Pursued: Captured

Maolsek wasn't keeping track of the days anymore. All he knew was that there was an eriant thread attached to his heart, and he intended to follow it to its other end. He missed Zyrda, he missed Vaokes, he missed all the other friends he'd come to have over his many years, but most of all he missed Shynvera. He missed holding him in his arms at night, he missed their quiet, serene moments, he missed the passionate moments - everything.

 

He sighed, looking out over the forest ahead from atop a hill. Beyond, the thread led him. He would need to cut through the forest, or else spend what he estimated would be another week to go around it if he wished to avoid its dangers. He shook his head, sending his long purple-black hair waving. He could fight, and fight well, and he'd made it this far alone already. Whatever threats he might face in the forest, he was sure he would come out alright.

 

He descended the hill with care, and pressed on into the trees.

 

-

 

Night seemed to fall faster from underneath the canopy of leaves. Maolsek didn't mind; his night vision was better than average. Still, it was getting a little cold for his taste, so he hurried to collect enough wood for a campfire and find a space to settle for the night. It all took the better part of an hour, but once he got the fire crackling, he pulled a pan and trail rations out of his pack, and heated up a late dinner.

 

After eating, he spent some time meditating, wanting to be sure again of the direction he was heading in. The thick trees, the dappling of light, and the winding paths through the brush all made it easy for him to get turned around, but as long as he had the eriant string as his trail, he was sure he could make it through without too much trouble.

 

Once satisfied, he curled up on his bedroll with his back to the fire and drifted off to sleep.

 

He awoke some hours later, and saw that it was still dark. He frowned, sat up, and looked about. Had something woken him? He peered up at the branches, and then through the underbrush. Seeing nothing with his physical sight, he overlaid his aura vision. Not far, perhaps fifty paces, he estimated, were a pair of oddly-shaped auras side by side.

 

They were too complex in color and arrangement to be any animal. That left either other Drakiri, which he doubted, or humans, which he'd had the misfortune of learning were almost never a good sign when out in the wilderness. Erring on the side of caution, he calmly turned and doused the fire, then rolled up his meager bedding and stuffed it into his pack.

 

And then he ran.

 

He ran for what felt like half an hour, darting nimbly between trees and through brush, caring not for the leaves and twigs that clung to him. Finally, he clambered up one large tree and perched on the highest branch that would support his weight, and turned to face the way he'd come so he could watch to see if he was, in fact, being followed. On several occasions, he thought he'd heard movement behind him, but every time he'd looked back, there was nothing but flora.

 

He remained in the tree, his long tail wrapped around the branch as a precaution against falling, and waited.

 

He didn't need to wait very long. He spied the pair of auras again, but they stopped and seemed to search for him. One appeared to point in his direction. He squinted, trying to make out what the blotchy colors were forming, then saw what seemed to be a fist pull back. Eyes widening, he unwrapped his tail from the branch and scrambled over to the next branch that took him to the side of the tree that offered protection - and just in time, because an arrow whizzed behind his back and embedded into a branch in the next tree over.

 

Maolsek balanced carefully on the narrow branch he now stood upon, his back against the thick trunk, and thought about what to do next. He didn't want to lead the human hunters to wherever Shynvera was, so he couldn't keep following the thread, but at the same time, it was going to be difficult to circle back and try to take the hunters by surprise, and more of a hassle to try and lose them in the forest where they probably had the lay of the land better memorized than himself. There was also no way of knowing if they carried enchanted gear. But, it did look like there were only the two hunters, for now.

 

The branch began to creak. He leapt across to the next tree and crouched on its thick branch, wobbling the entire limb and sending three birds flying off its end. Careful to keep the trees themselves as barriers between himself and his pursuers, he bounded from branch to branch, and began his long route of circling back.

 

At one point, he noticed they'd reached the tree he'd first stopped in, and were investigating the thin claw marks he'd left in its trunk when he'd clawed his way up to the first branch. He made his way back down to the ground, careful not to make a sound this time, then set his pack down. He marked the location in his mind, and just hoped he could find it again once he was done with the hunters.

 

He cautiously stalked towards them, keeping under cover as best he could, and watched his footing so he didn't do something unfortunate, like step on a twig to alert the hunters of his approach. The humans had moved on a ways, trying to trace Maolsek's trail through the treetops, but they were slow going.

 

Eventually, Maolsek caught up. His heart beat faster as he neared. He found cover behind a thick bush, just paces behind the hunters - now the hunted - and his muscles tensed, preparing to spring. He leapt.

 

The first hunter went down with a shriek. Maolsek bashed him hard enough on the back of the head to knock him out, then turned on the other, who was just drawing her long, thin sword.

 

The other hunter kicked up dirt at Maolsek with a fair bit of force, and blew a silent whistle before closing in with her sword. She waited to see if Maolsek would attack first, ready to parry and counter.

 

Maolsek backed up to avoid the worst of the dirt flying at his face, and his long ears flicked back. Registering the whistle, he wasn't about to wait for reinforcements, and decided to make the fight a quick one. He attacked first, coming in with a claw swipe, and when the hunter parried like he predicted, he dropped to avoid the counter swing, braced upon one arm, and lashed out with his leg to try and sweep the woman's leg out from under her.

 

The woman jumped over the leg sweep and made to slash at Maolsek's legs, hoping to keep him from running even if he did manage to defeat her.

 

Maolsek dodged the slash and countered with a tail swipe aimed at the woman's side.

 

The woman met the swipe with her sword, letting the momentum of Maolsek's tail bring it into hard contact with the blade's edge as she braced herself against the impact.

 

The sword cut deep, eliciting a hiss, but Maolsek bore through the pain and wrapped the remaining length of his tail around the sword hilt and yanked towards himself. He readied a fist to slam into the hunter's face.

 

The hunter ducked down and pulled out a combat knife with one hand, and made to punch Maolsek in the gut with the other.

 

Maolsek nimbly backpedaled, then freed the sword from his tail and lunged forward to stab at the woman.

 

The woman moved to the side and made to stab at the hand Maolsek was using to hold her sword, while keeping her other hand free in case she needed to deflect or parry something.

 

Maolsek twisted his hand to parry the knife, then aimed a swift kick at the hunter's gut with his long leg.

 

The woman ducked and rolled under him, then spun to stab his back, though given momentum and angle was unable to aim for a paralyzing strike.

 

She seemed to have forgotten about Maolsek's prehensile, muscular tail, because she got a hard knock in the side for her efforts when he spun to face her, sending her stumbling off to the side. Maolsek pressed his advantage and closed in first with a two-handed slash, then a high spin kick.

 

The slash connected, spilling blood, but then she rolled away and made to ram her knife into the calf of the leg he was still standing on.

 

She got more tail instead of leg, but it did sink deep into the black flesh. Adrenaline was all that kept Maolsek from backing up to tend to the injury, and his tail swept away, knife still embedded, thus disarming the hunter. Since she was still on the ground, he attempted to return the favor by slashing at her left hamstring. However, he knew he was also short on time - whatever reinforcements the woman had signaled for were likely closing in.

 

He turned, leaving the woman behind and without weapons (or so he assumed), and went after the other hunter who still lay on the ground. He snatched up the bow, snapped it in two, then fled back into the trees.

 

A dart nicked his shoulder as he fled, but was ultimately the most shallow of the injuries he received from that skirmish.

 

Maolsek ignored it for now, though he knew what dangers such a dart might pose, and hurried back to where he thought he dropped his pack. It took him some minutes to locate it, the scenery looking very different when going the opposite direction, but eventually, he did come upon it. He took a few moments to sit down and pull the knife out of his tail, hissing in pain as he worked it free, and then did his best to heal it with what little magic he could command.

 

Both wounds in his tail became shallower, but he still had to bandage them to keep from leaving drops of blood in his wake. He cleaned both stolen blades, stowed the knife in his pack, and secured the sword to the outside of the pack with one of its many straps. He rose, picked a new direction, and ran off once more, choosing to take the most meandering path he could manage without ending up doubling back. By the time he got moving, though, his left shoulder had gone slightly numb where the dart had struck.

 

The weather itself seemed inclined to both help and hinder, as with a startling crack of thunder, it began to downpour, the darkening clouds having been hidden by the forest canopy.

 

The rain, Maolsek could deal with, but the variety of hidden traps scattered throughout the forest was another matter. The first trap he stepped into was a pitfall, the ledge of which he narrowly caught, saving him from a fall to a dug-out floor deep enough down that even he wouldn't have been able to leap out of. He dug his clawed toes into the wall and pulled himself up, the mud not making the task any easier.

 

He moved on, only to run into another trio of hunters who must have been coming to check what their trap had snared. This time, he recognized more of their specialized gear, and rage took over. He killed one of them, severely disabled a second, but only managed to knock out the third after another one of those silent whistles was blown. He looted or destroyed what of their gear he could, then ran on once more.

 

Poachers, he thought to himself, the word little better than a curse in his mind. But, if there were poachers in the forest, that must mean there were more Drakiri in the area. That meant potential allies, but also meant he could bring danger to them if he wasn't careful about the trail he left behind.

 

That set the theme for the day, with Maolsek on alert for traps and managing to evade them, destroy them, or disarm them wherever he could, or encountering the stray poacher or two and ending up in a scuffle. He killed whoever left themselves open to his attacks, believing these humans to be undeserving of mercy when their goals centered around slaying Drakiri and trafficking in their body parts.

 

The hours grew long, and the sky darkened, still pouring rain, so that no light filtered through the canopy. Even Maolsek had difficulty seeing clearly. So, believing his new enemies to be worse off in the dark, he sought out either a cave or a tree hollow he could take shelter in for a few hours.

 

While few humans were inclined to walk out in the rain after dark, the poor visibility made it unfortunately easy to get caught in a different snare - a rope hidden by some leaves tightened around Maolsek's ankle before he was hoisted up into the air by it, hanging from a tree. While not the most graceful thing to find oneself in, at least he could cut himself free - so long as he was careful about the fall down.

 

Maolsek hissed out a curse. He clenched his middle to draw himself up, then pulled one of his looted knives free of his pack and started sawing at the rope. In seconds, it was done, and he twisted his body midair to land on the ground on all fours. The impact jarred him, but he got up unhurt, gave the area a quick scan, then moved on, this time a little slower and a little more cautious.

 

There were a few more such snares, but they were able to be avoided with careful attention to the way the leaves lay on the forest floor. It wasn't until the sun wholly finished setting that Maolsek located a tree with a hollow large enough for him to rest in, and blessedly dry in its interior.

 

Dry enough, in any case. He crawled into the hollow for as deep as it allowed, then removed his pack and set it so the pointy objects were on the ground. He lay down on his side facing the opening of the tree, using his pack as a pillow, and shut his eyes to catch what sleep he could. He just hoped nature itself would protect him for a little while.

 

The downpour continued for most of the night, the rain only letting up shortly before dawn. As shafts of light from one of the suns breached the horizon, sky starting to take on purplish tints as dawn arrived, the sound of very quiet talking could be heard as two poachers examined something not all that far from Maolsek's resting spot.

 

Maolsek woke to the noise, sleeping lightly enough that the soft sounds were plenty to rouse him, and lifted his head. He pricked his ears up to listen even though his vision was still blurry.

 

"Wonder if there'll be more deaths," one poacher, a man, commented to the other. "We've lost half the trainees."

 

"The survivors have been recalled, so unless we're up against a Class C or above, I don't think we'll be sending home many more caskets," the other poacher, a woman, replied. "If it's a Class C, then Captain gets to crack out the heavy gear we brought in case the village guardians venture a little far from their walls."

 

"I don't like the thought of using those things, they're cruel."

 

"They're also the only shit that works once they start throwing lightning and fireballs at your face."

 

"Are we set to kill or capture?"

 

"Capture's still preferred, but we've got the go for killing if we're forced to in order to stay alive."

 

Village guardians? Heavy gear? What did they mean by 'Class C?' Maolsek wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up, and started to strap his pack back on. If he could turn the tables and capture one of the hunters, then perhaps he could learn more information. It seemed there were only two, but last night's run-ins taught him that that didn't necessarily mean he could take them both.

 

If he'd killed a handful of recruits, and others had been recalled, did that mean there were now fewer humans in the forest? He hoped that's what it meant. But, that could also mean that now more experienced hunters were about, which meant greater danger should he confront them. He would have to use stealth to handle them from now on, or hit-and-run tactics, and be more wary for tranquilizer darts and worse.

 

He laid aura sight over his normal sight and sought out the hunters' exact location, and, seeing they weren't very far, chose to remain huddled in the tree hollow until they were too far to hear his movements.

 

One of the hunters knelt by one of the leg snares Maolsek had stepped around last night. "Perceptive one, see the prints? Stepped right around the loop, all dainty."

 

"Better for it, I hate these things too. Must hurt like fuck."

 

"Oh, they do. Got caught in one myself once, when I was your age. It's not hard to escape if you keep your head and have a knife on you, so I doubt these will be doing more than slowing this one down. Only really holds the ones who can't free themselves."

 

"Do you think this one really might be a Class C?"

 

"Doubt it. More likely just a skilled Class D - it's not tossed about a single spell and doesn't seem stronger than human limits, going from reports. Lucky bastard."

 

Go away, Maolsek wished at them. They were much too close for comfort.

 

"Do the prints lead anywhere, or did the rain wash most of it?"

 

"They're muddled, but they go in that direction. Ready your crossbow and keep me in sight - leave the poison for emergency, go with the tranqs. It's more value alive and heal-able, the pelt's reported to be pretty unremarkable. The horn sheds and bones are what we're after, neither requires it to be dead."

 

"Avoid shattering bone too, then, got it."

 

Maolsek cursed to himself. Did his tracks lead straight to the tree? He couldn't remember if he'd continued running after evading that particular snare, or found the tree he now holed up in right after. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and decided on his next course of action. If he could get some distance between himself and the hunters, he might be able to double back on them and take them by surprise.

 

But first, he needed a distraction. He grabbed a nearby rock about the size of his palm, then threw it as hard as he could out of the hollow and into some high branches off to his left.

 

"Hear that?"

 

"Yes, stay put and listen, see if we can pinpoint it. And watch your back, it likes to ambush."

 

"Wonderful."

 

There was some additional rustling where the rock landed. Maolsek's ears flicked back. Looking in that direction with his aura sight, he noticed something else moving. Something large, and annoyed. He almost smiled to himself - he'd disturbed the local wildlife, and now it was coming his way. Any second, the beast would be in the hunters' view, and he had his distraction.

 

"It's...a saber. They're common as dirt in this place, got the right dose of tranq?"

 

There was a sound of the crossbow being fired, then, "Yes. Be ready, it'll take a bit for the dose to take effect, and it's not pleased."

 

"I wouldn't be pleased either if I had a massive dart in my neck."

 

"Would you rather I have used a javelin?"

 

"Pack hunters, keep an eye out for more."

 

"On it."

 

With the hunters' attention trained on the sabercat, Maolsek silently snuck out of the tree hollow, and crouch-walked in the opposite direction. There were some thick bushes not far that he could use to conceal himself - he just hoped neither hunter looked away from the animal and noticed him too soon. Please please please, he prayed to whatever force may listen.

 

The sabercat growled and sized up the two humans. The creature was larger than either of them, and its ears were flat back. It bared its teeth and prepared to lunge.

 

One human, the woman, drew what looked to be a polearm from where it rested on her back, and moved forward to place herself thoroughly between the sabre and her fellow poacher. The man backed up, pulling back his crossbow to ready another dart, carefully positioning himself so that the woman and sabre were in his view, while his back was up against a tree to minimize chances of being snuck up on - he listened carefully, in case there was something above that might want to pounce him.

 

The sabercat attacked.

 

Maolsek ignored the sounds of the ensuing fight and hurried on his way. He ducked behind the bushes, then turned and checked to make sure he wasn't being followed. Seeing the hunters thoroughly occupied, he allowed himself a small exhale of relief. He remained in a crouch, turned, and moved along to get more distance between himself and the hunters.

 

He found another tree to climb when he thought it was safe, and up he went. He climbed as high as the branches would support his weight, then once more switched to aura vision to survey his surroundings.

 

The numerous trees were the colorful equivalent of static, a constant low vibration that sometimes obscured the auras of creatures and people, but which he'd long learned to compensate for. He could spy birds, rabbits, and a handful of other small creatures nearby, and in the distance he could still see the hunters fighting the sabercat. Good, he thought, maybe it'll eat one of them.

 

For now, at least, he was alone, and safe in his perch. He decided to sit down and munch on some of his trail rations. He needed to keep his strength up if he was going to be fighting these people off for much longer.

 

Maolsek didn't have long to enjoy breakfast, as new voices were indistinctly heard further off, in a different direction than where he'd come from.

 

Stars, was this forest infested? Why was there such a force of poachers? Maolsek remained where he was and quickly scarfed down the rest of his meal, then crawled into a crouch in case he had to spring off the branch. He wrapped his tail around it for security. His long ears pricked up, turning this way and that, trying to pick up the exact source of the new voices and determine the words.

 

Eventually, the voices got loud enough to make out words.

 

"Combing this place in mud and barely existing light is not my idea of spending a morning."

 

"Night patrol wasn't able to do fuck because of the rain, and we can't just keep throwing trainees at this one and expect anything good to happen."

 

"If it insists on being difficult, I will stick it with a cocktail."

 

"Remind me not to ever be on the receiving end of your bad moods."

 

Cocktail? Of what? Maolsek shuddered. Why did so many people need to be so foul? He remained still on his branch and watched the hunters, and tried to determine if he could get the drop on them.

 

While the two hunters talked, when they came into view it was revealed that there were two more with them, just silent. Further away in another different direction, more voices came into hearing, though these ones soon faded away.

 

The poachers were on thorough patrol.

 

Better stay up in the trees, Maolsek decided. He watched the hunters below pass by, and then decided to head in the direction they were coming from in the hopes he'd find a big enough gap between their patrols to cut through. He nimbly leapt from branch to branch, the trees dense enough that he could move from one to the other without needing to go to the ground, and after about a half hour of this, he altered direction and began to follow his eriant thread again.

 

If the hunters spoke of a village, maybe that's where Shynvera was? If so, then the hunters already knew of its location, and Maolsek heading for it wouldn't tip them off about anything new. Getting too lost in thought, he missed his footing on one leap, and slipped. A sharp gasp and flailing through the air later, he caught the branch in the nick of time with his hand, but it groaned under his weight.

 

He grabbed it with his other hand and shimmied toward the trunk, but it began to give. Finally, not wanting to risk falling, he swung his body toward the trunk and let go of the branch, and dug all his claws into the bark. He slid down several inches, but it was better than a fifty-foot drop. He hugged the tree, and carefully descended down to the next nearest branch.

 

He didn't make the same mistake twice, and didn't allow himself to get caught up in memories again or thoughts of the future. He focused on the now, and on evading the hunters. With any luck, he would reach his destination before nightfall.

 

Eventually, he came upon a stream. He checked his canteen and, sure enough, it was almost empty. He sighed to himself. He really didn't want to risk descending, but without knowing how close to his destination he was, he also didn't want to risk going more than a day without water. So, after a thorough aura scan of the area to make sure no one was near, he descended.

 

He touched the soft ground, then made for the stream. He kept an eye on both his surroundings and the ground, not wanting to fall into any more traps, especially when he knew how likely they were to be around a water source. The humans weren't the only experienced hunters in the forest, after all.

 

Reaching the stream without issue, he pulled his canteen free of its pack, then knelt down to fill it.

 

Once full, he capped it, then stowed it back in his pack. He'd have to boil it before he could safely drink it, but first he needed to find somewhere he wouldn't be tracked easily. He returned to the trees and climbed up, then bounded from branch to branch along the thin shoreline in search of a cave or some other form of shelter.

 

While Maolsek did not find very many caves, and none of which with entrances that were big enough to really fit him, he did find that not even the trees were safe - a loop hidden on a branch he landed on tightened and hoisted him up, before he'd even had chance to finish steadying himself from the landing.

 

He hissed. Really?! He cursed in his head, but forced himself to calm even though his world went upside down for the second time in as many days. This time both feet were caught, right around the middle instead of the ankle, and he was sure the rope was going to leave ugly bruises. He heaved himself up like before, every muscle in his midsection tensing, and grabbed onto the rope that held him.

 

He pulled a knife out and began sawing away, and just hoped that he could still land on the branch below rather than falling what he guessed was about forty feet. The rope snapped and he held on with his other hand as his legs swung free, and he lined himself up with the branch below. He dropped, landed hard enough to shake the leaves, and rested for a moment.

 

He mentally kicked himself for forgetting that snares could be in trees, if the tree was arranged in such a way to allow for it. Still, it was safer than the ground, as he couldn't easily be tracked unless they had some kind of flying familiar.

 

The following handful of days went on similarly. Maolsek only stopped to take short naps when and where he deemed safe, ate and drank when he could, but he was running low on rations. He decided to do a little hunting himself, which turned out to be easy with a bow pilfered from one of his recent run-ins with the hunters. He caught a rabbit, which he skinned and ate raw, and then buried the remains beneath some tree roots.

 

He moved along, over time getting a feel for the forest and the way it wove, and found it increasingly easier to evade traps and the poachers themselves. Still, he felt like he was going in circles from time to time, as occasionally he'd run across large groups who would push him back the way he'd come.

 

He was beginning to grow weary by the fifth day of being stuck in the forest. Shynvera couldn't be much farther, could he? He was tired of the minor skirmishes, tired of collecting small injuries he barely had the power to heal, and tired of the endless traps scattered around. Where was the village the hunters had mentioned?

 

He was getting dangerously low on rations, and was lucky he knew how to hunt. Water was out, though, which meant he needed to find a spring or river again, and soon.

 

A camouflaged shadow laid low in the forest brush.

 

It was rare that he was called upon, usually left to select from a list of targets at his leisure. He preferred to pick off the kill targets first, as capture was too kind, but he understood the logic for those who were of lesser value as corpses. It was not very common for him to be called to a capture with a kill allowance if he could justify the threat. Mildly intriguing, really, and enough to not try to find a reason to land a pre-emptive fatal blow on the dark-coloured target before him. Hidden well by the forest, his aura masked against the environment, he debated for a moment before pulling out a throwing dart.

 

Silent and swift, the dose wasn't quite enough to take an individual that size down, but it would do its intended purpose - as a slow-acting paralytic, it ensured his prey wouldn't be able to go far if it managed to disengage from him, while allowing him to test its capabilities himself.

 

He wanted to see personally what this one brought to the table.

 

The dart embedded deep into Maolsek's shoulder, and his reflex was to hiss and pull it out. He pressed his now-glowing hand to the site and ran, not even bothering to look for where the dart had come from - escape first, and then assess the extent of the danger that was sure to follow.

 

The silent assailant followed, swift and sure, timing his movements so that their sound was masked by those of his prey. Aura kept the trees from breaking his line of sight, and he didn't worry too much about keeping a close pace - either his prey would run until the paralytic started to set in (which would happen faster with an elevated heartrate), or the Mystic would slow down of his own accord, believing the threat to be outran.

 

He hoped it would be the latter - the former would have most of his work done for him before he could test his prey's skill.

 

Maolsek's magic did its work, neutralizing a fair amount of the toxin in his veins, so that he could focus on getting distance between himself and whoever pursued him. He swore he heard the hunter behind him on more than one occasion, and every time, he picked up his pace. He still had to be mindful of traps and even the trees in his way.

 

Finally he skidded to a halt and spun behind an old, large tree, blocking his pursuer's line of sight for the moment (he hoped), and leapt up to the lowest branch and clambered atop it. He climbed up higher, and, finally choosing a perch, pulled his stolen bow from his back and nocked an arrow. He just hoped he spotted the hunter before he got another dart - or worse - in his flesh for his troubles.

 

When his prey stopped by a tree and leapt up into its branches, the assailant just crouched in the brush, moving slowly and carefully. He had the time for the long game, taking the calm, gradual care required to move silent and unseen. Noting that his prey had his back to the tree's trunk, once he was finally at an angle where such became clear, he changed his direction and doubled back to his original position. He then made his way, just as silently, to the tree, keeping the trunk between himself and his prey for now.

 

Some focus and weaving of the aspects later, a spell of silence fell around him. Unremarkable hands clad in thin leather gloves then gripped a low-hanging branch as he leapt, and then he made his way up the same tree, darting across the branches once he was high enough to be out of his target's sight. Spell ensuring the branches and leaves could not give away his location, he very carefully positioned himself above his target, taking his time even as he drew the wavy blade of his dagger. Carefully adjusting to land very precisely - being off-target would be an extreme embarrassment, not to mention painful - he dropped down to the branch his prey was on, dagger positioned to stab deep, but also to avoid hitting an artery.

 

He wasn't aiming to kill.

 

Something had been wrong since Maolsek had begun running, and he hadn't been able to shake the feeling. No aura indicating the hunter, which told him whoever it was was much more skilled than any other he'd faced. The wind rustled the leaves all around, and he inhaled deeply, catching the scents of not only the surrounding nature, but something else. Something alive and far, far too close for comfort.

 

He instinctively sprang forward just as the hunter above him dropped down. He felt something hard and sharp run down the length of his back, which opened a wound that bled freely, and when he turned on the branch, he saw the cause. He flung the bow at peculiar hunter, dropping the arrow at the same time, then drew his stolen sword from where it'd been strapped to his pack, and prepared to fight.

 

The hunter, clad in camouflage and tall enough to not be completely dwarfed by the Mystic, chuckled as he dismissed his silence spell - the spell wasn't needed, and it would interfere with his whistle if he ever needed to blow it. He didn't speak, however, simply catching the bow in his free hand and swinging it around so that it rested across a shoulder and his back and front - easiest way to deal with the weapon without making it easily re-available to a skilled opponent, as even snapped wood could be made lethal with enough force.

 

Teal eyes set against a brown face watched the Mystic move with keen attention, though also some amusement. That source of amusement became more apparent, as after sheathing his kris, the hunter withdrew an enchanted, wavy short sword and used it to slice clean through the branch between himself and his target - the Mystic was now in for something of a fall. A fall the hunter watched, then leapt down in a more graceful manner to meet again with his prey.

 

Unable to find another branch to latch onto in time, Maolsek did fall, but prepared for it. He landed hard on the ground, but on his feet and in a crouch, which he sprang back from as if the impact hadn't jarred him. He raised his sword again with a huff. "Why can't you people just leave me alone?!" His long, spike-tipped tail lashed behind him.

 

"Why couldn't yours?" the hunter replied cryptically, then drew out his other wavy short sword. He paused just long enough to see if his prey would attack first, then struck with swift, sure precision, one sword used for the offensive, the other in a defensive reverse grip.

 

Maolsek focused more on the sword that was actually slashing at him, and went on the defensive. He was tired, he was frustrated, and now he was hurt, but he couldn't give up. He gave little ground, and pressed back with his own attacks.

 

The hunter wasn't interested in treating his prey all too kindly, relentless, swift, and occasionally downright brutal, constantly changing his route of attack and forcing his prey to practically dance in a circle as he struck from all possible angles. He kept from using spells not out of courtesy, but because he wished to see how long his prey could keep this up, where his prey's current limits could be met. This one was a curious one, and he wanted to be sure it wasn't going to immediately escape after he brought him to camp.

 

After several exchanges, it became clear that his prey was going to remain on the defensive for now, and so the hunter switched his grip on the reverse sword to a more aggressive one, though he remained ready to switch back just in case his prey was trying to lure him.

 

Tired of fending off two blades with one, Maolsek pulled a second blade free of his pack and attacked with an upward diagonal stroke all in one motion. Expecting it to be blocked, he prepared to stab with his other sword.

 

Both strikes were readily blocked, the hunter's wavy blades causing uncomfortable vibrations for his prey as he parried the strikes.

 

Maolsek pressed his attack, now coming on harder with a flurry of blows, ignoring the mild discomforts and the hot line of pain in his back. Just because he was out of practice dual-wielding didn't mean he was unskilled, but as the match wore on, it gradually became clear who the more skilled swordsman was.

 

The hunter got under his guard at one point and slashed a long, thin line across Maolsek's stomach, eliciting a hiss and drawing more blood. Maolsek leapt backwards and went back on the defensive.

 

The hunter's smile was neither cruel nor kind, indeed it was much closer to vicious, if a close-mouthed expression could be said to be such. Blood and heart pounding with the adrenaline of battle, the hunter decided it was time to end the fight - he'd seen enough, and it was readily apparent his prey was growing weary, not to mention the loss of blood from the gash down the Mystic's back had to be having something of an effect. It was curious that the paralytic hadn't taken effect, which meant either natural resistance, an antidote, or this Mystic had more of an ability in magic than he'd outwardly shown. All were interesting, but not something furthering their little skirmish would provide a definitive answer to.

 

After but a moment to re-examine his prey, the hunter renewed his assault with fervour, finally aiming to disarm his opponent - literally if he had to, as limbs could be regrown with magic - and end the fight. It was time to take the Mystic out and bring him in, playtime was over.

 

An idea came to Maolsek's mind, and he prayed it would work. He purposefully backed up, but occasionally tried to get inside the hunter's guard and slash to keep up the appearance that he wasn't going to give up any time soon. As he was nearing another tree, he called out, "Stop standing around like an idiot and shoot him already!"

 

It had a completely different effect than the one hoped for, as the hunter just burst out laughing. "There's no-one behind me, Mystic. Nice try." His assault did not let up, though he did take a token caution, weaving a spell just in case an arrow or bolt was to fly at his back.

 

The one time that trick hadn't been a bluff, and it had been an instance of someone masking their aura damned good, it'd been far from painless, and he had learned.

 

Maolsek growled and used his long tail to sweep dirt and forest debris at the hunter's face.

 

That made the hunter back up for a moment, not interested in being blinded. He looked at his prey, raising an eyebrow, then flicked the blood off his swords and sheathed one of them. Weaving another spell, he threw a gale-force wind into the Mystic's face. If tricks it was going to be, then he wasn't going to waste further time.

 

Maolsek turned the instant the hunter backed up, and bolted as fast as his long legs could move. He got knocked over by the wind, falling to all fours but not letting go of either sword, and scrambled like that for a few feet before making it back upright once more and running for it.

 

The Mystic was not able to get far before thick vines sprang from the forest floor and wrapped around him, too many to be evaded. The hunter walked up to him calmly, both swords now sheathed, the vines tightening and growing in number the more his prey struggled and tried to cut himself free.

 

It sent Maolsek back to the ground, and he soon realized he wasn't going to get anywhere no matter how much he fought. Tired, angry, but defeated, he finally gave up. For now. As soon as he had another opening, he'd try to flee again - preferably when this particular hunter wasn't around. His violet eyes met the hunter's teal, and he growled, a low sound in his chest.

 

"You might consider yourself lucky, you know," the hunter told his prey, tone and expression dispassionate as he knelt near him, holding the gaze. "Had I no orders, you'd be dead. And all your foul kind in this forest." With that, he drew a syringe from a case he'd kept in a pocket, and injected its contents into the Mystic's neck. A faster-acting, potent sedative, he'd chosen a syringe he normally dosed for anthro Dracus - since the Mystic's anthro form was about the same size and weight, he reasoned it safe enough.

 

"We're not the ones-" Maolsek grit his teeth and winced when the needle pierced his neck. "We're not... the ones hunting and killing other species for parts. We hunt to eat."

 

"Oh, your kind can and have done far worse," the hunter spoke with cold certainty. "You just don't advertise when you slay children, but more than a few of you have. This is a reckoning long in coming, the profit is merely a side-benefit."

 

Maolsek's eyes narrowed. "Wha-? What are you talking about?" The sedative was starting to take effect, and it was getting harder to focus.

 

A cold smile, teal eyes going hard. "One day, you'll learn. You're lucky enough to live that long. Remember Vaktervin, for I am the avenger of the fallen." With that, he stood and walked out of the Mystic's line-of-sight to signal with his whistle that his prey had been caught and contained.

 

"Sound like a... like a... unngh." Maolsek's head drooped, and oblivion took over.