[SRP] - He Who Hunts Gods ... | Haast vs Tylen w/Seres+Gen |

[Celeanor]

Sonam.

The name was a whispered thought, a mental summons that seldom worked, but was worth the try every time. As if in response, the slight human form at his side shifted - his peaceful slumber disturbed - then resettled without ever opening his eyes.

Curving his neck down and around, Tylen nuzzled the boy gently to wake him in a more conventional manner. When that didn't work, the stallion shifted his wings and removed them from sheltering the young monks slim body from the early morning chill.

Predictably, this too did not work. While dawn was in fact chilly, it lacked the dry bite to it that plagued their distant homeland. These mountains, while beautiful, were not as high nor as forbidding as the great white peaks of the Sky Temple. To Sonam, born in the mountains and trained in the frigid winters, this morning might even be considered warm.

Which left ... getting physical.

Peering down at his human companion mournfully, the creamy Angeni stallion pondered his options. There was a bit of arm exposed, perhaps a lick? No, that would be more effective on the boy's cheek. Maybe ---

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The scream erupted from the normally quiet monk with enough force to send the startled stallion to his feet, leaving the boy tumbled in a heap at his feet, where he thrashed and clawed at his clothing.

Scampering back, Tylen snorted in alarm at the sight, his four wings flared and ready to take him airborne at a moments notice. "Sonam!" He whickered, the call sounding only like a regular whinny to the ears of his monk. Abruptly the violent thrashing ceased, with the boy laying flat on his back - limbs splayed out. "Core. Cor'e sensha." The words meant nothing to Tylen, though he recognized the voice as being that of his normal companion. Cautiously he stepped closer, peering down at Sonam worriedly. "Are you alright?" He asked, his head tilted to the side. Sonam was sweating profusely, and if he didn't know better ... he'd swear those eyes were still asleep ...

"Core. Cor'e ...sen...sha." The boy whispered again, his eyes rolling back into his head. "Death." The whisper grew louder, the louder still as it appeared Sonam finally woke up for real and leaped to his feet. Startled all over again, Tylen danced back a step, but the monk caught him by his forelock and held on. "Death comes! Death comes!" Finally reading the panic in his voice as something real, Tylen mantled his wings against the threat. "NO! Run! Heart Horse, we must run!" Sonam was grabbing at his face and mane, pulling him ... but where? The stallion didn't understand what he was saying, but he did gather that the boy wanted him to leave.

Snorting, Tylen shook his forelock free of the boy's grasp and looked around for real this time. 'Heart Horse' was the name Sonam had given him, though he didn't really use it much, which meant he was dead serious this time. 'Run' meant fleeing, something Tylen wasn't opposed to so long as he knew what he was fleeing from. And if the hands grasping at him again were any indication, the boy was dead serious about getting them both out of the area as soon as possible. "Death comes! Please! We must go!" Sonam repeated, his fingers finding purchase in Tylen's mane.

Heaving a deep sigh, the stallion yielded to the obvious fear in his boy even if he couldn't find the source of the threat himself. Ducking a shoulder to allow Sonam to mount, he was too busy half turned to pick at a misplaced feather to see the shadow on the ground.

Too slow to react to the sudden loss of Sonam's weight on his back as the boy was lifted from him by a dark, heavy presence.

Too horrified to do anything beside scream himself as that black shadow dropped his boy from the edge of the cliff they'd sought as sanctuary.

"SONAM!!!!!!"  

[Celeanor]

Memory, as it happened, was beneath Haast.

He did not require remembering the essence of the underworld to know that he served a purpose here in this world to recreate it's image. Nor did he particularly feel the need to remember the location of the Demon Tree that birthed him. He would not return to it, nor would he send anyone to it.

What he was not aware of, however, was how angry the void the absence of memory left him. To him, this anger just was. He was a force, an act of nature -- a balance, perhaps -- to something.

That something took years (though he does not mark time as a normal soquili might) for him to find. Between bouts of irreverent hunts of lesser creatures for food, Haast hunted his Purpose. Once, he'd tasted the flesh of a being that might have been his latest kill if not for his misunderstanding of the others true nature. Startled into ceasing his attack, the mare had escaped him, but Haast never forgot what she'd tasted like.

Angeni.

As he knew himself to be a scion of the dark abyss itself, so now did he know them to be the sons and daughters of the place Above. His foil. His adversaries.

His Prey.

So to the skies he'd flown, reveling in the thrill of his own power as he sought more of them -- finding mares, stallions, colts and fillies. The very young and the very old were merely slaughtered - pawns in his way to find their protectors. Worthy opponents. More pieces on the great chessboard of power that moved beneath the surface of the world.

Yes, Haast had found what moved him forward through the ages, and over time his skills advanced, his entire being growing more adept at hunting his chosen prey. He lived in the moment, constantly seeking more as he drifted from territory to territory.

All of which led him to this point, this single moment in a long line of such moments when the shadow of his great image fell over yet another product of holy grace. This one, though, came away different at the end of his calculated dive. Smaller, lighter --- not divine as he knew it.

Further enraged, Haast cast the appendage aside, and wheeled in the sky for another attempt.  

[Celeanor]

Where he'd been too slow before, Tylen made up for his terrible error with the speed of his wings as he dove after the falling figure of his boy. Far below, the ground was cold, dark, and unyielding. Certain death for Sonam if he failed, and for him if he didn't pull up in time. Still, Tylen arrowed on, wings pinned tightly to his side even as he pulled alongside the young monk.

"SONAM!" The whinny was lost on the shrieking wind, the boys eyes sealed shut in either fear or inescapable panic.

Desperate, the ground looming closer, Tylen opened his wings ever so slightly to steer around the terrified monk, bringing himself within range of a grasping hand if only Sonam would open his eyes!

Above them, the black shadow watched, then dove himself. If the Angeni intended to kill himself along with the two-legger, Haast would not stop him - though he would be moderately disappointed at being cheated out of a proper Hunt. But ... if that creamy shape abandoned the two-legger ... The taste of the angeni's flesh might have a different taste altogether after suffering a moral loss like that!

By luck, miracle, or both - the young monk opened his eyes at the last possible moment. Reflex and a checkered history of flying with his four-legged friend offered him a modicum of calm that anyone else would have lost the moment they were in free fall, so he reached for his friend even as tears whipped back from his face and nearly blinded him. Seeing the arms crossing the distance, Tylen drew as close as he dared -- flaring his wings and spinning midair the moment he felt Sonam's hands take a firm hold in his mane. Back-winging fiercely, Tylen reversed their course and barely missed taking off a few feathers skimming the cliff face as he climbed back up.

Ahead, the black shadow tracked him, it's deep, foreboding presence apparent even from this distance. Death indeed... if this is what Death felt like, Tylen was all too willing to flee now - except if that presence caught up with him again, he couldn't risk Sonam's life. Next time, that shadow may not just throw the boy.

Turning back to look at his passenger, Tylen felt his heart constrict at the sight of the boy clinging to his back. Though he'd fallen from his back before, being snatched was a completely different feeling - of that Tylen was certain. He could feel the terror as if it were his own, but...

But it wasn't just that.

In that moment, his resolved crystallized. Come what may, he would protect Sonam. This fear he felt coming from his boy was something far beyond the fear he normally came across in life. It Felt like a virus, a seeping wound that grew larger the longer it was allowed to fester, a creeping sickness that wouldn't leave even if they fled the shadow itself.

Protecting the young monk didn't just mean escaping this immediate threat ... it meant driving away this unnatural fear. Else the terror would follow the boy for the rest of his days. Whatever this shadow was, it wasn't a normal predator.

Alighting on the top of the cliff, Tylen unceremoniously dumped Sonam into a dense thicket of brambles as the shadow erupted from beyond the edge behind him. Spinning with teeth bared, all of his wings spread wide against the giant expanse of inky black, Tylen charged as the eaglewalker back-winged a storm of dust and razor sharp talons in his face. The battle scream that erupted from his throat was uncharacteristic, but necessary to bolster his failing resolve as he realized how very massive the demon was. Nearly double his size, the purewalker was all black but for two fiery red eyes that glowed like dying coals with murderous glee down at him as their bodies met.

Shoving the beast backwards with all of his might, Tylen screamed when those wicked talons sank in his flank, but still he pushed. Forcing the beast back into the air, the angeni joined him in the sky and slashed at the creature's throat with his horn. Failing to connect but succeeding in enraging him, Tylen led the demon further away from Sonam.

 

[Celeanor]

This one had fight, Haast realized with a pleasing tingle of emotion he hadn't experienced before. The horn slash nearly got him, earning the angeni another score across his rump this time as Haast chased him across the sky and down into a deep canyon. They were putting considerable distance between themselves and the spot the angeni had left his two-legger, a detail Haast noticed but decided to ignore. He didn't care for two-leggers one way or the other, though he would capitalize on this stallion's attachment to the creature if it meant prolonging their fight.

As if reading his thoughts, the cream colored stallion spun on him and tried another slashing attack with that wicked horn. Keyed up for battle, the black purewalker stallion parried the attack effortlessly by grabbing the horn itself in his jaws ---

--- At least he did until the touch of the smooth horn burned him hot enough to leave him bleeding from the mouth. Biting back a bellow, Haast turned his rage into a flurry of slashes and cruel kicks aimed at the angeni's chest and shoulder. Succeeding in scoring a deep kick, the impact sent Tylen slamming into the wall of rock behind him. Spinning to follow the angeni's plummet, Haast landed in a flurry of black wings on the ledge the pale stallion lay crumpled on. Aiming to kick him again, Haast bellowed in pained fury when the angeni dodged and his claws met immovable rock instead of soft flesh.

Breathing heavily and bleeding from dozens of places, Tylen staggered to his feet and shook his head to clear his vision. He was still reeling from the kick and the rough landing, but those burns on the beasts' mouth kept drawing his attention.

Burns ... terror ... unnatural fear ....

The beast advanced on him, the killer's eyes fixated on his - those claws already stained with his blood. More than that, however, he realized he'd seriously wounded the beast already, perhaps more so than this creature had ever been injured before, judging by the lack of scars.

Perhaps ...

As the final approach was made in a mouth agape charge, Tylen closed his eyes and sank down into himself. Concentrate. Find your center. He didn't need to see the teeth to know they were close. Pain bloomed behind his eyes at impact, the beast's claws digging deep into his side and neck. Find his center.

And the moment he did, both of their worlds erupted in pain.


 

[Celeanor]

The wind blew chilly and forbidding down from the canyon, rustling the manes of two border guards on patrol from the nearby Elderwillow herd. Raising her petite head, the herd Protector inhaled deeply and turned towards her companion. The young stallion, while still in training, was easily double her size and vastly her superior in strength and clarity of senses. He was, after all, part kalona - thus half predator. She could trust his keen sense of smell over her vague sense of foreboding.

"Blood on wind." Gen replied, drawing himself to his full height in aggressive response to the scent. "Blood, and battle. Demon fights." His curt speech, normally clipped, was laced with anger and a deeply ingrained hatred of skinwalkers that Seresai shared. Her own muscles tensed in response as she turned towards the direction of the smell.

"We go?" He asked, breaking the silence and deciding her.

"Yes." She replied, spreading her white wings and leaping into the air without wasting another moment to indecision. Gen followed without another word, ever her shadowy protege and avid defender. He's ready for solo patrols ... provided we survive this one. She thought idly, watching the unikalona's powerful wingbeats with a small amount of envy. He was pacing himself slower in order to stay with her, which she appreciated even as she reminded herself that tactically he was the one who needed to be the freshest if they were in fact about to engage a skinwalker. Personal pride aside.

Bringing her attention back to their immediate problem, she wrinkled her nose as the smell of blood intensified. Up ahead she could barely make out two figures perched on a ledge. At first she had a moment of disorientation as her eyes filled in herself and Gen on the distant pale figure being overpowered by the larger black one -- a moment fueled by the memory of the time her beloved adopted son had lost control of his bloodlust and nearly killed her -- but no. This wasn't the past. Gen was beside her, dependable and firmly in control, the figures ahead of her were strangers, but that didn't matter.

"Gen! Get in there!" The order was issued before she could think twice. Whichever figure was the beast, they would find out soon enough!
 

[Celeanor]

The pain was unbearable, but Tylen fought through it. The Link was strong this time, a product of desperation, perhaps, or a glimpse of the true purpose of his abilities. He couldn't be sure, and he didn't have the time to dwell on theories now.

The beast was fighting him with everything he had - physically and mentally - as the creatures darkness fought back against the burning pain of his light. Clearly he had experienced another Angeni's Holy Light ability, but Tylen was different. His Holy Light wasn't anything to speak of, really. His abilities were limited to two variations on the same power, and were he being truthful, he hadn't had much practice using the second.

He called it a Link, an emotional bridge between two hearts so they might understand each other better and show deeper compassion. Thus far his experience had been completely spur of the moment. A lifemated pair stressed due to their inability to produce offspring. A father and his estranged son. A stallion and his fox familiar. All were loving bonds that only needed a little extra guidance towards compassion.

This Link was to those like the glittering stars were to the odious tar pits of the distant swamps. Heavy, thick, and suffocating if he allowed himself to be pulled under. He felt every corner of the skinwalkers being, and he felt dirtier for it ... as if the monster's depravity could be transmitted like a disease.


Unbidden the memory of the infectious terror that had gripped Sonam came to mind. Was this beast like him? Could skinwalkers possess an ability like his? Like any pureblooded angeni carried a domain?

He had to know, so he dove beneath the surface of the proverbial tar pit and sought the essence of the beast himself. What was his purpose?

Meanwhile, Haast felt nothing but pain as he experienced the core essence of what made Tylen the Angeni of Compassion. Had he known that these creatures possessed abilities such as this, he would have been far more cautious approaching them. Everything the angeni stood for was anathema to what Haast sought to accomplish while he walked this world. Enhancing goodness in others? Fostering understanding? Compassion? The very notion repelled him, a force that registered as a physical burn that lasted as long as this accursed creature was touching him.

Sifting through the violent maelstrom of emotion that was the purewalker would take more energy then Tylen currently had at his disposal, so with great regret he finally dropped the link by physically staggering away from the eaglewalker just as a second, equally large shape slammed into them both.  

[Celeanor]

Whatever Gen had been expecting when he forcibly inserted himself into a death match between a purewalker and an angeni, feeling things in his head wasn't one of them. Teeth maybe. Hooves and horns, definitely. Physical consequences like kicks and bites. All things he could heal himself of and largely ignore for the sake of winning the fight itself.

But feelings? He hadn't expected feelings. A warrior set aside feelings and maintained a state of calm so that his or her enemy could not control the battle itself.

Yet here, in this battle, this angeni was quite literally fighting with his feelings. How odd.

"Is that the first thing you've got to think? Really?!" The voice was haggard, but still lyrical. A voice Gen would expect coming from a feathered version of a heroic tale - though he could have done without the sarcasm. Gen's intervention had pushed the demon off the cliff and left him standing beside the angeni. "Fundamental difference of approach." Gen replied without further elaboration, understanding without needing to ask that the situation was dire. Direct observations aside, he could feel the relief coming from the cream coated stallion - how very odd.

"You know me?" Gen asked with deceptive idleness as he watched the demon regain his wings and come back around for another attack. "I know you are not my enemy." The angeni replied, struggling to stand tall beside his would-be savior. Flicking his leonine tail, Gen snorted his agreement - noting the arrival of his adoptive mother with barely a flicker of an eyelid. Cloud white and incredibly fast, she appeared out of nowhere behind the black purewalker and slashed at his back and wings before darting away. Beside Gen, the angeni gasped when the purewalker spun and snapped at the wind mare's tail, but his efforts found nothing but air.

Enraged, Haast changed tactics and dove for the pair on the ledge instead. He was wounded, but he wanted this particular angeni dead! The mixed mutt beside him was irrelevant, the wind lesser harrying his tail could be killed later for her insolence -- but the angeni. He would die, right now!

"GEN! NOW!" The cry came from the wind mare as she dove one final time at the exposed back of the purewalker. This time, however, she wouldn't dart away. Back on the ledge, Gen shoved the injured angeni behind him and braced himself for impact just as his mother slammed into the purewalker from behind and threw him forward into Gen's waiting jaws.
 

[Celeanor]

The very last thing Haast remembered was the sound of his own heart beating.

He'd managed to evade the locking jaws of the kalona crossbreed at the last second, slashing the presumptuous colt across the face as he hurtled past. The mare on his back slid gracelessly off to land half on her side, half on shaking hooves further down the ledge. Moments later, the kalona cross was in his face again, this time ripping at his wings with teeth far too large for a lesser creature.

And the Angeni. He filled Haast's vision as his hind claws encountered the edge of the ledge. Faced with an uncertain fate at the bottom of the canyon, or certain death if that creature touched him again...

Haast chose to fall.


Seeing the shift in the beasts eyes, Gen readied himself for another attack, only it never came. With scarcely a sound, the demon spread useless wings and pushed off. Stunned, the black unikalona leaped forward as if to grab the beast, pulling himself up just before the edge as reason caught up to him.

"Spirits..." The voice behind him sounded relieved, then pained, as the angeni subsided into silence while he struggled to draw breath. Turning, Gen realized with a pang of concern that the stallions injuries were quite severe. Looking up, he met his mothers eyes as she too climbed to her feet laboriously and joined them. "It'll take more than than that to kill you." She said to the angeni without bothering with introductions. "Can you heal yourself?" The stallion nodded, but Seresai didn't appear satisfied. "Get to it then, Gen?" At her summons, the young black stallion came closer. "Can you still smell the beast?"

After a brief moment tasting the wind, Gen nodded. "It's below us." Brow furrowing, Seres surveyed their surroundings, then the angeni - who was already looking a bit better. "Alright. Can you fly?" Now she was addressing the angeni stallion, who looked ... aggrieved? Gen wasn't sure what that expression was, and whatever emotional mysticism that had been afoot earlier was clearly no longer functioning. "I can, but I ... my human companion. I left him west of here, on a cliff in a bramble thicket."

"Unfortunate landing for two-legger." Gen rumbled, ears alert for further sign of the skinwalker. "Sticker burrs for weeks." Idle as his tone and observation might be, it did earn a tired grin from the angeni.

"Gen!" The expected matronly correction fell on deaf ears, as the unikalona was as well known for his subtle humor as he was for ignoring attempts to curb it. Still, he did appreciate the angeni's concern for his human. The creatures were awfully endearing.

"We'll find him. You can both come to our herd and heal fully." Seres continued, beginning to look antsy as she too picked up on the smell of the skinwalker. Was the beast coming back, or was his smell drifting up from his corpse at the bottom of the canyon? Whichever it was, she wasn't in the mood to find out. "We need to go though, now." She said, spreading her wings to drive home the sense of urgency.

Without further comment, Gen did the same and took flight - hovering in wait while the angeni and his mother took off and headed west. Seres would know what he was up to, so he didn't bother to tell her his plan. Angling his leathery wings, Gen took up surveillance altitude and waited. If the beast lived, he'd move eventually.