Conceptions (Bloodfight)

by **Razkar** on January 3rd, 2013, 3:00 pm

The sun waned in the sky until shadows lengthened beyond reckoning, and still they came across no deer. Razkar's heart grew harder and more set with every passing chime. He knew Zith could see well in the dark; they certainly didn't have a problem with it when they'd tried to kill him. Could the youth be buying time? Keeping Razkar sweet (well... comparatively) until night truly fell and he could strike?

When there is any doubt, there is no doubt.

The half-Zith heard the foreboding hiss of metal sighing on leather. Razkar's gladius was in his hand. His eyes looked more compassionate than the blade. The Myrian's arm darted out in a dark blur and gripped Bloodfight's shoulder from behind... his wounded shoulder.

"Taking long time," he said quietly, eyes making a show of moving around and seeing nothing, "And no deer. Night coming. Get dangerous, be out in Sea alone. So... where deer?"

Razkar did not care for excuses now; he was with, when all was said and done, an enemy. Someone who would betray him if the opportunity was there. He was under no illusions that some twisted "friendship" would be born from mistrust, fear and mutual dislike. The world was not that kind or friendly a place. But he was not a complete monster...

So this monster got one more chance. And then, one way or another, Razkar would eat.

"Well?" He said, knees bending just a little, ready to sway or dodge away from a strike should the Zith-thing make one, gladius horizontal and pointed squarely at the center of Bloodfight's back. "Where?"

by **Bloodfight** on February 5th, 2013, 4:51 am

Bloodfight audibly hissed, and loudly when the Myrian grabbed him by the wound in his shoulder, out of reflex he shot his hand up to grip the fools hand while he bent his body to the whim of which the Myrian was gripping him. Every muscle in his body spasmed in reaction, a twitch to his free arm, as his eyes dilated due to the pain to stare at him with a consuming hatred; he rasped out as best as he could, as sanely as he could
"You smell dirty! DIRTY Myrian creature. SMELL like prey," he scowled when he enounciated his words, lips turning into a grimace and somewhat bearing his own sharp teeth at the... the... the thing before him. Look like human, but not; something different, a Myrian or something or other. Whatever he was, it didn't matter "back track, deer there, but Bloodfight mixed by smells!"

He dug the claws into the hand lightly as his own warning, trying to tear the petching vice like hand off him; whether or not he did depended on the Myrian. It wasn't his fault that the silly Myrian smelled just like deer droppings, the very scent which started the distraction, and why Bloodfight had been caught off gaurd in the first place! Stupid Myrian! Stupid stick blades! Arrows! Whatever they were! Bloodfight pointed upwards to the sky, the quickly retreating sun an ever present reminder of how little time they had: more specifically how much longer Bloodfight had to live
"Light go down, dark come out, can Myrian see in dark? NO. Dangerous in dark, but find deer nested.. prey rest at dark. Stop moving" he pointed at the both of them now, "find deer in dark, much meat had."

Whether or not that would suffice for the Myrian, Bloodfight tensed himself in any way possible to begin his run and escape. Yet at such a close proximity.. Would he even make it a few feet away before being slaughtered from behind? The thought rose his warning meter, his mind working over time trying to be as diplomatic as he could be, he would not win this strenous battle of the mind with violence but perhaps the Myrian would win with such action. Bloodfight eyed the Myrian warily, taking in the appearence, and it suddenly occurred to him that this creature was shorter than himself and was acting like the alpha male- surely that couldn't be right? As size meant everything... Then the Myrian must be bluffing (however the constant reminder of the hand gripped on his shoulder said otherwise.)

Shrugging away with the strength he could muster, he began to back track and follow the trail they had so sluggishly created on their way to that point. Eyes always flicking behind himself to watch the Myrian carefully, his paranoia growing steadily as dark would prevade the skys, and even when he stooped low to check the trail, looking for hoof markings, and bends in the grass, sniffing the air and then towards the ground to get the stronger scent and was quite pleased with the progress he was making as the scent was definitely stronger this way than the other. Occasionally he would point with a finger and grunt out in an effort to sound convincing towards the trail they were following. The tension was thickening between the two.

They were so close, Bloodfight could feel it in his predatorial instinct that they were closing in on the animal they so tracked, at first the halfling had hardly noticed it was becoming a low light situation as his eyes adjusted easily with the change. He could smell water nearby but not so close as to draw unwanted predators to them, and the tracks seemed fresh as well, though there was a criss cross of bent grass. Bloodfight looked at it and thought for a moment on what that could possibly mean, blinking as he held a hand up to the Myrian and examined it: it came from a ninety degree angle so that it met perfectly with the other tracks and then curved inwards to follow them. Another scent mixed in with the preys, this one seemed dangerous.

The halfling pointed to it and let his clawed finger follow the direction it went, edgy now as he watched forwards, on total gaurd "look" He simply said, hoping that would get the Myrians attention.

oocI hope this is okay, if not, I can change it.. But heres my post finally. >.>;; I don't generally know what stalks plainsland but I figured since they were taking so long, another predator might have worked their way into the mix. If that is okay with you? Again, I believe I took many liberties in this post but I did so in hopes of moving the thread along.. >_<;;

"Zithanese"
"Common"
"Pavi"
Thoughts

by **Razkar** on February 5th, 2013, 11:27 pm

OOCNo problem, mate. The Sea of Grass is choked with predators, so it' not that unrealistic to assume the deer would attract other admirers. As far as taking liberties goes... nah. Not really.

For a long moment, Razkar just watched at the Zith... thing stomped off in a huff. A moment before he had been helpless and under his power with a gladius at his back, and now he was striding away (well, not exactly striding - a shoulder would will deflate one's cockiness, somewhat) with a fixed goal in mind.

The Myrian had to admire that. Death was staring the halfbreed in the face, and he did not yield, but pressed on. He sheathed his sword and muttered under his breath, following his reluctant guide.

"Maybe you'll survive this after all..."

For a time the only sound was there footfalls through the grass and the innumerabe subtle sounds surrounding them. Bird calls and snuffling things, strange bleats and growls from far away. And always the constant sighing rustling of wind through the endless grass... until the Zith stopped, just as sun had vanished under the horizon.

"Look."

Razkar did, crouching down and squinting hard at the ground the halfbreed pointed at. He could just make out the tracks crisscrossing each other, and ... yes... the grass bent and broken. The Myrian had to almost press his nose to the ground to see the outlines of the fresh tracks, smell the differing scents on each one.

"We are not only ones following deer..."

Another predator was after their prey, that much he could gleam. The Zith-thing seemed to understand that without being told. Then again, he could see in the dark, and Goddess alone knew how keen his senses must be. Razkar was always proud that compared to humans, Myrian senses were far more acute, but now he knew how those weaker bipeds felt around him.

Still crouching, Razkar turned his head up and thought on this new information. The sun was nearly gone and with it the light he needed. Not they; he. The Zith would be perfectly fine in the darkness, and what better time would he have to leave Razkar stranded? But there was still a hunt to be accomplished, and they both needed to eat.

The Myrian cursed softly and venomously in his own tongue.

Never a good thing to have to rely on someone.

"We keep following." He said, pointing to where the tracks led. "And we be careful, if another hunter is there. We take deer together, scatter nest of them. For that, we need both of us."

Without a word he reached into his healers kit and produced a roll of bandages. Then he extended his hand with the kit in it, leather strap first. Bloodfight just stared at it until Razkar gestured to his wound.

"Arrow need to come out. You want to bit on this. Believe me."

by **Razkar** on March 7th, 2013, 9:24 pm

OOCBloodfight had told me he won't be able to finish this off, so I'mma tie this loose end off...

Razkar turned his back on the wounded Zith to dig into his pack for his healing kit. Some of the salve he had might lessen the bleeding, and Goddess knew there'd be plenty of that once that arrow came out.

"You will have to-"

He turned with salve in hand and found he was speaking to the empty air. Not even the grass was stirring from wherever the Zith had vanished to. For a few moments the Myrian just stood there in stunned surprise. How... How had he moved so silently? And was he really that stupid?

The wound would turn, and he would lose the arm, if he was lucky. But Razkar didn't know ZIth; perhaps they could heal faster? Hells, they could grow back a whole new arm for all that he knew of their bodies. Slowly, the hand lowered, and astonishment was replaced by a cold, rising fury. Lips curled back to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth. His brow crushed his eyes and he glared at the grass to hotly it might alight-

"BASTARD!"

The word came out so loud and venomous that a flock of fowl half a mile away took to the skies in stunned fear. The explosion of noise was what Razkar need though, as he angrily packed his things and wheeled around.

Riverfall was rising like a shimmering marble mountain to the west, the sun dipping low behind it. If he double-footed it, as they said back in the Garrison, he would be there before darkness truly enveloped the Sea of Grass.

Cursing himself and all halfbreeds (well, save a couple), Razkar left his ruined hunt behind and started his way back to Riverfall.

"Pray we don't meet again, creature," he muttered to himself, words useless but certainly easing his wounded pride, "For on that day, I'll take a meal from your flesh to replace the one you took from me today..."

by **Magpie** on March 15th, 2013, 9:04 pm

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Razkar :

Bloodfight :

Notes :

If you have any questions or concerns about what was awarded, please don't hesitate to PM me.
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