Morning folks, this is a story I started about two years ago, before the release of TCOR (which i found quite bad, despite sweaty Riddick and all). It's sort of AU, obviously, and a work in progress. I hope you like it!

RainDancer

Prologue


The Leader of the pack took another chunk of deer meat into his mouth, trying to ignore the nips of his children as they fussed and rolled at his feet. He looked up helplessly at his first Wife, currently gnawing at a leg, and then, when he had her attention, glanced to his children again. She looked him in the eye, huffed at him as if saying 'Yah right,' and her concentration turned back to her meal. He swallowed his mouthful, defeated and turned away.

He'd had enough breakfast.

While his family basked around the kill, he padded away to a nearby clearing, wanting a moment of silence and peace in the early morning sun. He looked off into the distance, admiring the shape of the mountains and the greenery of the trees that was his home. He almost envied those loners, the rogues that wandered as they wished, didn't have a family to take care of.

The joyous yelping from the playing children and the lively chatter of his wives disrupted his thoughts. He smiled. They drove him crazy sometimes, but he loved them anyway. Even when they didn't do a thing he asked, he loved them.

The Leader felt something suddenly, a tickle in his ear, one that couldn't be ignored. His strong hearing picked up a tree branch snapping. A strange whisper, the scent of fear. Panic fought to rise in his belly.

Leaving the warmth of the new daylight, he plunged back into the forest, needing to warn his family. Danger was near. Another snap. Whatever it was, it was big and it was closer. The cheers of his children sent him over the edge, he ran as fast as he could, prepared to protect his loved ones, at any cost.

A deafening crack disturbed the air, the Leader almost stopped in his tracks, confused as to its origin. Much like the sound of a wind broken tree. But the sudden alarmed bleats from his family convinced him otherwise. At break-neck speed he pounded the dirt, emerging from the bush to see his fallen Wife and his children running, confused and frightened. His other wives tried to gather them, picking them right off the ground and disappearing.

The Leader, his mind in a fog and surrounded by chaos, stepped slowly over to his fallen companion, still whimpering at the burning wound in her belly. The blood was too much. He leaned down and looked into her pleading eyes, she was so very scared, his heart broke for her.

A foreign animal cry sounded from behind the Leader. His noble head turned to see for himself, and balked. A strange creature hopped out, holding a shiny stick, and it hollered more strange noises at him. "Here's another one!" it said. The Leader's back bristled and he revealed his teeth at this thing. He knew the shiny stick was responsible for his dying wife. The Thing pointed the stick at him, still hollering at him. The bush on either side of it rustled, and two more funny looking Things came out, also holding the horrible shiny sticks. The Leader, not a coward, and plenty pissed off, growled and stood his ground.

Another tree-fall crack and a flash came quickly, and the Leader felt a burning in his neck. Knocked off his feet, he lay in a pool of his own blood, wondering what was happening, watching the strange Things reach for him.
With what little strength he had, he reached up and snapped his teeth at them.

"Fuck!" It barked, snatching it's paw, or whatever it was, back again, then it brought out another shiny thing, this one sharp like the Leader's teeth. Grinning, the Thing bent to him again, holding the shiny tooth in front of him. The leader closed his eyes and prayed to the gods to avenge him and his family, preparing himself for the pain.

It didn't come.

Paul looked over his shoulder at his buddies, grinning and brandishing his blade. He couldn't wait to plunge it into the flesh of his kill; the fur alone would be a great decoration for his living-room wall. He was proud of himself, two wolves in one day, a rare thing!

"Man, at least wait till it's dead!" They protested.

"Yah, put it out of its misery first!"

Paul turned back to his kill, blade in hand and prepared to skin it right there and then, thinking his friends were a couple of pussies. "It's just a fucking wolf." He muttered under his breath, leaning in for the first cut. He didn't have time to wait for the piece of shit to die; he had other things on his agenda today.

He stroked the fur first; glad to have found such beautiful quality. The other was also quite fine, but this one... this one was perfect. A perfect trophy. He thought about draping it over his chair instead, something soft and comforting to lean against on the long trip back home. Six months is a long time to fly, the pelt would make it just a bit more endurable.

"What the hell?" He heard Tyler whisper. The wolf under Paul's blade kicked a little at the dirt, as if it was trying to get up. Paul rested a hand on its neck and pushed, keeping the thing in place as he looked over at his friend. He saw him and Carl both standing near the bushes, looking at something Paul couldn't see. He got up off of the ground, brushing off the leaves and dirt, slightly pissed off. What is it now?

He reached them and stood in front of them, peering into the thick brush, listening for the slightest sound. His hunter instincts kicked in, and he raised his knife, poised for battle. I can't see a goddamned thing in this shit! He thought as his eyes swept the area, searching for whatever held his buddies frozen in their boots. Finally, his eyes spotted a flash of white, and focused on it.

Another set of eyes stared back, burning a hole right through him. Paul felt fear grip him for a moment before he shook it off and called out to them.

"Whoever you are, come out where we can see you!"

The eyes didn't even blink. That pissed him off.

"Don't make me go in there after you." He threatened, taking a step forward to make his point. The eyes moved forward also, only one-step, matching his. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he ignored it, swiped it off and took another step closer to the bush. So did the eyes. They were only five feet away from each other, and now Paul could see a little better who it was. Now that's something to have on a long space trip he thought as he looked over the intruder.

The woman emerged completely from the bush and stood in front of him in all her half-naked glory, allowing him to take the sight of her in completely. Naturally the first thing he noticed was her near nakedness, and that alone made him hard. His eyes traveled over her body, her shapely legs, her smooth brown skin, her ample and barely covered breasts and her gorgeous fuck me eyes.

Too late did he notice the foot long blade tucked into the hem of her shorts. His eyes must have betrayed the discovery, she grinned at him evilly, but before he could shout out a warning, she had the knife in her hand. Her movement was so fast; the blade flickered in the sun before plunging into Tyler's throat. The crimson flow splashed her in the face, trickled down to her lips. She took enough time to lick them, growling at the taste, before disemboweling the whimpering Carl, also too paralyzed to lift a finger. His death cry echoed in Paul's ears, as he stood transfixed.

She dropped Carl's twitching body and her brown eyes turned to him. Shaking himself, he ran screaming, looking back as the woman wiped her blade on her leg and grinned again. Paul didn't make it very far. He fell with the knife buried in his back near the two dying wolves. They watched the proceedings with human-like interest, and it scared him.

He reached back to pull the knife out, breathing the dirt through his nose, making him cough. Black spots invaded his sight as he felt his body weaken, but he wanted the knife out and kept reaching. His fingers just touched the handle when the sick sliding grind of the knife getting yanked out made him scream again. He saw the eyes of the second wolf he shot down, and was amazed to see satisfaction lurking there.

Strong arms flipped him over onto his injured back. He felt the woman straddle him, and he lifted his head slightly so he could see her. She sat on his thighs, dripping with the blood of his comrades, still with that toothy white smile, like she was enjoying his reactions to her. He finally got a good look at her face, surrounded by a tangle of black hair, and his last thought before she ripped him apart was Huntress.