Author notes: Hi there! Thanks for reading the second chapter of the Hunter. I've been meaning for a while now to write some author notes but couldn't quite figure out how to do so. In the end I just gave up and wrote them at the start of this chapter.
Just want to give a large thanks to STCabbie for being a lovely beta for these first two chapters. Unfortunately I am now without a beta for the rest of my fic. So if any of you likes what I have written and/or think you could help me improve, I would absolutely love to hear from you.
Hope you enjoy this chapter
p.s. here's a picture of a drey for later on in this chapter: just imagine the squirrel is Eren :P
Two years later
Rain seemed to float through the air, sunlight streaming down, forming hundreds of small golden beads of light as the Hunter moved through the trees, fast as a swooping swallow.
Legs pointing tightly together, he pushed himself up and up with those black vines until there was no more branches to use, no higher height he could reach.
He hovered in the sky for a moment, body light, ragged green cloak flowing high above him, shaggy brown hair whipping around in the steady beat of wind and rain, before plummeting down again, crude spear in hand as he sliced down on the neck of his target. A medium type Titan who had, for the last ten minutes or so, been gormlessly trying to follow his movements.
He pushed off the thing's already-dissolving back and shot forwards the vine again, zooming forwards through the trees as another wave of golden water hit him. Spinning mid-air, he twirled the spear as the liquid arced off of him.
Letting the vine release he fell into a tree, jumping from branch to branch, using the silver bottled air to propel him onwards to the next tree. He didn't need much what with the way his body could, at will, become abnormally feather light, but he still conserved what little of the strange stuff he needed as he danced joyfully through the branches and trees, spying out for the lumbering bloated forms of his unevolved brethren.
Another stood tall in a clearing, medium type, eyes (again) glazed but heading purposefully forwards. Obviously it was one of the strange ones, but the Hunter would not be distracted by this.
With a deep growling roar he threw himself forward, spear spinning in his hand to gain momentum and force before he sliced it through the thing's nape, felling it before it even knew it's skin was breached.
He jumped up into the trees again with a joyful feral snarl as he surveyed his work.
Each day he grew closer and closer to those images in his mind. Green figures flying in the air, but not with a bird's desperate spluttering struggle of wings against the deep pull of the earth. If the hunter knew of dancing he would have likened their movement through the air to it, cutting down their attackers in fluid pirouettes and slicing leaps.
The hunter did not know what dancing was though.
What he did know what that his small spinning man was the best… green cloak with wings on his back, silver blades in hand, grounded yet fighting to the last breath and beyond, small against the forest floor compared to the salivating giant before it.
He remembered…
Not moving, barely breathing, as ferocity and strength condensed into one small figure fought against the hunger.
Another human! Another real human!
Then the smell of blood wafted over. The human was injured.
For a moment his mouth pooled with saliva but he quickly shook his head.
No. Just no.
Never.
He took several thundering steps forwards, stopping when the small human's eyes found his. Dazed with blood the small creature met his gaze without fear.
This surprised the Hunter for he knew what he looked like. What he was.
Then the human was about to be eaten and the Hunter was suddenly moving.
It was painfully easy for him to kill the other Titan. Compared to the forceful struggle and the bright beauty of those flying humans from before, and the now sleeping one before him, it felt... empty somehow. But at that time he couldn't think of why. Instead he tentatively cradled the all but broken human in his hand and left the red scented grove.
He breathed in deeply, eyes flickering from tree to tree until he found one of his old dreys, a little nest of branches, grass and moss high in the tree tops. He had only used this one twice before, if his memory served right, but a weave of grass still covered it and it looked warm enough.
Slowly, carefully he climbed up the large tree, placing the sleeping human on a higher branch near the large hollow mound of soft bark and dry grass, high above any wondering jaws.
With a deep breath the Hunter fixed his hand over the branch and concentrated.
Pain erupted like goosebumps over his body, like liquid metal had solidified through his veins only to be sharply, agonisingly ripped out. He wrenched his head back, small eyes opening wide to searing white light.
Taking a deep breath of steaming blood filled air he pulled his shuddering arms and legs out of the red muscles that encased them. Unsteadily he climbed his other body's arm before it dissolved too much. He had to hurry, already the grip slackened.
Running now he leaped forwards just in time to reach the branch as the flesh melted away and the body fell back onto the forest floor with a echoing thud.
Ignoring his own body spread out, broken on the grass so far below he jumped up to the next branch to examine the human.
Soft pained puffs of breath escaped the small human as he bent over it, his slim smooth hands weaving through its hair as he checked for injuries.
It made a soft noise, huffing slightly in its sleep and the Hunter froze, staring down at it. The human didn't wake however, simply wincing faintly in its sleep before it's brow smoothed and body calmed.
The hunter's ocean eyes flickered over it. The human was larger than him... this caused the Hunter to puff out a faint breath of amusement.
Still not the same size.
He shook himself free of these thoughts, instead sliding his hands under the human's head and legs to carefully pick it up and place it within his soft moss carpeted drey. He hunched down to squeeze in after it, quickly ripping strips of material off of the human's chest for his crude bandages.
Hmm... Definitely a male human...
He wondered why humans wore so much over their bodies. Surely it did not help with their movements. He understood having coverings over the hips as it was good for bearing weight and a useful place to attach knifes and pouches for objects like he did but... the Hunter shook his head at the bizarre habits of humans and busied himself with his work.
As the Hunter bustled around the cramped drey, humming faintly while collecting dry moss and grass, he missed the human's grey eyes opening into faint slits for a moment before drifting shut again. He did, however, notice when the human's breathing evened out and deepened.
He brought his small hand across the human's bare chest and worried for a moment at the coldness seeping over him.
Damn it. I don't know enough about humans. Are they supposed to be this cold?
He forcibly focused instead on wrapping the head with the dried vegetation and strips of white material like he had done for the deer with the broken leg.
Not too tight but enough to secure, to stop the bleeding. He had to be so very light with his touch.
Breathing through his nose to avoid tasting the scent of blood and focused on his task, he didn't notice the Titans below them until the tree started to shake.
He pushed his head out of the small entrance of the drey and looked down briefly at his two brethren, who mournfully clawed at the base of the thick trunk, before snorting and turning back to his work.
For a moment the Hunter simply looked at his finished handy work, then his eyes travelled down to the human's face.
How different it was to those he saw each day. Small, perfectly formed, not deformed at all. The Hunter's eyes roamed from small nose and thin pale lips to dark lashes and shadowed tired eyes.
His hands inched forward, ghosting over the narrow chin. A faint sense of warmth seeping through the small gap between the human's skin and his finger tips.
Then the tree shook again and the hunter sighed, pulling back his fingers and instead wrapping his human in the green sheet he wore to pull him carefully out of the rough shelter.
Because that was what he was now. His human. As if he was going to let those lumbering fools eat him!
He jumped from the branch, the palm of his right hand in his mouth, snorting again as he saw the ugly things underneath open their jaws wide as if they could swallow him whole.
Instead their jaws were pulverised into the forest floor as a pair of giant feet smashed down. He slammed down his fists on what was left of their necks once more as he impatiently waited for the bones and flesh on his feet to click back into place and mend.
It was difficult to pick up his human now. Conscious of the bloody wounds and scared of jostling him, the hunter moved agonisingly slowly up and down the tree and through the forest, holding his human in the palm of his hand as he followed the faint scent of the rest of the humans.
He moved even slower and silently as the scent grew stronger.
Yes he admired these creature's fluid forms and wind like fighting, but much like another would have admired fire or lightning.
Beautiful but dangerous.
The hunter blinked now, tearing his thoughts away from what happened next all those years ago. He didn't wa- didn't need to think about thatmoment again.
Instead he sighed and moved further up into the tree, tying his cable to one of the branches and anchoring himself down. There were no dreys nearby tonight. He would have to be exposed to the elements, it didn't really matter too much to him.
Rain continued to stream down his face, inky and black now as the storm clouds consumed the last hints of the golden sunset.
The night was filled with the heavy sound of rainfall, the steady beat of droplets on the earth, the slapping noise on the leaves. The sounds a deafening roar and soothing melody at the same time as the hunter lay back, pulling the hood up, water steaming up in clouds from his body as he tried to rest.
However the images continued to flash through his mind.
Finally he had turned away from the edge of the forest, long after the last humans had faded from sight, moving slowly across the forest and finding the dell where he saw his human.
Now all that remained was the scent of blood and- something hanging down from the trees.
As he got closer he realised it was human shaped and his pace sped up, only to slow again when the lack of a chest became apparent.
The hunter had a limited knowledge of humans but even he knew that they needed those to live.
The forest was quiet as he watched the former human sway silently in the wind.
Suddenly a deep anger clawed up through his chest, choking his very breath as he bent over, unable to look up at the sad little thing.
So much like him... Like her...
Its nape was intact but humans were much more delicate than Titans... No steam would build as it mended itself. The humans could not mend like that, much like he couldn't as fast while in the similar form.
...Yet the Titans continued to attack and try to eat them. Why? It wasn't like they needed food. The sun has always been enough for the Hunter.
Slowly he lifted up his huge hand to pick up the human, gently pulling the vines out of the nearby trees and maneuvering it out of the stringed belt.
He stared at it, wondering faintly if it was like his human or not. Its face was broader with light red hair and it seemed to be larger and hefty in comparison.
He wasn't sure how long he simply looked at the human's body, eyes mapping the tiny scratches on it's pale face and the pattern of weaving in it's clothes, before he decided he should do something with the body. He didn't want the other Titans eating any more humans today.
He picked up the figure and the strings that once were attached to them and moved further into the forest.
Another splash of blood scent in the wind and he stopped again. This one was on the ground this time, the wind rustling through its long sand coloured hair.
The hunter bent down and picked it up, freeing it from its wires and heavy objects.
This one was different again, thinner and slighter with dried tear tracks on its pale blood-flecked face. He looked at the slender frame and compared it with an old memory.
This one is female , he realised.
By the end of the day he ended up collecting two dozen of those bodies and with each the pit of pain and burning inside became larger and larger, making his eyes scratch and chest wheeze as he gently stroked the smallest one's sun toned hair.
He removed the metal belts from each and wrapped all but three of them (of which there was so little to wrap he removed their sheets and objects and placed them together) in their green sheets like he did with his human.
Only these ones didn't pull in small tight breaths. They were still, frozen in place, mutilated.
He took them to the caves and pushed them deep inside, away from the reach of most of his kind. To protect them from all of his kind, he placed rocks in front of the entrance, cramming them in tight then setting a huge bolder he had seen not too great a distance away, in front to completely seal them in their chamber, undisturbed, together in their pretend slumber.
But they were not asleep and he knew the reason why.
The Hunter growled low and deep.
It was time to live up to his name once again.
A crash of lightning brought the hunter out of his mind again and he sat up, rain hammering even harder against him, soaking his cloak, managing to spread a chill through his limbs.
Untangling the equipment from the branches, he sighed and jumped out of the tree, not using his silver air or vines as he free-fell to the earth.
The Titan hunter hit the earth, sending waves of wet soil up into the air only to fall around his suddenly enormous frame with soft sodden thumps.
He laid against the base of several trees, away from the worst of the wind and cold, in his larger body he always found the cold harder to reach him.
He closed his eyes with a huffing breath, sleep still wasn't coming…
For a while after the encounter he would visit the cave every day, staring at the large boulder, wanting oh so much to move it and see those small faces again, so much like his human's, so much like hers.
But he didn't. Instead he traced his sharp barbed fingers over the rocks, thinking of the small wings they wore on their backs.
How did they soar through the air like that? As if they had real wings, not just fake ones... No- they are different from birds- no spluttering, whistling flap of feather . They used vines and those silver belt things...
Those belt things which he still had...
He stood up to leave but then he paused, looking back at the caves.
Kneeling down on one knee he drew his sharp nails over the rock, creating crude round wings through deep cuts and cold stone.
He snorted out a deep breath of steam then stood and left.
He would never came back there again.
Instead he examined the belts high in one of his more up-kept dreys with small sensitive hands, while his other body decayed below, remembering the positions those humans were in while wearing them.
There was a lot of trial and error.
First he spent a week actually figuring out how to wear the thing. It wasn't based simply over the waist as he first thought. There seemed to be thinner vines crossing from where his feet were, to connect at the top of his thighs, across his hips and over his back.
The connections were hard to figure out but he remembered taking them off and thought carefully about how to put them on.
Many were in fact snapped so in the end he tied most of them tight together instead, using knots of tough grass to secure them. He had plenty of the black vine to tie though, he was much smaller than those humans in his little form.
The most important part was the belt though, which attached to the vines.
There was a large shiny cylinder which appeared to contain the thicker black vines and a smaller one which he didn't quite understand at first, he left it connected however and concentrated instead on how to shoot the vines out like he saw them do.
That one took a long time to figure out, especially as the belt he wore was missing parts. Something he did not realise until he punctured the silver vine container and looked for a replacement in the other belts.
After realising his error the Hunter made a point of comparing each piece of equipment, taking pieces out of one and fitting them to another to create a whole belt. After that it was a process of elimination to figure out how to fire the things.
The first time he got it, squeezing the silver handle, he found himself pulled face first into a tree.
After that he was slightly more careful.
He found himself several days later balancing between two trees. Face working up a sweat as he struggled to remain upright.
He held a new respect for those humans.
How did they even stay upright in these stupid things?
Every day he debated throwing the blasted things down to the bottom of the hidden valleys but then images of flying green cloaks and silver spinning arcs of fight and power would fill his mind and he would think…
One more. One more time.
And one day he woke up, put on the gear and was able to do it- until he fell face forward into a branch one minute later.
Well… it was still an improvement.
Shaking himself off and reattaching the vines, he made ready to start again.
Hunter sighed to himself now, shrouding his body in mist as he once again tried to concentrate on resting, calming his excitable mind that wished to continue with its exhilarating flight in the dark, no matter that the sun was gone.
He turned over and stared at the mud beneath his palm. Slowly he pulled his finger along the soil, carefully dragging it along and smiling as the indents took shape.
A thin chin, narrowed eyes, hair falling evenly onto his face.
He blinked and suddenly the image became simple lines in the earth.
He snorted and kicked his foot through it, turning away to look out at the sky instead, watching the rain drops grow larger and larger till they broke themselves on his skin.
Rest was a long time coming.
