The Hallelujah Mountains were a sight to behold, and as the messenger Ahoragi returned from his delivery to the Ikran People, a sight that was stranger than wondrous befell his eyes. It was the Tsahik who noticed it first, a swath of destroyed vegetation at the foot of one of the floating mountains. They urged their Ikran lower, circling widely as they tried to make sense of it. Deciding to put himself at risk, Ahoragi motioned for his companions to stay where they were as he guided his Ikran to a soft landing on the torn forest floor below. The mount screeched in apprehension, and he quieted it with soft words and a stroke of its muzzle. Heading on, he could tell that something large had fallen from the sky. It was almost like when the Sky People would crash, back before the war. Except, in this instance there was no burning or fire that the Sky People usually made. The snapped trees and underbrush was slick with something, and Ahoragi hesitantly touched his fingers to it; blood. The blood was everywhere…as if whatever had caused the trough of destruction had bled the entire length.

He was afraid now, deathly afraid. There was no cause yet as to what had happened, but it was clear that it had been a terrible sight indeed. A droning, buzzing sound became apparent to his ears, and he realized that this was the first sound he had heard in the forest since landing. Moving swiftly forward, Ahoragi stopped in his tracks at the swarm of riti before him. He shooed them away, which took a considerable amount of time, and it was then that the red hide became visible to him. That sight itself made him scramble for safety, even knowing that the hide belonged to a carcass as opposed to a live animal.

The corpse of the Toruk was evident, even from his hiding place. Ahoragi stood up, realizing his relative safety, stepping forward lightly. As he got closer, a shiver ran up his spine, causing him to pause. A new wave of fear shook him, not from the body, but from what it represented. The head was gone, a lifeless stump with clotted blood indicated where it had been. Toruk was the "last shadow" the hunter of the hunters. There was nothing that he could think of that would be able to do such a thing to a Toruk. He remembered the strange happenings that were occurring, the reason for his mission to the Ikran people. Jakesully and the others needed to know of this soon. A croaking, alien sound echoed from the forest around him. He snapped his head around in all directions, trying to find the source. Ahoragi had the sinking feeling that he was being watched. No longer curious, he sprinted to his Ikran, leaping onto its back as he urged it into the air.


Earlier…

There was one creature on the planet that was desired above all others. With the contest of wills underway, the Yautja were in full competition with one another. This next kill would ensure that any other trophies that were taken would pale in comparison. Sharpening his wrist-blades with the laser sight, the Yaujta was crouched at the cliff face of one of the floating mountains. The strange radiation around the area interfered with his helmet's vision modes, the laser designator and the adaptive cloak. He shed them all, ready to prove himself as a hunter among hunters. He had been tracking the habits of his current prey for days. The smaller, blue-hued fliers were especially liked by the prey, and were feasted on at regular intervals, It invoked a sense of nostalgia, seeing the large red one prey on the others. The ultimate predator. Churring at the thought, he readied himself, stepping up to the edge of the cliff.

The prey flew below, hundreds of feet underneath his feet. With a guttural roar, he pushed off the edge, the wind whipping past his face as his mandibles opened in a mixture of excitement, exhilaration and primal power. Extending his wrist-blades fully, he dives head-first, blades pointed towards his target. The prey's head whips up, suddenly alert to the menace about it. As large as it is, it cannot maneuver quickly enough, and there is a satisfying feeling as the blades sink into the fleshy wings of the prey. A loud roar of pain and anger echoes off of the mountain faces, the large bloody tear causing the animal to falter in the air, no longer able to keep suitable lift. Both plummeted in a spiraling fall of epic proportions, cries and roars of anger as they grappled in a death grip. Using the wrist-blades to hold on, the Yautja moved to the anterior, sinking his right wrist-blades deep into the Toruk's chest. It roared in rage and pain, continuing its spiraling descent, trying to crane its neck around to snap at the thing that dared to attack it.

Neither was prepared for the impact of the ground. The force knocked the Yautja free of its death-grip on the Toruk, landing several yards away. Both were still, the only movement coming from the Toruk's wings as they flapped uselessly, unable to gather force with the membranes cut to ribbons. After a few moments, the Yautja stirred, picking its head up and shaking itself free of the momentary disorientation. Sheathing its wristblades, the Yautja stalked over to the Toruk, wary of its wounded prey. With a mighty shake of the ground, the Toruk lashed out with its talons, a quick jump the only thing keeping the Yautja from being torn asunder. With its own dominant growl of displeasure, the Yautja charged ahead, launching itself into the air as it extended a combi-stick. When it landed, the sharp tip dug itself deep into the Toruk's fleshy breast, and it bucked in rage once more. With a mighty thrust, the Toruk shook off its attacker once more, sending the Yautja tumbling into the ruined underbrush. The Toruk struggled with the combi-stick imbedded into its chest, trying vainly to pull it out. It was bleeding badly, but the excitement and the anger it held was keeping him alive, fueling his rage as he stumbled to his clawed feet, looking for the thing that dared to challenge his rule of the sky.

The Yautja stood up, growling its predatory warning as it saw the Toruk rise to its feet. With the loss of the combi-stick, the only weapon remaining was a smart-disc and the dual wrist-blades. It dismissed the idea of the smart-disc; the prey was resilient, and the smart-disc lacked the intimacy that it wanted for the kill. Both opponents squared off, neither making a move as they each gauged their opponent. Clenching its fists, the Yautja was the first to strike, extending the wrist-blades and launching into a manic dash forward. The Toruk snapped forward, its massive jaws opening to devour its attacker. The Yautja ducked and dodged the attack, bringing its left wrist-blades up underneath the jaw. A gurgling roar escaped the Toruk's mouth, and a swipe of its right wrist-blades severed the head from the body. Blood jetted out from the wound, splashing the foliage, ground and the hunter in a crimson bath. With a mighty howl of accomplishment, the Yautja retracted its blades, placing its hands under the severed head and lifting the trophy in triumph.

A static crackling made it look up, as its brother hunter stood in the trees, looking down at the killing field. The successful hunter went to the corpse, removing its combi-stick from the chest and using its wrist-blades to cut open the upper torso. Breaking the ribcage, it dug into the body, exerting force as it pulled out the Toruk's mighty heart. Gesturing to its onlooker brother, the Yautja clicked its mandibles, churring before taking a bite of the organ, tossing the rest to the ground and beating its chest.