hate to have to stain his blade with their dirty, disgusting, jungle-stinking blood. He just wanted to catch his prey and be done with the place. In and out, quick as lightning. He wished those escaped slaves would just show up already.

He and his group six bounty hunters had been chasing those two, a male and a female, for the greater part of the month. How they lived off the land, he'd never know, but his tracker had pointed them heading directly south to the jungle, perhaps hoping to lose them in the thick vegetation. They were deluding themselves; they would be lost and confused wandering such an unfamiliar place whereas Endian had employed the best men for the job of hunting them down. Nothing would get by them! Motioning his men to follow, Endian urged his horse through the underbrush, ripping through leaves and vines and shoots and shrubs.

Endian and his men found themselves in a clearing, their quarry right in front of them, though the two escapees had their backs turned to them. They seemed to be retreating from the imposing figure of... a woman?

---------------------o--------------------

Siiri alone had taken the direct route towards the intruders, having ordered Amir to circle round back and secure the enemy's rear. Garou and the others shadowed their pace up in the trees, acting as eyes and keeping the team correctly oriented towards their destination. The Myrian warrior had expected her men to warn her of the invaders' approach but apparently, two had slipped through their vigilance.

Or Garou is playing games again.

Her initial reaction was to think them as forward scouts, sent to investigate the area before calling the main group. She almost dispatched them with a hurled dagger to each of their throats but changed her mind after a closer inspection. Both appeared worse for wear and it seemed as if they've not had a decent meal in weeks. The man had many a mark of the whip on his bare back while the woman still had a manacle on one of her wrists.

Slaves, Siiri spat. Who would keep a sentient being under servitude against their will? The fiercely independent woman found the mere notion of it disgusting.

Both man and woman took on a look of pure terror as they almost barreled onto her. They halted their stride in mid-charge upon sight of her and began to back away slowly, hands raised in a sign of pacification, eyes as large as fruits of the Mikmik tree. Siiri was about to question the reason for their presence in the jungle when another group, horse-riders this time, burst through the foliage.

And these would be the slavers.

Two plus the seven new arrivals made nine. The afternoon suddenly became interesting. Her previous lethargy gone, Siiri spoke, addressing both slavers and slaves. “What do you do here in Myri's jungles? Speak now, I give you only this chance.”

---------------------o--------------------

Endian eyed the woman. Was this one of the fabled... Myri... Myrians? So he was wrong in his previous assumptions. This one was a fine specimen, tall, and curved in the right places from what he could see from her skimpy outfit. Perhaps a shower or two to rinse the dirt caked in those horrid cornrows of hers and she'd be fit enough for him to bed. Endian leered lustily at her. He would have to capture this woman, impose his will upon her for a time before selling her off at the block. She'd make a mighty fine slave with her strength, if she could indeed wield that enormous greatsword strapped at her back. Her looks weren't shabby either, nevermind the ugly red scar.

The bounty hunter considered his options. This native would know at least some form of fighting, being so confident as to order him and his men around like that. Still, he had the edge here and it was foolish of her to try and speak from a position of power. They were seven and she only the one. He doubted the slaves would help her if he ordered his men to attack her en masse.

He decided. The Myrian would join the other two slaves on their trek back to civilization. And he would keep her to himself for a time, enjoy her until he grew bored. Perhaps this native had some spice in her he hasn't encountered before. Endian grinned lasciviously. As he motioned for three of his men to advance, two of his best fighters to flank the savage and another to retrieve the slave couple, he noticed the woman focus her attention to him.

“I ask one last time. Say what you do here, now.”

Her tone gave no room for discussion but Endian wasn't planning to, anyway. He just had to keep her eyes on him long enough for his men to get close and nab her. What a fine prize she would make!

“Easy now! We came all the way here to visit your, err...lovely jungle to see beauties such as yourself. I never knew the natives here were so pretty,” Endian said soothingly, trying to placate the woman. He flashed her his patented smile, a roguish grin that had charmed many a tavern wench to sneak into his bed at night and part with their knickers. All the while, his men edged closer and closer towards her.

If Endian thought he could distract the woman, he was sorely mistaken. She pierced one of the approaching men with a glare so fierce it halted him dead on his tracks momentarily. “You will stop there,” she ordered. When the man did not comply, her lips thinned into a straight line. It seemed she had reached the limit of her patience. A slight wave of her hand had all three of the men dropping to the ground, senseless. If one looked closely, they would see small poisoned darts protruding from the back of men’s necks.

But Endian did not see this. His eyes bulged in alarm as he watched his men toppled. The woman must be some sort of witch! No weapons have been drawn yet and already he’s lost almost half his men to her foul magic, and those were the better fighters to boot! Drawing his longsword in panic, he pointed its tip at the woman.

“Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!” he screamed at his remaining men.

---------------------o--------------------

Siiri grinned at the ridiculous expression on the slaver leader’s face as his men collapsed but there was no warmth in her smile, only cold and merciless viciousness, a predator’s grin. She drew forth Slayer and charged at the man, barreling through the dumbstruck slaves, elbowing the male across the face and laying the female low with a brutal punch. Already worn and weary from ordeal of their flight, coupled with the strength behind the Myrian’s blows, the slaves’ legs buckled, both unconscious before they hit the ground. Despite her efforts, Siiri hardly slowed. She was fully focused on the man with the foolish grin. She’s decided that he will die first.

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu watched the proceedings, wondering that these supposed-hunters were stupid enough to think the Myrian woman alone. Could they not sense the eyes in the trees? She couldn't tell how many, but she knew they were there - some spiced scent that clung to their skin, sweat that was not-quite-human though they looked about right, just darker.

When the violence started, she slithered closer to the group of them, circling a little so she came up behind the now unconscious slaves. The Myrian woman would kill the leader, of that she could be certain, and she was quite sure there were enough people in the trees yet to take care of the three men at his back. Slaves, poor things, and running to the least-likely place for shelter they could have. Then again, she was here.

So she crouched just behind them, buried in the foliage, the black tips of her fur blending seamlessly with the shadows though her golden eyes would surely make themselves known once all the madness was done. Perhaps these Myrians would have mercy on the slaves - she wasn't sure, but she would do her best to see that they were not slaughtered for simply wishing for freedom.

[Siiri]

Siiri dodged to the left as the leader of the slavers overcommitted a downward chop intended to cleave her skull in twain. The man was foolish, thinking himself safe astride his horse. While it gave him the advantage of elevation, thus providing greater weight to his blows, all Siiri saw of it was that it limited his mobility and divide his concentration as he fought and directed the horse where to go at the same time. She did not know what kind of fighting style they had up north but she didn't care much for the man's swordplay or his mount.

Bracing herself on her right foot, Siiri swept her greatsword down and outwards, shearing the front legs of the man's horse from behind. Man and beast cried out at the same time, the former in terror, the latter in pain as it crashed uncontrollably to the ground. But Siiri was not done yet. She allowed the momentum of her swing to continue, shifting her arms high to spin the weapon above her. As she completed the move, Siiri executed another horizontal slash, this time aimed at a specific body part of her enemy. The man's sword flew, along with the rest of his arm, as her strike severed it just below the elbow. The slaver leader screamed as he clutched the stump near his chest, his lifeblood spurting from the wound, spraying his struggling horse and the Myrian that maimed them both.

Siiri turned away from him then, knowing he was out of the fight and would bleed to death, focusing instead on his remaining men. One was already howling his lungs out in agony, a throwing axe embedded on his thigh. He jerked suddenly as the head of Amir's greataxe peeked from between his ribcage. He slid to the ground with a look of stunned disbelief on his face, his mouth still open in a silent scream.

Another sat limply on his horse, his neck a bloody mess as three arrows coming from different directions shredded the flesh around it, almost parting his head from the rest of his body. His horse began to buck from sensing the absence of its rider's hands on the reins but Amir was quick to jump in and control it.

The last man, practically a boy with hardly a hair on his chin, had managed to dismount and was even now backing to a tree. He was swinging his sword wildly in front of him in an attempt to ward off the Myrians. Siiri made for him as Amir took to gathering the remaining horses. Garou and the two archers were nowhere to be seen and Siiri had to wonder briefly what game the older warrior was playing now by not killing the boy outright.

“Keepawaykeepawaykeepaway,” he squeaked at high speed. A wet patch on his trousers told all that he'd lost control of his bladder at the very beginning of the fight. As he glanced upon the carnage wrought by the Myrians upon his companions, a pungent smell wafted in the air. Siiri scrunched her nose as she realized the boy just shat in his pants. “I'll tell you why we're here! Please, just don'tkillmedon'tkillmedon'tkillme!”

“Too late for that now.” Despite the smell, Siiri approached him without hesitation. As she came within range, the boy lunged wildly at her with his sword. She blocked it one-handed with Slayer then reversed direction and stabbed him in the gut with it. The whites on the boy's eyes showed as his eyes widened. His weapon fell to the ground from nerveless fingers. “You do not come into Myri's lands not expecting violence to be met with violence.”

The boy nodded, slowly. Siiri thought he was past the point of understanding, merely reacting to by instinct. She continued, her tone neutral, as if explaining a simple fact to a child. “Who lives and dies here is not up to you.”

Keeping one hand on Slayer, practically holding the boy up on the weapon's blade, Siiri pulled out one of the daggers strapped to her hips and incised a long line just below the boy's ribcage. Resheathing the dagger, she plunged her hand inside his body and pulled out a pulsating organ. The boy's eyes widened even further as Siiri showed him his still beating heart.

“A small one,” she commented. “You are not even fit for eating!”

But the boy could not hear her any more.

---------------------o--------------------

“You bloody bitch!” Endian screamed, his words slurred. He had managed to stand up and pull out the dagger hidden in his boot, though he wasn't sure if he did those things in that order. He was delirious from loss of blood. But more importantly, he was pissed to have lost his men and his slaves. All because of this stupid female savage! She had cost him money and he will make her pay. Nobody messed with Endian!

“I'm going to kill you, you ignorant, uncivilized jungle trash!”

Endian hefted the small blade, prepared to hurl it at the woman.

[Miharu Mindi]

The man managed to raise his remaining arm above his head. Which was good, since it left a clear path to his throat.

Miharu had seen what he meant to do when he staggered to his feet, and she sprang from her crouch and straight for him. Powerful hind legs propelled her forward, a black-tipped blur of silver that shot across the clearing.

A fierce, satisfied growl poured out of her throat as she slammed into him. Teeth ripped open his wrist down to the bone, severing muscle and tendon and sending the dagger spinning off into the bushes. Endian gave another scream of pain and fright as the full weight of her body drove him to the ground. One eyeblink, and she sank her teeth into his throat and savaged it. Blood poured and spurted over her muzzle, hot and metallic on her tongue, heavenly, everything she craved at the end of a hunt.

She padded a few steps back as he thrashed and gurgled, drowning in blood that knew no straighter route than the one to his lungs. But Miharu realized what that meant for her, and she glanced up to find dark eyes upon her. Her body sank instinctively lower to the ground, crouching as a warning growl rumbled through her chest - no threat, simply a warning, a testing to see whether the next arrow would be meant for her.

But even in this sudden tension she knew which one was the alpha of this pack, and golden eyes lifted to meet Siiri's.

[Siiri]

She turned at the sound of the man's voice, dropping the boy's heart and pulling her greatsword up in a ready position in one swift motion. She was prepared to deflect the dagger should he throw it, maybe even fling one of her own at him. But such actions were not necessary as the silver form of a large canine blasted the man to the ground. The beast of prey easily overpowered him, ending his life with a savage bite on the neck.

It happened so fast that Siiri did not have time to react. Next thing she knew, the wolf was crouched low to the ground, seemingly preparing to spring at the first sign of aggression towards it. She nodded at the creature, meeting its amber eyes.

“Caiyha bless you, Sister Wolf,” she said tentatively in the Myrian tongue, invoking the Nature goddess's name. Sheathing her weapon, Siiri held a hand up and hoped her words would soothe the creature to docility. She had no desire to kill the beast. Perhaps it was merely hungry and wanted to join in their hunt. Still, she nervously fingered the hilt of one of the daggers strapped at her hips as she glanced about, searching for the rest of her fang.

“Garou, where are you?! Snake spit, you're supposed to be watching my back!” Siiri intoned in a loud whisper. Amir caught her eye and indicated the trees to her right. True enough, the older warrior was there, hanging off a branch upside down by his knees, arms folded across his chest. He had that annoying grin plastered on his face. Onna and Kai were nearby as well, though their expressions were grim, their bows aimed at the lupine creature.

Garou, naturally, was cackling. Again.

“What's the matter, girlie? You seem to be in good hands.” He pointed at the wolf. “That there beastie ain't from these parts. See the pelt? Too thick for our jungle here. Ye only see those kinds from up north. Now I never seen me no lost wolf before so that must be somethin' else.”

Siiri eyed the wolf. The man had a point. The creature seemed too intelligent to be a mere beast. Was it one of those Kelvic man-beasts or was it a magic user in animal form? There was only one way to find out.

Deciding to take a risk, Siiri signaled the archers to stand down as she strode forward towards the wolf. In her peripheral vision, she caught Amir tensing as if about to react but apparently suppressed the urge, opting to stay quiet.

“I thank you for your assistance in taking care of the intruders,” she stated in the common tongue. If Garou was correct in what he had implied, the creature should shift to its humanoid form to respond to her.

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu stayed where she was, though her eyes followed whichever one of them was talking. The cackling madman hanging from the trees got a long look, and her tongue flickered out to lick some of the blood from her muzzle.

But finally the arrows were lowered, and the woman stepped forward and said words she recognized, and so black-tipped ears swiveled forward. She tensed a little when Amir did, but he was not the alpha, and after a moment her haunches settled again.

She gave a sharp sniff, and then her body dissolved in a mini-hurricane of swirling lights. A thousand pinpricks of radiance danced for a moment, and then reformed into Miharu's human form.

Hard to tell how tall she was since she remained crouched out of respect to the alpha, but what could be seen of her body was all milk-pale skin and muscle, powerful thighs and well-toned arms. She looked to be maybe 17, some stop between teenager and adult, with a face was too sweetly pretty to be called beautiful. Long hair the color of cornsilk tumbled around her shoulders in fits of tiny knots and braids, unkept on the journey south.

Golden eyes remained the same, though, too-wide for that sweet face, lending an innocence to them that she might not otherwise possess. Suspicion and caution remained as well, narrowing them as she glanced up at Siiri once more.

"It was my pleasure," she murmured, blood still splashed across her lips and dripping across the pale expanse of her breasts. "Thank you for not counting me an enemy. I had heard that there was some... safety... to be found among the Myrians." The hesitation, and the sour smile that flickered in one corner of her mouth, made that word almost a joke in present company - she was not unaware of how stupid that phrase sounded when speaking of anything but Kelvics.

[Siiri]

The creature's transformation took but a second and then Siiri was gifted with the sight of its human form. It had the features of a woman-child, with skin almost as pale-white as the fur of her wolf form, and her hair blond, a shade no Myrian possessed. The pale locks framed a face that, even when expressionless, was innocent-sweet. Her build was lean and cut – a runner's body, a hunter's – and Siiri took a moment to admire the alabaster sculpture before her. She assumed the woman was Kelvic. The shape shift was too fast for it to be anything else. And besides, no mere human could bear the thought of standing around naked before strangers.

“There is safety for those who know how to keep themselves safe,” the Myrian said at length, meeting the wolf-woman's golden eyes once more. She gestured at the slain men. “You are not with these outsiders, I take it? Entering Myri's jungles by ones such as they does not guarantee this thing you call 'safety'. You are with those they hunt perhaps?”

Siiri doubted she belonged to either group but it was still her duty to ask. While the Kelvic proved to be no enemy, she has yet to show that she could be considered a friend. Still, respect must still be given and manners maintained. Siiri stooped to retrieve the slaver leader's heart, but unlike how she did it with the boy, Siiri went straight for it by prying open a couple of the corpse's ribcage with her dagger. The heart had stopped beating of course, but it was still fresh and warm.

“As a fellow hunter, I cannot deny you your kill,” Siiri offered the bloody organ to the wolf-woman. “Take your prize and his strength and skill.”

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu's lip curled at mention that she might be with the slavers in any way, but other than that she didn't move. Not a muscle, barely a blink of an eye, for she still had yet to receive permission to do so. And there were enough eyes and arrowheads pointed at her to keep her frozen.

Amber eyes grew thoughtful, though, when the heart was offered to her.

"I am not with them, no, neither the hunters nor the prey. I have followed them simply because it was easier to press through a trail once broken." She paused, and a lock of that pale hair slithered across her collarbone as she lowered her head a fraction of an inch. And then, painfully slowly, she rose to her feet, cautious eyes flickering to her packmates.

It was true, she had no care for her own nakedness, and as she stretched to her full height it was only a finger's-width shorter than Siiri herself. A hunter's body, even this human form, and she reached out a slow hand to take the heart. But still wolf, for her head ducked sideways cautiously, ever trying to keep an eye on those around her. Shuffling steps, not from fear but from instinct, and she grasped the bloody organ. It was devoured in five quick bites, swallowed quickly lest the sweet taste of the meat distract her from her own safety.

When it was finished, she shuffled away from Siiri out of respect of her own space, one step sideways and another back. "Thank you," she murmured, bright eyes glued to the alpha once more. "I would sue for welcome in your lands if I knew how. Safety, well, I shall do for myself or not."