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 Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2008 11:14 pm
Paul Revere's ears twitched backwards at the sound of Thistle's voice. Looked like the plan had gone to pieces! He concentrated on moving as fast as he dared away from the clearing, trying not to think of what was behind him, trying not to remember how much easier it was to move the basket when only Zahara was heckling him, trying not to think of anything but saving this poor basket.
Before Thistle spoke, Moltres knew she'd woken up. Like Akteon, he could feel the waves of negativity rolling off of the Skinwalker. He wished he could help, but knew that his visible presence would likely only enflame her further. The Angeni took a look over at Tloc, dimly illuminated as he was by their flames. He was shocked to see the wistful and longing expression on the Kalona's face. Perhaps...perhaps they weren't so incompatible after all.
But that was a theory to pursue another time. Moltres moved a couple steps towards the clearing, just in case.
At the sound of Thistle's voice, Wyrsa's head jerked around from where she'd caught a trace of Akteon's scent. The mare snarled and hastened over to the tree. It was clear at once that the nuisance of a flutter had picked his spot fairly well.
Though she'd just woken up, already Wyrsa was calculating the best way to attack Thistle. It was possible, she judged, for her other form to scale the tree, but the problem there was that the flutter would likely fly to a different perch. She could swiftly exhaust herself chasing a phantom in that way.
"Big brave stallion, up in his tree," the mare retorted. "If you were a real stallion, you'd be down here, not ready to run at the first sign of blood." Threats and dares delivered for the moment, the Skinwalker forced her attention back to tracking the fading scent. It was down here. This stranger, another stallion, probably couldn't fly, she reasoned with grim satisfaction.
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2008 11:23 pm
Thistle chuckled, again his voice didn't so much as crack from fear. Really, he was impressed with himself. "I don't think so. This stallion is a lover, not a fighter, and I will stay in my tree, thank you."
He cocked his head tot he side as if he thought the Skinwalker a curiousity. "So how was you nap? Horrible, I hope... filled with lots of love and fluffy kittens!" The fluttercorn made a grin... and risked jumping down one branch... just one! His mind never stopped calculating, and Thistle made sure he was still far enough away for safety.
Tlocatl, however, let out the breath he was holding so intently. He didn't even bother to think about how Thistle was taking it. The kalona did want to yell out to the flutter and tell him what an idiot he was for jumping down a branch. Seriously! If Thistle got himself killed now, then his baskets might be in danger. He would have a 'talk' with him later.
But Akteon didn't give up. He continued on as fast as he could. They were finally outside hearing range, and he broke into a faster pace. He caught up with Paul and whispered in his ear. The unicorn's eyes were wild with the idea of what they just did. They just stole from a Skinwalker!!!! "Paul.... are we crazy?"
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2008 11:30 pm
The orange stallion considered the question. "Um, yeah. We're crazy. Now let's get out of here before she finds us and kills us!" he insisted, suiting deed to word and pushing them both towards the desert.
It was only a supreme act of will that kept Wyrsa from attacking Thistle. But it was fairly obvious that he was just a distraction. And as much as she would love to rip his little fairy wings to shreds, it just wasn't possible as long as he remained out of reach. The scent she was trying to track had faded and been blended with others enough that she'd lost it, and was about to give up when something happened to change her whole outlook that night.
The wind shifted. And the first thing she scented was so familiar, the mare would have known it in her sleep. A snarl grew, softly, deep in her chest, and growing until it filled the whole clearing. The Skinwalker turned and headed unerringly for the source of the smell.
"TLOCATL!" she called. "You are mine now!"
When the Skinwalker turned and started coming straight for them, Moltres knew the jig was up. When she roared out the Kalona's name, he decided to take advantage of it.
"I'll go make sure the baskets are all right," he murmured to Tloc, before taking off at a run after the two. He wanted to be nowhere near Tloc now! A little voice murmured that he was running away. The Angeni retorted that it was a damnfool idea to confront a Skinwalker in her own territory at night. He should at least wait for the light of day!
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2008 11:46 pm
Akteon nodded, "True..." and then he broke off into a gallop, making sure the basket was snug and not going to flop away. The poor thing has had enough abuse....
Thistle grumbled under his breath, well that didn't go as planned. But at least he was off the case. Without another word, acting as if yes, Tlocatl really was the purpose of his distraction, the fluttercorn flew off... and went as fast as his little wings could handle.
Tlocatl swore under his breath. And right behind Moltres, he broke into a dead run, as if the devil was on his heels. As far as he was concerned.... the devil WAS on his heels!
The kalona went to a completely different direction, leading the mare away from the baskets and away form there others.... though he told himself it was only his offspring that he was concerned for. Tlocatl wished his wings were working, he could just fly away...far, far away. But his wings were still injured, and his only option was to run.
His legs were much stronger, but it was obvious the kalona was not as familiar on the ground as he was in the sky. Tlocatl's tree-dodging and log-jumping was awkward and instead of instinct, he wasted precious moments in making simple decisions.
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Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2008 11:52 pm
It was with great relief that Paul Revere saw the trees thinning. Thank the gods. They were nearly out of the forest. They still had a ways to go to get the baskets to safety, but they were almost out of the forest.
Moltres had figured out pretty quick that flying in a forest was stupid. Now he was gliding around the edge of the woods, watching for Paul Revere and Akteon, trying to salve his wounded pride by protecting and watching over the baskets as best he could.
Wyrsa had eyes, ears and nose only for Tloc, and doggedly pursued him. He had the advantage at the moment, as she was blinded by her rage and hatred to the point that she was running into and tripping over obstacles that she ordinarily dodged more gracefully than any winged Soquili. Even so obstructed, her speed was a frightening thing.
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Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2008 12:06 am
Tlocatl found himself with a problem. He could hear water up ahead, and lots of it. The stallion dug his feet into the dirt, and stared off the slight hanging. It was just a small cliff but one, nonetheless.
Tlocatl looked down at the waters. It was pretty fast, maybe from the mountain snow melting, and the moonlight glinted off those torrents. But he could hear Wyrsa coming, and his mind was going crazy thinking of the options. Risk the rage of the water or the wrath of a skinwalker?
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Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2008 12:13 am
Wyrsa smiled fiercely to herself. The Kalona would never learn his way around the forest. He seemed to be heading straight, and in that case she was able to slow down enough to avoid the obstacles. There was no way out. Not unless if one could fly - which Tloc wouldn't be doing for some time yet.
The Skinwalker stepped out of the trees behind Tloc. "What will it be?" she asked him sweetly. "The rapids...or me?" She took a few steps closer. "Perhaps I could be...enticed...to leave you alive." Her tone was quite explicit, almost as if she hadn't just spent hours in agony to produce the two baskets that had just been sucessfully stolen away.
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Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2008 12:23 am
Tlocatl looked from the rapids and then back around to the skinwalker. He sneered at the mare, "You cannot be trusted.... I'll take my chances!" And with that, the stallion backed up and over that small cliff. He watched Wyrsa carefully, not taking his eyes off her, and in his own was obvious defiance.
The kalona's front foot hit the rock, and he bit his tongue rather than cry out in pain. Which was probably better, as about that time he hit the water. They were a lot stronger than he though, and he had to struggle wildly to keep his head aloft every so often for air. But it was enough.
He tumbled and fell under the rapids. Hit his hoof on a log floating with him, his left wind painfully tried to flail as well and it took energy to keep it tight against his body.
The shallow end was worse, as footing was impossible...so Tlocatl continued down, just trying to stay alive. When finally, he gave one burst of energy and thrashed to the shore, the kalona was about ready to faint fron exhaustion. He stumbled onto land and promptly collapsed. His last thoughts were that his children were safe and that if Wyrsa were to come up on him now, he wouldn't care if he died...he was just too tired and in too much pain to care.
When Tloc awoke, it was to the sun on his face. He struggled to his feet and then started the trek back. When he returned, it was with relief that his baskets were there - safe and at least mostly sound, one was more beat up than the other, though - and the Rescue Team was there as well. Yes, it was a good night.
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Posted: Sat Mar 29, 2008 12:29 am
Wyrsa watched Tloc take the jump. She was somewhat impressed that he actually would risk possible death to get away from her...and somewhat hurt and frustrated. She would show him. She would show him that he couldn't just walk away from her. Not now, not ever. And if he thought it was possible, oh, how wrong he was.
Yes, she would let him escape with his life. She'd even let him have the baskets - she had no real use for the things outside of two very small meals. But once the foals were loose...ah, yes.
Wyrsa wondered, with a savage smile lighting her face, what the Kalona would be willing to do for his children's sake once he'd met them. The Skinwalker's almost maniacal laughter rang out over the rapids as she contemplated all the ways she could twist Tloc around in the future.
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