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 Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 5:11 pm
The morning had started off well enough.
Though he no longer slept nestled at the side of his adopted mother, he nevertheless tended to gravitate to her proximity when nightmares took ahold of him. Last night had been one of those times, which by itself wasn't a bad thing (she was warm, the nights were cold, and Tylen didn't appear to mind...)
Except he'd been roused from slumber not by a gentle reminder from Seresai and her lifemate Tylen that he was due for a tour of scout duty -- oh no. His wake up call had come at the merciless hooves of Crousader. Again, not necessarily a bad thing, the old wind stallion had taught him much about the world and about fighting, but Crous was a terrible face to see first thing in the morning. Particularly when he had a habit of standing directly over his victim target with both forehooves on either side of their head.
Gen was no different, except perhaps because Seresai was Crous's daughter, and Crous had never approved of his delicate young lady bringing home a dangerous kalona crossbreed colt with the intent to raise him herself. Which meant he got to feel the old stallions hot breath directly on his cheek first thing in the morning, with a side of hooves framed with vicious iron armor pressed not-so-subtly against his jugular.
"Dream ... bad." He'd offered, knowing any sort of vocalization was pointless. Predictably, Crous scoffed (he would have scoffed even if he'd overslept for a perfectly legitimate reason) and the morning took a very obvious downturn.
Not long after, he found himself facing not just Crousader in the sparring field .. but Blais. Whatever thought Gen had regarding his adoptive Grandfather perhaps softening towards him vanished when the giant painted stallion appeared. Yes, this was going to be one of those lessons, where Crous hammered him from the air, and Blais wiped the ground with his face. The reason? Crous felt like it, and Blais enjoyed the exercise. Or so he said. Perhaps there was a real lesson in there somewhere, but what Gen usually pulled from the experience was exercise and pain management.
With a sigh, Gen submitted himself to the 'lesson' and was glad to escape it an hour later with only a few cuts, some bruises, and a bit of a limp. That he figured he would work out of before anything happened on his upcoming scouting mission. Or rather, he hoped he would work out of it. Preferably before Cetra noticed it and commented on it.
Because that would mean remembering (and possibly explaining) why he'd gotten it, and sometimes his pride just wasn't that durable.
So it was with his wings tucked quite firmly against his sides and and hooves beating out a slightly off-cadence rhythm that he picked his way out of the 'settled' part of his herds territory and took himself out to the borders of the wilderness.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 6:18 pm
 Cetra was on edge.
Returning to Hakan from the previous scouting trek had not heralded the restful couple of nights she had been looking forward to. Instead, her nerves had been sorely tested at the signs of a skinwalker's presence littering the outskirts of the herdlands. Rubedo had brought back the news in a restrained panic just as she was crossing into herd territory, and instantly all thoughts of rest and relaxation had fled her mind. Shrugging off Grandfather's concerns, the winged mare had determinedly stalked up and down the eastern border, hunting for a trail, but it appeared the creature was long gone, and only the barest hints of its presence remained. What did remain, though... the remembrance made her clench her teeth. Pawprints, too large to be those of a mountain lion or coyote- it was a purewalker. And a particularly sadistic one at that, if the flayed small animals near its lingering trail had been any indication. They hadn't been eaten, just... played with, made to suffer, and the thought didn't bode well for her family, if it came back and decided to set its sights on them.
After making absolutely certain that the creature was gone and doubling the border patrols (ignoring Kazu's complaints- that boy really needed to learn when to hold his tongue), Cetra had reluctantly bid farewell once more, though her mood had fouled with the minimal amount of sleep she had managed to get. It certainly didn't help that she wasn't particularly happy with where she was headed- or, more accurately, who she was headed towards.
While the last couple of these scouting expeditions had gone off without incident, it still chafed to be at the beck and call of this kalona stallion, even though by now she had acknowledged that this situation wasn't entirely of his doing, and he seemed no more pleased with it than she. She could, at the very least, respect that he didn't coddle her by slowing down or avoiding danger while she dogged his steps; in fact, the pace he set was sometimes grueling, and always a test of her endurance. It was refreshing in some ways- she could certainly appreciate a break from her uncle Freyr's arrogance and blatant sexism- but frustrating in others, as she was slowly running out of reasons to dislike her unlikely savior. She still scoffed at that title, despite the truth of it.
She wasn't an unreasonable mare by any means, but she was aware that her prejudices ran deep... and until now, there hadn't been any reason to challenge them. The world was rarely so black and white, but she had doggedly kept to her insistence that kalona could do no good and could not be trusted, and before now, she had not been wrong. Perhaps Gen didn't deserve the brunt of it, but it was rather difficult to let go of those reservations when he embodied the very essence of what she despised.
In any case, he was late, and her mood was souring by the minute.
When he finally did make an appearance, stumbling into the forest clearing that she paced in- and it was a stumble, no matter how slight the falter- it was without ceremony as it always was, and she reluctantly offered a nod in greeting with feigned civility. Keen eyes quickly sought out the source of the odd way he was holding himself, however, and narrowed at the realization that perhaps she hadn't been the only one to have a rather trying day. Her mouth twisted in disapproval, though it was in irritation more than concern.
"You're injured." It wasn't a question.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 6:32 pm
As his aunt Wildfire was prone to say, you can't be surprised when the expected happens.
Blinking big green eyes at the wind mare who'd 'volunteered' herself as his shadow out of some misplaced sense of duty ever since that episode with Seethe, Gen swallowed back his initial response of 'obviously' and settled on an uncharacteristic scowl.
His injured condition was still several times stronger than her peak condition one (or so his stinging pride was attempting to convince him of - nevermind that the pair who had put him in this state were a wind and a regular soquili) and he wasn't in the mood to discuss it.
"You smell." He eventually added after coming to a full (if a little ginger) halt near her. "Tense. Reason?" Because changing the subject always worked. Right?
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 6:50 pm
The scowl was a slight surprise, as she'd been privy to nothing but stoicism and determination in past exploits, but the childish insult had her raising a brow, biting back a huff of indignance. It was probably true- she'd had little time to care for her personal hygiene, though that concern was entirely secondary to the duties her grandfather entrusted her with, and the skinwalker was a much larger and more pressing concern. She rarely put as much care into such things as, say, Kalea or Lyssia, as she didn't concern herself with impressing anyone. That didn't mean she appreciated it, though, and golden eyes narrowed in a not-so-subtle glare.
She debated for a moment whether to answer his question, but she wasn't about to let her immature urge to snub him overrule her sense of duty- his herd neighbored her own, after all, and the skinwalker threat could be an issue to him, too. "Skinwalker. You?" she punctuated the inquiry with a meaningful look to his slightly hunched stance, unwilling to let the subject go, although she could clearly tell he was trying to avoid it. His condition was a concern to their mission, at the very least- she wasn't about to trust him at her back if he was incapable of defending it, no matter how much power he might have had over her.
She would be lying if she said it didn't bring her some pleasure to make him uncomfortable, though. It was less out of malicious glee and more out of smugness, however- no one ever said she wouldn't take an opportunity to pick at her brothers when it pleased her, and Gen was no exception.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 6:58 pm
"Old farts." He snorted his thought about Crous and Blais before he could stifle it. Skinwalkers, while a serious concern for him and the locust point of a rather dreadful rage when he really got going, were not what had him ruffled this time.
Still, while his honesty assured that he'd answer her truthfully, his sincerity meant that he dropped the juvenile moroseness in favor of looking at her with real concern in his eyes. Their's was a tireless duty, minor injuries and bad hair days aside. He wouldn't play around with border security, no matter what Crous or Blais ... or Cetra ... did to him.
"Close?" He asked, meaning to either his herd or hers.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 7:19 pm
If his first comment had taken her by surprise, his snorted insult for what she understood as his mentors took her aback enough to make her cough a few times to hide a suppressed laugh, though she would deny it to her dying breath. It was... more candid than she was expecting from him, and her previous annoyance was all but forgotten for a brief moment as she dwelled on the fact that apparently, Gen had a sense of humor.
At his grim look, however, she sobered immediately, straightening in seriousness as concern came to the forefront. She could at least admit that she respected his dedication and duty to Cerezo, as much as she could gather that he respected hers to Hakan- they were kindred spirits in a way, though that certainly didn't herald any pleasant feelings.
"Long gone now. Last seen near our eastern borders, opposite of your herdlands." She paused a moment, debating what information was relevant, but there wasn't much of a reason to leave anything out, especially where safety was a concern. "Purewalker, from what we can tell. Tortured some small animals, left their dead carcasses behind." Her lip curled back in abject disgust at the memory- she wasn't squeamish by any means, but she could afford some sympathy for the suffering of those animals, and it galled her that it had happened in her territory.
"The trail was a few days old, and clearly led away from our territory. I'd double patrols for the next couple weeks, just in case." The suggestion was automatic, tactical thoughts already whirring, but she wondered belatedly if he would scoff at her authority. He certainly didn't seem so petty, but she could think of few stallions of his stature willing to be dictated to by a mare. His kalona nature was secondary, in this case- males in general seemed to be more of this mindset.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 7:34 pm
Being small and female had very little to do with his assessment of her, minus the odd moment when his understanding of the world meant that (realistically) the size difference couldn't be ignored. He'd come to respect her intellect and wit, even if he sometimes found himself on the stinging end of both. His own mother was a delicately proportioned wind mare - with an unmatched record in the sparring arena among those in her age group to prove her martial prowess.
Given all of that, his nod of agreement was genuine and lacked any sort of gender-oriented, ulterior inflection. He agreed with her, that was that. Double patrols were a necessity they both recognized where skinwalker threats were concerned.
"Troublesome." He stated, looking beyond her to the woods surrounding them. "We should begin." His tone for the last was differential, a nod to the notion that if she wished to return home, he would not stop her. The 'we' that slipped in went unnoticed, but clearly heartfelt. Whatever else he thought of her, she was a valuable ally. "You stay?" The choice was hers, as always.
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Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 8:06 pm
As his emerald gaze met her own in shared commiseration, all thoughts of pettiness fled as a look of respect passed between the two of them, and there was a minute lessening of tenseness to Cetra's posture that only trained eyes would pick up on. Whatever reservations she held about his nature, she did trust his dedication to his herd... and strangely enough, she did trust him at her back. That he yielded to her judgement on this matter, well... it curbed her animosity, certainly.
She followed his gaze to the forest's edge, ears twitching at his statement and offering a curt nod in response. The addendum surprised her, though, and she turned to look at him again in abject confusion until she understood what he was asking. The notion of returning home so that she could oversee her family's protection was a tempting one, but she wasn't one to renege on her commitments, and she could hardly watch over them forever.
Besides... her present company talked a lot less than some. She didn't know why she always managed to get stuck babysitting Lyssia when her grandfather thought she was working too hard, but it was a task she always dreaded. Gen's silence and succinct, short conversations rather than the long, rambling, nonsensical tangents the sienna mare would start on was refreshing by comparison, to say the least.
She nodded again, this time less dismissiveness and with more personal acknowledgement as she gestured to the path with the sweep of one onyx wing. "Lead the way."
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Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2015 7:58 am
He still didn't quite understand her position regarding this debt of honor she claimed to owe him. Had their roles been reversed, he doubted that he would be at her side guarding her herd's territory to repay her for saving him. The hole left in Cerezo's border by his absence would be a large one, and while his family might approve of honor and chivalry, none would approve of a skinwalker walking right up to their noses unchallenged.
Granted, if he knew that his home borders were secure ... he would do exactly as she did. Maybe. After asking Seresai.
Thinking on it more, he realized two things. One, he really ought to think for himself more. Two, he had a newfound respect for Cetra's decision making ability and her clear faith in her herd.
"Your herd is strong." It was a statement that made perfect sense given his thought process, but probably appeared to come straight out of the clear blue sky to an outsider. Regardless, he set off at a measured (if still slightly ouchy) pace.
"Report came. Odd humans, not Kawani, in area. Mountain Lion pride hunted terribly, humans wearing their skins." If anything, the last was what made these humans not just 'odd' but dangerous as well. The Kawani used animal pelts to warm themselves and create shelter, and they had taught some of the newcomers a similar procedure. The process was respectful, and Gen understood that this was the way of the world. But the Mountain Lions had reported a different sort of skin wearing. These humans did not respect the original bearer of the pelt, and they defiled it with the evil acts they committed later.
This made them akin to the creature Gen hated more than anything else ... a skinwalker. He wasn't sure if humans could be cursed with Oyohusa's taint, but if they could ... he would exterminate them.
"We investigate. Cerezo will act if dangerous." He concluded, pushing through the undergrowth with far less noise than a creature his size should be capable of.
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Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2015 6:48 pm
It was with a curious and avid stare that she watched Gen step into the brush before her, ears twitching in rapt attention as she noted the enviable lack of noise that she would have expected from a stallion his size. He was well-trained in stealth, it seemed, and Cetra took a moment to wonder if he might pass on some of those skills before dismissing the thought with a repressed, indignant snort. She could hardly ask him herself, and somehow she doubted that the stoic male would offer, even if he was aware of her interest. Their association wasn't one that either held by choice, and favors were reserved for those who at least thought well of one another.
At the low statement he offered in the silence of the dark forest, the winged mare paused, wondering at its meaning. At first it sounded like an offer of reassurance, but the idea was uncharacteristic of what she had grown to know of him- unsettling as that thought was, familiarity with a kalona- and he seemed to have as little care for platitudes as she. The assertion sounded more akin to a statement of fact, and seeing as how he did little to voice his train of thought, the conclusions he arrived at often seemed random and without context.
This, though... this she could understand. "Thank you." The gratitude was genuine, despite her qualms about showing anything personal to him. Her pride in her herd- her family- was absolute, and she was aware that he had a similar relationship with his own, even though their origins were vastly different. "So is yours." That, at least, was a truth that she held no reservations about sharing- she had great respect for Cerezo, even if she'd had little interaction with them herself.
At the mention of humans, her nose wrinkled in thought as she processed this new information... she'd never encountered two-leggers as a threat, though she wasn't foolish enough to believe that all were well-meaning. Considering their prowess in hunting greater predators, it was a valid concern, and one that she wouldn't pass off easily. "How many?" The thought of humans using pelts like a skinwalker was a chilling thought, but if they were few in number, the threat could be negligible. She followed as he moved, already considering possible strategies to corner wayward humans if it came down to hostilities, but admittedly, her experience with them was limited. For once, she wished Sukari could offer her guidance on the matter.
"Do we know how far?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2015 8:25 pm
"10 to 15. A moment." Gen replied by way of her inquiry about the number and location of the marauding humans. Slipping through another stand of oaks, he emerged into a passable clearing and spread his wide wings. There was just enough room for a down-sweep, but this take off was going to be difficult. Arching his neck every so slightly, he flicked his tail at the thought of the difficulty and brushed off thoughts of failure. It was bad enough that Cetra had noticed his sore leg, he wasn't about to ask her to scout from the air in order to avoid putting pressure on the injury.
Settling down onto his haunches, he leaped skyward without a moment to lose, black wings rocketing him upwards above the treeline in a blink. What pain there was to be seen on his face was hidden from view below (or so he hoped) and he made a mental note to land softly when he returned.
Once airborne, he surveyed the nearby area and made several mental notes about possible track locations before he returned to the clearing. Landing was a little harder than it should have been, but he managed it without flinching more than once.
"Northeast, towards mountains. Likely in caves. Mountain Lions last den location near there."
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Posted: Fri Dec 11, 2015 5:54 pm
Though she nodded at his first answer, Cetra paused briefly at his request for a moment, raising a brow in curiosity as his pace quickened and a gap formed between them. She followed, golden eyes keenly observing the dark forest clearing before the sound of unfolding leathery wings in front of her caught her attention.
Before she could speak, he was already in the air, and despite being fascinated for a moment at his ability to take to the sky in such short order, her expression dropped into a flat stare, her mouth twisting into a scowl at the unnecessary effort. She knew he was injured, even if he was trying his damndest to ignore it, and the stubborn insistence at hiding it and refusing to pass on a task he must have known very well she could perform without issue made her scoff. It was probably a tad hypocritical- she might have done the same, had their positions been reversed- but it annoyed her none the less, and she fixed him with a half-lidded stare as he landed again a scant few moments later, clearly disapproving. She had caught the wince as he dropped his weight, the flinch as his wings refolded and settled themselves, the deeper hunch to his posture as he stood before her.
"There are others here that can scout, you know. Ones that don't look like they'll keel over and die from stretching a wing too far." While her sarcasm was biting, surprisingly, her tone was not, although she didn't make an attempt to curb her urge to glare his way. The winged mare had only just been appreciative of the fact that Gen didn't coddle her for being female, and here he was, insisting that he should take on a simple task that she could accomplish just as well as he without the added pain of injury. Somehow, she suspected it had more to do with personal pride than condescension over gender, but the slight was there despite his intentions.
Instead of starting an argument or escalating the situation, however, Cetra simply brushed past him with a very deliberate push of her wing to an area on his flank that she knew to be sore under the guise of an accidental collision. The intent was not to harm, she only meant to make a point- it was no less than she would have done to one of her brothers, after all, and they often told her that she was a harsh teacher. Whether or not he valued his pride, though, their mission was the priority, and worsening injuries could have a direct effect on its completion... a fact she knew he was already aware of, but it seemed he needed a reminder.
Point made, she hastened to start at a brisk pace in the direction he had indicated, not stopping to look back and see if he would follow.
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Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 5:54 pm
Luckily for everyone who encountered Gen, his immediate reaction to pain was something along the lines of a gasp-snarl. Exceptions existed, of course. He'd never snarl at his mother, and enemies got a counter-attack in short order.
As Cetra was neither an enemy nor his mother, but instead one of those rare individuals who's opinion he actually valued, he simply grunted.
"Brave. Last we met, you afraid I'd kill you." He opined, clearly in a foul mood. She was infuriatingly correct, and his good sense was quickly filling in addendum to her statement. Like 'I ought to call for a replacement' and 'what if they hit where she just hit.'
"Hitting kalona-half where it hurts... ask for trouble." He went on, petulantly, while he trailed in her wake.
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Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 6:33 pm
Cetra was well-aware she was pushing her luck, but despite the inherent mistrust she had of Gen's kind, she could admit that she had faith in his discipline. She might have expected a half-hearted snap in return for her prodding, but the grumbled words she received instead made her raise a brow and turn her head to glance at him again.
"When last we met, you didn't look like a half-dead stag," she deadpanned with another half-lidded stare over her shoulder. She was gratified to see him ambling along behind her, but there was no mistaking the sullen look on his face- and while his childish attitude at the moment was hardly productive, she did find a certain amusement in the change from his usual stoic demeanor. "And I'm still not sure you won't kill me, but I'd say my chances of fighting you off right now are far better than they were before."
That was an untruth and she knew it, and she suspected that Gen knew it as well- he was quite perceptive, despite appearances. If she were still suspicious of his motives, she wouldn't be out here alone with him, about to take on a potentially dangerous mission and knowing that her family could be vulnerable. She had only just admitted to herself that she admired his dedication to his family, after all- something that they shared- and eliminating an ally would countermand their security. Old habits die hard, however, and she wasn't quite willing to assert that out loud, especially when he was choosing to be petulant.
"No one ever said I wasn't the type to occasionally go prodding a sleeping bear," she sniffed exaggeratedly, exuding haughtiness that she wondered if he'd pick up was in jest or not, "especially if that bear is being particularly obtuse."
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Posted: Thu Dec 17, 2015 6:44 pm
"I am not fat." He retorted, fully aware of the jest and choosing to take it literally. It was a tactic that served him well when dealing with Crousader .... sometimes.
"Or hairy." Like her untruth, that was his. Even he had to admit that his long hair was sometimes an unnecessary burden, but Seres liked it, and it was one of the few things on his body that looked like hers. She had long hair, he had long hair. They didn't share anything else, but they did share that.
"Bears smell. I smell like pleasant oak tree." If that was a veiled reminder of her body odor, she'd have to prove it. He would admit to nothing, except, perhaps, that he wasn't above teasing.
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