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What time is it?

Oh, it had been awhile since he'd last been to the Human World.

Though Senga had a lingering curiosity towards Amityville and Medea's strange disappearance, the invitation to harvest FEAR had not been left unattended. His wings flicked in nervous anticipation at the change of scenery, coiling against his side at the scent of humans, and more importantly, the promise of something tasty. He was very relieved to be in his own body again, and more so than that, be the right gender again, even though the return home had left an emptiness in him. A craving in the back of his throat that he couldn't satiate with anything back on the reserve, the voices in his head crooning that he'd missed out, that he'd had a chance for something more, and he'd given it up. Maybe something here would help. He could hope.

Senga cast a glance to the side. Now if only this night went smoothly.

It wasn't that he didn't trust the War party he'd found himself following despite a) Shikoba's intimidating size and the fact that the last time they'd met he was a girl, and b) the fact that Shaheen was at the top of the food chain while he was the equivalent of fish bait. It was rather that he'd never worked with them before, and Senga was about as much a socialist as a rock. Actually, the rock probably beat him out in that aspect. And even barring that, there seemed to be a tension in the air, electric and wrapping around them like a thick, smothering blanket.

So yes, Senga was definitely praying. Praying hard.

Bones rattling as he drifted closer to the two, Senga rumbled at the question, just as awkward with the idea of co-op as anyone else. But still... it was probably their best option. Sighing out, Senga puffed his wings, tawny striped feathers only smoothing beneath the young Executioners slow, precise fingertips. "It might be dangerous to separate in the aftermath of what... happened." He responded, tone dripping into a mild huff, thinking back to the minipet disaster and everything before that. The voices jittered uneasily inside of his head. How many others were afflicted? It wasn't like the Lost Clans sat down for weekly therapy together - no one knew what was going on with anyone else. And more than that, what if there were those ******** hunters out there too, somewhere in the dark?

"Turns or co-op might be our best bet at not encountering any extra trouble." He rumbled, pulling the hood of his pelt back and peering at the other two. Skulls rattling, Senga turned back to stare owlishly at the town.

"Either way," He sighed, and glancing at the two, added wryly, "by your leave."

( dfjnlsmd sorry for bad intro post q____q )

Time consuming, but effective. Giving no heed to the frown Shaheen tossed his way, nor the way it turned to a smile to the shorter horseman, Shik merely nodded and said, "One hour turns," before taking wing and separating from the group.

No discussions or drawing of lots for this executioner. He wanted to spread his wings and get on the prowl as soon as possible.

The village sprawled under him as he observed its inhabitants for the better half of thirty minutes, knowing he needed to begin slow in spite of the growing urge to just commit wanton slaughter; it would only bring complaints from his companions and the suspicions of the Hunters - which Shik had to remind himself several times he did not, in fact, want at the moment.

Eventually he spotted an elderly woman leave her home with a wicker basket in hand, intent on gathering herbs from the forest, and the horseman tailed her for several minutes from the tree tops. Every few or so he jumped from, he manifested a little bit more of his FEAR, a growing sense of urgency from some unknown foe pressing down on the woman until her movements became more and more nervous. By the time she reached the glenn of her daily constitutionals, she shivered not from the cold but from the oppressive sense of dread taking her over.

Crunch.

She whipped her head about, seeing nothing but a large pair of prints that could have belonged to a bear, if bears had slender, five-footed paws the length and shape of a tall man -

CRUNCH.

There was barely enough time to turn around, hardly a second to open her mouth and scream, a second that lasted a lifetime. In one swift, clean cut the woman's head was severed from her neck and shoulders, and Shik caught it with the casual movements of one reacting to a ball thrown at them. Drawing it out would have garnered him more FEAR, but this was an aged specimen: she had seen many horrors already in her life, and it was enough to squeeze one final scream out of her before she had to die.

He returned shortly after the disposal of the body, the only signs of victory being the renewed aura of FEAR about him, the traces of blood he was licking off his fingers, and the wicker basket he had taken. Shik didn't say anything upon his return, but it was obvious from his more relaxed posture that the hunting was doing a good number on his tension. At most, he gave a sharp, bird-like motion of his head to Senga, apparently his way of saying "Your turn".

+1 FEAR

There was really no need for Senga to fret. If Shaheen was going to do anything to Shik, it could wait until after they were finished here. She would not risk them all or put them in jeopardy just over a few hard feelings that she harbored for the large executioner. Yes, the tension in the air was still thick, and she may have gritted her teeth when he took it upon himself to go first, even giving them a time allotment as though he were the one in charge here, and not her. But it didn't matter, she was above him, and his petty behavior.

She let out a sigh after he left, however, and a small shake of her head that sent blonde curls mixed with grey bouncing. She spread her own wings to take flight, to keep an eye out for any threats, and returned to the earth only when she spied Shikoba approaching, the smell of blood and fear so thick upon him she was momentarily dazed out of her ill feelings towards him. Her eyes flickered to the wicker basket that he held, a smirk spread across her face, one that showed her teeth.

"Well well, it would appear I have just surrounded myself with wolves tonight. And all of this time I thought of you more like a bear, Shikoba." It was supposed to be a joke, just a little teasing delivered in a haughty air, almost as though things were still normal between them. Well, as normal as things ever got when it came to these two. That was, until he gave Senga a nod to indicate that it was his turn next, and the other horseman took off into the night. No, he was definitely testing her patience tonight, and sooner or later, he was going to find that her talons were just as sharp as his claws.

But until that time came, she still had a job to do, and that was to make sure neither one of her former war clans-mates ended up getting themselves killed while out on this mission. She did the same again for Senga as she did for Shik, alighting herself into the skies to keep a watchful eye, before returning downward once more, again struck by the scent of fear and blood. Jealousy of the other two's conquests began to rear it's ugly head, but she knew it was her turn now, even without the nod from Senga to indicate it.

Unfortunately for Shaheen, it was just not to be.

Her entire allotted hour was spent circling the skies, searching for an appropriate target. This was something she had done countless times, and it came as naturally to her as breathing. But there was just one little problem. Perhaps it was the fault of her two companions. Maybe they had been too sloppy and it had alerted the humans that something was amiss. Or maybe it was just that Shaheen had rotten luck, even if she had somehow managed to survive the destruction of the isles, and the phoenix that had threatened to consume her.

No, it mattered not what the reason was, but the result was the same. Humans milling about everywhere, like angry ants swarming after their hill had been stepped on. Not a single person separating from a group, not a thing she could do to safely harvest anybodies fear that she could find. Finally, disgusted and disheartened, she returned to the others, her face stony and her jaw clenched tight. It would be clear to both of them that she had failed to harvest any fear, but it had been for good reason.

"We need to wait. The humans have become restless and are gathering in numbers. It is not safe enough to hunt them right now. Give it some time, and then we will strike out again." Her gaze was sweeping from one executioner to the other, but her gaze rested on Shikoba's then hardened. A silent challenge to defy her leadership once more.

Senga took off after Shikoba's warning without response, though he gave the man a passing glance of curiosity before his wings unfurled and he disappeared into the night. A presence? Who else would be lurking out here, now? It made the wolf grow restless as he leapt and sprung from branch to branch, following the path of lights far below, while the night sky clouded over above his head. Since birth, the wolf had a sense of territorial protectiveness, and even though he knew there was no claim on these parts, he still felt as though that presence that Shikoba had talked about had no place here, and if he ever found the source, he could not say whether he would be hospitable or not.

The Executioner rifled through the town restlessly, searching for humans to terrorize and Fear to collect and feast upon. His hunger for it was insatiable; a craving that had embedded itself in him the moment he was sent to the human world for the first time. Despite its mundane existence, it satiated his hunger. When blood had pooled at his feet and the taste of fear and horror had been palpable in the air... he could not say there had been a more satisfying moment in his life. He was a creature of the shadows; in his clan he imagined that hardly any truly noticed his presence unless he put himself in the spotlight or made himself explicitly known. As far as they were concerned, he was mild, a black sheep in a white herd. But even he could not escape the taste of Fear, so delectable and alluring in the night.

When he stooped above a small cluster of humans, sure that he had found a good prize to take, he realized that he was not alone. Not in the sense that one might notice another person approaching them. He felt watched, his skin pricking and gooseflesh breaking out across his arms and up the nape of his neck. A thick, curling presence seemed to taint the air, and Senga looked around with wild, bright eyes, his lips parting into a silent growl. So this was what Shikoba had been talking about. Senga rose to his height and unfurled his wings, giving them an aggravated, territorial flap.

How annoying, He thought, bounding away, knowing that already he was taking too long, stupid creature.

When he landed back in their small rendezvous point, he scowled, his feathers puffing nearly twice their normal width. "You're right," He told Shikoba, licking dried blood from his lips, "theres something out there, treading in our hunting grounds." Miffed, he folded his wings and preened over them quietly. "I wish I could hunt it myself." He added on. "But I imagine that is not the point of why we are here. Unfortunately."

It was obvious that the wolf was easily possessive; of people, of territories, of nearly anything at all.