She gave a trill of delight, clicking her mandibles together excitedly as she waited for the door to open. He chuckled, rolling his amber eyes at her before placing a hand on her shoulder, pausing before stepping aside and allowing Horn to repeat the gesture. Thankfully even after her change, they both still stood good six or seven inches over her. She'd never grow as tall as a natural Yautja female, even if her attitude was almost as intimidating at times. While the gesture surprised the unblooded ones nearby given her history, the Elders knew well enough the circumstances and seemed to share a look of amusement as she returned the gesture without a moment's hesitation. A true Yautja in their eyes. Letting go, the door then slid down with a pneumatic hiss and they ran out without a single word being said. The thrill of being outdoors needed no gesture to sum it up. She kept pace easily with Scar, unrestricted by the protective armour they both normally wore for hunts, with Horn flanking the pair. Even if she'd been accepted, he knew from watching that some sought still to either claim or kill her. The sprinting match ended shortly however as they came to a ravine. The medical supply house was on the other side, and the gap was unjumpable –a result of the storms that had recently ravaged the planet. Sharing trills and clicks between them, she then raised a hand before making a claw-like grasping motion in the air. Dirt was thrown up as the roots were forced to yield their hold, and the great length of the sturdy tree was soon being manipulated through the air from nearby to come to a steady rest, effectively bridging the gap. Horn churred his approval, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady her as she swayed a little on the spot before leaping onto the trunk and making his way easily across, followed closely by Scar. They didn't take long. Bouncing on the spot as she sensed their competitive trilling, she then eyed the boxes they both held before leading the way back at a steady jogging pace. There was no need for an alarming amount of speed, which gave the unblooded amongst them to vent a little more surplus energy from their time onboard – more refreshing than fighting in the youngsters pit, by their reckoning. Pacing into the bridge, the trio bowed their heads towards the two more ornately-dressed Elders stood awaiting news. The boxes were presented, and clawed hands were placed on shoulders as signs of congratulation. The supplies were, after all, well needed. One left, grunting to himself before striding off down one of the two corridors.
"Got everything you need?" Her telepathy went unused for now, given her recent use of the magical energy naturally flowing inside her veins, as the remaining Elder addressed them verbally. He, like her and the tutoring hunter Horn, was marked out among their kind by the fact that he was almost albino. Scar was the only normal one out of the lot of them, but was unique in his own way by being the only one to survive an encounter with a facehugger. It had been removed surgically, but he'd feel discomfort from that area for the rest of his long lifetime. A small price to pay.
"Yes, I think so. We left some supplies there and I let the tree fall, so then the rest is safe."
With a nod of his crested head, he then turned in a swirl of red material before departing. Several unblooded youngsters passed, offering the occasional churring sound of acknowledgement before carrying on back to their shared quarters – until they did their first hard meat kill, they wouldn't gain their own. She had thankfully killed two, but one or two of the council members had violently disagreed given what she'd been before, which now kept her bunking in with Scar while continuing her training with Horn. Neither male minded, and actually seemed glad of the company at times.
x.x.x.x.x.x
She groaned heavily, leaning out of the vehicle once the sickness had finally passed. Whatever motion tablets she'd been given had well and truly knocked her out. It was a good thing that her speciality skills, geology and navigation, hadn't been necessary within the pyramid. Buzzing the window down once the commotion from outside reached her ears, she suddenly found herself face to face with something black, hissing and probably pissed off. The surprise didn't give her time to scream, only to register that it was in fact a threat to her existence. As it began to lean into the cabin, she had just a moment to notice the distortion on the edge of the slope moving rapidly towards them. But that didn't matter now. Waving her hand to constantly keep it distracted by blurring its vision a little, she began wheeling the window up while dodging the furious snaps of those duel jaws. Then, with three firm wrenches, she ducked just as the second jaw shot out, skimming her hair before a gurgling scream came from its throat as the glass finally broke its neck. The Xenomorph went limp, although it made a few futile thrashes as if in protest. Wrinkling her nose at the sight and about to reach for the latch, she then squirmed her way back from the door as it was opened. The distortion she'd seen earlier had decided to be nosy, and the camouflage faded to reveal a 7ft broad-shouldered masked humanoid with what looked like dreadlocks decorated with rings. The first thought that entered her head? Nice hairdo. Good god, here she was faced with an alien and she wanted to compliment it. Note to self: no more alcohol. That much she was able to tell at a first glance of course, before watching it as its hand made to move towards the monsters head. Oh hell no. She'd killed it. He was not getting away with messing up what she was going to clean up. She placed a hand on the smooth slope of the skull, beating his to it, and baring her teeth in a hiss. It'd been more of an automatic response than anything, but he'd made no words yet. So, logically, maybe noises would get through to him better.
He drew up then sharply, almost smacking his head on the roof before grunting and making a beckoning gesture. She, this small pale soft-flesh, had killed a hard meat. While she was prey, she had made herself, through that one act, worthy of being marked. That is how it was done. It'd been done before, so he'd heard through clan rumours and whispers – humans who aided them or killed hard-meat were marked to show this, to discourage predators from thinking them weak when on the Hunt again. It didn't take them off the menu so to speak, but it spoke of bravery and courage, and to be wary. Scar stood aside when she scampered out, noting the pale tinge to her cheeks before sniffing the air within the vehicle as he pulled the body out. She'd been sick, and not with the rest of her kind. Why didn't bother him at this point in time. He'd come to ensure that all the hard-meats were dead, and she'd made the job a little bit faster for him. Watching her stamp her feet on the ground for a moment, he drew himself up before chittering to himself in amusement behind the mask. She was so short! Females in his kind were larger than the males, so it also threw him to see the reverse difference in oomans. He then removed the hoses on either side of his mask, reaching up with his mottled, clawed hands before pulling it off with a pneumatic hiss. He could regard her properly now, and noted the look of fascination. Scar found it amusing, but also irritating at the same time. He didn't enjoy people flinching like he was the most hideous piece of filth on their shoes, but nor did he enjoy being gawped at like he was something alarmingly interesting. He flared his mandibles, shaking his head a little before letting out a roar. She leant back before tilting her head, baring her own teeth and attempted to mimic the sound.
Part of him bristled at the unspoken challenge, but the more logical side of him decided to accept the fact that she was trying to prove to him that she was worthy of the mark, regardless if she knew what he was going to do or not. Or did she? No, humans didn't have the trait of mind-speak, not that he'd ever heard of. Tugging off the finger he'd used to make the ritual marks on his own forehead, he then squeezed it to cause a little of the acid to appear before making a clicking noise. He watched intently as her eyes flicked from the finger to the mark. Then she nodded, before bowing her head to expose her forehead. Not where he'd intended to mark of course, but then again, she was consenting to it – where the symbol was made had no bearing on what it meant. The one he'd marked earlier that day had probably chosen her cheek at random. He carefully leant forwards, twitching his upper mandibles in concentration before making two elegant, careful streaks. She didn't flinch, but a quiet sort of whine came from her throat. No doubt at the feel of the acid eating into her flesh. Eyeing the body, he then grabbed it by the tail and tucked the now drained head under one of his arms before walking towards the area where he could detect his ship. Hearing silence behind him, Scar then peered over one of his shoulders before cocking his head and letting a trill out from between his mandibles and gesturing in a manner than made his dreadlocks fall over his shoulders. She paused. She had a mate, a life-partner. If she went with this creature now to honour her kill, who knew if she'd even survive? But on the other hand, she had no means to get back home and certainly no method of communication. She'd die in three days given the supplies in the van, tops. Therefore, this male was her only route to survival. Ignoring the clenching pain of heartache in her chest, she then scooted after him before picking up half of the creatures' body. It was hers, after all.