A/N-Very important announcement to be made, don't forget to read the notes at the end of the chapter!

Chapter 35

Hide and Seek

/

Scatter through the game board

Find your most sheltered glen

Play as if you can't be found

Or you'll lose everything then

They're already on the trail

Move faster, as the hourglass drains

Play deception with close hands

Take every chance to make gains

Because in this one game it's true

The world is on the line

If they win the searcher's score

Blood will be the ending sign

-0-

Rocky's skin was crawling, and it wasn't because of the ants that kept falling onto him and the others from the dripping wet vegetation around them.

Rather, it was a sensation coming back from his old military days, the feeling of being crown deep in enemy territory and somehow knowing you were being watched. The worst part was, he felt he already knew who he was being watched by, and the knowledge didn't make the sensation any more tolerable. No footsteps or out of place scents were reaching his ears or nose, and movement beyond leaves in the occasional weak draft was nonexistent around them. That level of stealth in this kind of environment could only be pulled off by someone who had lived there all their lives.

It had to be a native, or several, the Arctic fox had long since concluded, and if they decided to engage that meant he and those with him would be stuck either fighting and likely killing mammals or reptiles that were probably relatively innocent in this mess, or praying that one of the agents present knew the language the natives spoke and could convince them to step away from the fighting or rebel against the Primalists. Rocky knew one of the New Guinea tongues, and he could bet among the agents there might be one or two other shaky language bases for the area to work with, but it was an unstable hope. Each tribe, after all, possibly had their own unique dialect, and there were at least dozens of groups that still lived more primitively on the island.

The road they had been skirting had traveled more or less east off the runway, before angling north between a pair of low mountain ridges. Rocky hoped they were going at least adjacent in the right direction, or that the mountains opened back up soon for a more straight shot to where they needed to go if not (and with the direction the Sparrow had said Avery was going, that seemed the more likely option). But, he knew the construction of the earth was not set up with the whim of every individual animal on it in mind. Getting the whole group over a ridge and away if anything went haywire would be exhausting too, and leave himself vulnerable afterward. Not the best thing if a fight was to be nearby.

A fight seemed soon to occur too; one look at Harrison told the tod that it wasn't just his currently hyperactive senses that were picking up an imbalance. The jaguar was definitely more on edge than just the search alone would have called for, and he met Rocky's gaze with a confirmation: he thought they were being stalked as well.

Words were unwise at best right then, leaving them planning contingencies and countermoves silently and trying to figure out how to deal with their followers. A confrontation was far from a goal; if the natives were an uninvolved tribe just tracking them to observe then there was no harm, and if they were hunting them in order to locate the agents for the Primalists to deal with, then trying to force a conflict would see them vanish without a trace into the forest, and any actual fight would eat up precious time. Losing their trail would be just as if not harder to manage though. Rocky had plenty of tricks and the agents all had at least some if not an extensive amount of seasoned field experience in vanishing into the wild, but they all knew nothing, but nothing, surpassed the ability of an indigenous tribe to follow anyone and anything on their own land.

For now, an attempt to at least maintain distance and perhaps a sense of hidden strength among them was the silent agreement. Half their contingent was relatively small –Pristovena the pygmy hog, Morel the spotted quoll, and Lubela the springbok- so they were kept to the interior of the party while the others ringed them, and postures were kept stiffly confident even if they didn't all feel it.

The sensation never left the fox's neck fur though, and Rocky fought the itch to drain a bit of energy into mapping the living things around them with an infrared or bio-filter hologram. Better to store if for a fight, or direct a bit as he already was to just enhancing his already keen senses.

Ever along the road they traveled, not actually on the path itself of course but making their way through smaller trails and clearings about thirty yards adjacent. The few times Harrison had cut away to check the track itself though hadn't been very enlightening, or promising. Overgrown, not much in the way of discernible recent wheel tracks, and no one had picked up any helpful scents either, but then the rainforest could have taken care of that aspect days ago. Once or twice Morel had scurried up a tree to try and get a vantage of their location too, and similarly nothing yet had appeared.

Mack had noted though that in his aerial surveillance through the satellite imaging he was most prominently using (when he could through his own interference web) there were a few structures built along this path, and a few other larger clearings here and there that could be equally promising if whatever the Primalists had constructed near the rift was subterranean. But, the same still set also for the other two teams dispatched in other directions. Old buildings everywhere, some older and more primitive than others, and mystery open spots in the jungle that could be made by any sort of disturbance.

At least none of the known Primalists had shown up yet, a small blessing Rocky decided, but nobody dared voice that for fear of that small sliver of luck running out.

And so, the travel stayed stagnant. Minutes stretched like hours, and eventually hours like days, ever with that same feeling crawling on their backs of being watched but no threat yet making itself known. Both Rocky and Harrison were beginning to reach that point of being so put off by it that they were hoping something would change, just so they've have something they could do about it.

Arrival at the first rather obviously artificial clearing along the track finally broke the monotony, and with relief that they had a space to investigate the posse of agents spread out, ears high and guns drawn as they assessed the border first for hidden surprises. Nothing revealed itself there, and Rocky stationed himself, Harrison, and the wildebeest Treba equidistant around the edges, Lubella and Morel a short ways within to watch the skies and their backs, while Pristovena began to systematically check the clearing for traps or hidden entrances to caves or bunkers (pockmarked as some of the mountains in this place were with such holes in the ground, the lower slopes could be as well).

It was somewhat odd watching the little hog scurry through the grass, poking at things and rooting around. Rocky had his eyes and ears swiveling in all directions, but couldn't help anyway tracking the smaller mammal in his progress at the same time. Pristovena was their veritable expert on the topic after all, and the wild environment seemed to be no less different to him than testing sensors and alarms on a mid-city facility. A long pole felt through the tufts of grass and vine tangles in front of him, seeking triggers to mines, snares, or other possibly lethal traps, while a sensor array he carried scanned the ground for non-native structures and electrical systems.

A third of the way across the field the pole Pristovena was carrying hit a small branch, and the branch snapped upward, carrying with it an interlocking series of spiked bars made of bamboo and thorns. Everyone around the clearing jerked in shock, freezing for several moments as the disturbing snare clanked and shuddered from its sudden release. Had anyone gotten caught in that thing, armor and vests or not they would have been skewered in a dozen places; even Pristovena, the one who'd purposefully set it off, stared at it for several seconds with disturbed eyes and rapidly beating heart.

Nothing showed up to investigate the trap however, no new sounds or smells that anyone could detect, so without any warnings coming up from his compatriots the hog did not wait long to resume his search (though he gave the disturbing snare a wide berth). After another ten minutes, the clearing was covered thoroughly, and he signaled to the others an all clear. The rest moved to meet him in the center (Harrison and Morel, the closest ones to the one trap that had been triggered, also gave the thing plenty of space), and Rocky knelt down for a moment as the rest kept watch around him and spread out a rough topographical map of the area that they'd been able to print out and store away before their arrival.

"We're roughly here," he said softly, pointing to the head of a valley that split in two following the forks of a stream between the mountains. "The peaks rise up ahead and to the right of us, but still a ridge as well between us and the bigger valley to the west here. Mack said most of the structures he saw were along the stream and path forking this way," his finger followed the northwest arm of the valley, "which with Avery's original trajectory is probably our best bet anyway. Trouble is the forest will grow denser too, especially as we hit the uplands and cloud forest areas, and visibility will drop from the clouds that will eventually move in there."

"Then we'll stay closer together to remain within visual range of each other, and move slower," Morel offered. He gestured up at the sky, which was blanketed already in puffy clouds and beginning to display the characteristic hues of evening. "Most of us might have more advantage come nightfall too; Treba and Lubella have their goggles but the rest of us have natural nocturnal vision. We don't have to stop moving when the sun goes down."

"He's got a fair point, "Harrison agreed, kneeling down and tracing the map (though not without checking over his shoulder again as the sensation on the back of his neck briefly grew stronger. Nothing showed though). "Only problem is as it gets darker the locals will also gain more advantage with their knowledge of the land. However, and feel free to disagree if you think I'm wrong, but I'm not certain anymore that we have much to worry about from the natives directly."

"Actually I was getting the same notion," Rocky agreed, nodding slightly as his head came up to look around again. "I'm almost sure at this point someone is following us, but if Lotera and whoever else he's working with here had managed to convince them to join them fully that we ought to be eliminated, I think we'd have been treating arrow wounds and poison darts within an hour of leaving the runway. The ones that were with the Primalists during the attack when we landed may have gotten spooked by our last hurrah in that conflict, so they might just lead the actual problem mammals to us rather than join in again in being part of the problem."

"Don't forget the only ones Psitticoney saw were Singing Dogs too," Treba added. "We might find other tribes in the area who have no knowledge of the fight here. Or, we might cross a boundary and disrupt someone's territory which won't be any better than fighting the ones the Primalists are using."

Unfortunate, but true. Rocky let out a quiet sigh and resisted the urge to drag a paw down his muzzle, rolling up the map and standing back up as he tucked it away. "It's a risk we're gonna have to take," he said, head turning toward the tree line on the north side of the clearing. "Tonight we'll keep tracking the path along the valley, and if nothing shows up we cut though and over the ridge to get a better vantage point. Keep your goggles or glasses on if you have them, collars up no matter how hot it gets, and tails tucked."

Turning, the fox carefully picked his steps out of the clearing again, the others spreading out on either side of him once more as they entered the trees. There was a particularly large one cloaked in vines just ahead of him, and for a moment Rocky had the notion of seeing if this one was any taller than the rest and possibly provide a good off-ground view of the area. However they were currently too low in the valley for it to likely show much beyond the faint line between the trees nearby where the old road cut, so he shrugged off the idea of climbing the tree and instead stepped around it with his ears high.

He halted barely half a second later, eyes wide in shock and growing concern, when he found himself nose-to-face with a snake coiled around a low branch, faintly striped body blending with the moss and bark, and its small, blue-black eyes fixed on him only an inch from his snout.

"Shit."

Nocturnal as she naturally was (at least during summer weather), there were a dozen reasons Skye could list right off the top of her head why field stints in the dark were among her least favorite parts of a mission. The tropical environment they were in now only added to the insult, beads of sweat running through and soaking her fur under her suit and forcing her to find as many safe pools of water as she could along her search to stay hydrated and at least a touch cooler. The moisture she was pouring off was also mixing in with the dirt and paints she'd had to use to color her blindingly white natural tone so as not to stick out so prominently in the forest, creating a muddy film that made her fur mat and clump. So uncomfortable.

The darkness that had begun to settle in at least brought a slight amount of relief from the heat, but the Arctic vixen was already soaked to the bone and humidity did not permit drying out. She knew the other canid in her party, Fangel, wasn't doing too much better either. But, the mission was at hand and far more important than their own personal comfort.

The last rays of the sun were only just now vanishing fully, and even with a half-moon on its way up soon the thick canopy of the jungle meant there was next to no light at all on the forest floor where most of them were. Only Dax had the advantage of being able to cruise above the canopy where light was more plentiful, but he still had to duck below to scan with any efficiency with the infrared goggle attachments he had on him, and that left him at risk there too.

And speaking of the odd little mustelid, Skye was beginning to grow concerned. He hadn't reported back from his last scouting mission in nearly 40 minutes, stretching the time he was usually gone nearly twice over. There was a chance he'd found something, but then she would have expected at least a radio signal relay of some sort. Nothing had come from Mack either, who probably should have been able to focus through his own tech barrier over the area to see if there was anything in their immediate vicinity worth nothing. Skye could only hope Dax had simply found a second path and was following it a ways before returning, or something similar.

The situation was just feeling off though. She hadn't gotten any readings on the sensors she was wearing, but the fox knew in a habitat this dense it didn't mean much. She glanced to her right, where she was just within visual range of the leopardess Forsythe. The big cat was only just visible to her at the distance they were split by, but Forsythe nevertheless caught her movement and looked over as well, silently conveying her assessment: nothing seen or heard yet beyond the nighttime songs of the rainforest animals, but she wasn't liking the situation much better than Skye was. Skye could see Forsythe's tail twitching by her legs, one anxious tick few cats ever seemed to be able to control at all times, and that told her no scents were coming through to clear up the picture either. She reached up carefully and keyed on her headset.

"Vela, Fangel, you picking up anything?"

"Nothing but a bad feeling," Vela replied in a whisper, Fangel mirroring her sentiment only a moment later.

Skye pursed her lips and peered over her shoulder into the gloom, gripping the pistol in her paw tighter. Crickets and beetles chirped and clicked behind practically every dripping leaf hanging off the tangled trunks and shrubs, dampening any other sounds that might have filtered through the understory and giving the fox the feeling of having put on sound machine headphones. A worrying thought (just the latest of many) ran through her mind and she looked up, half expecting to find the glimmer of eye shine somewhere in the branches high above their heads, or a dark shape flitting through those same said branches that wouldn't fit Dax's profile. Still nothing, but the sense wasn't abating.

"Shift west another thirty yards," the vixen ordered quietly through the headset. "Ease away from the road, come together a touch more. Start looking for more defensible positions as well, cover for our sides and from above."

With a silent obedience immediately from the one agent she could see directly (Forsythe), Skye began to pick her way also slowly in the direction of her compatriots. She ignored as best she could the brush of leaves and spider webs across her limbs and face, trying to forget the more disturbing and macabre aspects of Embron's nature monologues about the tropics (that coyote was truly fascinated with the most dangerous and unknown features of the wild, and loved making others uncomfortable talking about the things he liked, but at the moment that habit was backfiring with them now in one of those dangerous places). Every insect's call or distant cry of a non-sentient bird stuttered her steps in overarching caution, a serious problem on a mission so time-sensitive.

Something cracked.

Skye froze, pistol swinging up in the direction of the sound and all of her senses reeling into overdrive. Her eyes strained to pick up details in the ink-black shadows that even her fully dilated nocturnal pupils couldn't see through, ears twitched to face every rustle, but not another part of her dared even flinch. Nearby, Forsythe had also followed her lead and gone motionless, the reaction following down the short line and all of them stood as if part of the earth itself, waiting for something to reveal itself.

Just as every time before though, nothing did. Nonetheless several minutes passed before Skye finally lowered the gun, ignoring the slight ache that had developed from holding that position for so long. Muscle fatigue would fade shortly anyway, and there were bigger concerns at present.

"Everyone gather," she said as softly as she could while still being heard. "Dax hasn't checked in for a while; Dax, can you hear us still?"

No answer, and a chill struck Skye's spine. She spotted Fangel, and then finally Vela materialize between the trees, each sharing her discomfited expression. Unless Mack's cover had failed, some response should have been given.

"Dax? Copy, please," Skye tried again.

This time, there was a click, but only a second or two of static followed before it cut out. Now a hard knot twisted her insides as Skye tried a different tactic, switching to their second line.

"Mack, tell me it's your net in the way here please."

"Not m…Skye," the red wolf's voice immediately returned, though choppy from a failing signal and full of disgust. "Desir…plugged into…system, starting to get…way. Working on…should get ready…attack."

The Arctic vixen bit back a curse and shifted her pistol to one paw, drawing out a dart with the other as she resumed full focus on the forest around her. Desireigh had gotten into her system and started playing her side of the game was what she had gathered, and the interference, especially if it was just local, meant she might have gotten a temporary glimpse at where Skye and her group were located and was fighting to keep them from communicating. One of the true Primalist teams was probably closing in then.

Then the earpiece came alive again. "Skye! Getting through yet?"

"Dax, finally!" Skye exclaimed in half-whisper. "How far are"-

"Coming in, but we've got a tail!" Dax cut her off. "Damn bat's popped up here once so far, may or may not have located me with his sonar chatter, so whoever he's with is probably on the way too. Taking roundabout to hopefully throw him off if he did spot me!"

"Find cover if you can," Skye ordered. "Mack said Desireigh may have already pinged us, and we can handle a ground group."

"Not running from a fight, Wellinger. We'll take every paw we've got in play, no ifs, buts, or maybes."

Internally Skye groaned, but she hadn't really expected a different response. These were friends of Rocky and the Canistons after all, and she'd yet to meet one that wasn't stubborn as an ox (no offense to oxen). Instead, she focused on the others. "Ring up and weapons out."

They had already begun to even before she gave the order, but the group did shuffle toward the base of a larger tree as well, protected at least on one side so they could keep a better eye out and above.

Full stillness within the forest returned save the local insects, with all the agents listening both for any approaching paws and the peculiar sound of Dax's soft engines. The lack of light felt constricting, suffocating, and the bugs and dripping sweat began causing itches and uncomfortable spots on them all, but not a one moved to relieve the discomfort lest the motion give them away.

They didn't have to wait long this time however. Between the trees a gunshot echoed, soon followed by the blurry image of Dax swerving between branches as he headed for, and then inexplicably cut around behind them. Skye hoped it was a move intended to misdirect whoever had been holding that discharged weapon.

Another gunshot echoed from an even larger barrel, none of their own, and the sound of a shattering sapling very near to Forsythe's left flank replied to the report. They'd been found, and now the stage was set for an all-out brawl again.

Mack had sent one drone out to try and catch up with Rocky's group to give them the aerial surveillance the other two teams had on paw already, even if keeping it low to the trees to minimize the risk of detection meant it would be another couple hours before it reached them, but now he was seriously contemplating sending a couple more out after a system weapons check was done to try and assist the other teams further too.

Hunkered still in the cockpit of the Primalist jet, he'd tracked the progress of them all while trying simultaneously to pinpoint where the Primalist parties also were, but with all the radio and satellite disruption components he was running and with a lack of any good infrared systems on local satellites or towers to use to his advantage (what he wouldn't have given for a good LIDAR scan in the area right now), as soon as Desireigh had apparently gotten herself hooked up and ready to battle even the radio channel sweeps he'd been able to make had gone dark as a lead. Now, he was in a constant code war with the lizard, pushing and pulling in the cybersphere to try and keep her well away from the channels they were using and attempt to get back into the ones the Primalists had picked out.

Unfortunately, Desireigh had gotten in at least one lucky shot already. She'd booted Mack out of one satellite for about 45 seconds, long enough for her to get a singular radio pin on Skye's group and cut into their communications, scrambling them. Mack had no question that she'd also immediately relayed the info to the nearest hunting party, so he'd poured on the pressure (leaving the one drone out to autopilot itself for now) to get the satellite back and knock the monitor away from peeking in on Skye's group again.

The damage was done though, so all he could do further for them was give a relay to Skye when the fox had called him to complain about Desireigh's trick. Hopefully she'd gotten in enough of his words over the static still present to understand.

Mack knew the fight for any one group could swing either way if the Primalists were equally matched (and he prayed fervently that the menagerie Avery and Saber had hired on were not as specially trained as they themselves), so as soon as he was certain he had another decent hold against his reptilian opponent he was not going to wait on sending out the other drones he had to spare. If they were brought down in the process it wouldn't surprise him, but hopefully it would provide an edge somewhere in the process. What they could really use, though, were heavier forces to sweep the jungle and overwhelm Lotera and his associates.

Thinking about numbers brought up two other thoughts: Mack realized he still needed to find out who was providing the finances the Primalists had been using, as whoever it was certainly wasn't the Thylacine, not with how off-map he stayed. Even trying to trace the codes for the jet he was sitting in (after a very satisfying clean system hack; Desireigh would go ballistic if it happened that she ever got back around to checking on the plane) had turned up naught so far for purchases and origin.

The other thought was to patch back in to Matista again, across the channel he'd made sure first and foremost was hack-free and clear through the interference.

"Yes, Mack?"

"Afternoon Justin. Or mid-morning as it probably is over there. Any merciful words of good fortune from Trevahe yet?"

He could almost feel the silent sigh from the sloth on the other end. "She, just, began, negotiations with, New, Guinea, Prime, Minister, James, Maegpye, to, permit, forces, into, the, country, on a, large, scale. But, it, will, be, a, few, hours, before, they, finish. Trevahe, did, tell, me, though, that, she, has, already, directed, two, more, teams, of, ten, to, land, at, other, strips, to, prepare. They, should, be, there, in, about, a, day, or, so."

A day. The red wolf resisted the urge to claw something; even that was possibly too long, and even once they landed those teams would take at least half a day or more from any other runways or ports to make it to them. But time was as it was, and he had to hope they could all hold up and hold out until then.

"Keep me in the loop," he said, and cut out, turning focus back on his main screen. Desireigh was making another push, trying to breach the cyber net and hack the radio lines to find Skye and her group again, so the wolf quickly tapped in a few more code streams to reinforce the blockade against her over the com system. Then he changed focus and looked northwest, checking in on the team with Nick.

All of the teams out there were important, of course, and held either friends of Mack's or all good people he could get behind willingly, but he couldn't deny that he kind of thought of this particular gaggle as the most pivotal. Half a Catalyst pair in the form of Nick was there of course, as well as Mack's own friends Embron and Scarlet and the agents those two had vouched for more times than Mack could care to count, and two cops the wolf had also followed over the web and knew he could support fully. All their records were online too, after all; every single detail.

That team was making incredible progress too (little surprise though with a pair of Gifteds and an Archangel among the searchers), though that meant they were also getting a lot further away from either his support with a drone or the other teams. Trade-offs; trade-offs everywhere. None of the preliminary scans Mack had managed to make on the area earlier had been able to pinpoint any real interesting structures near them, or any of the other groups for that matter, that looked any more promising than an old tribal hut or abandoned military shack either.

A bright red alert signal flashed across the computer showing the region's map, and Mack's codes for the interference web, and the wolf felt his fur stand on end. Sitting up ramrod straight (and ignoring the wavering world as the cloak around him shifted to compensate), his fingers flew over the keys to access info on the problem.

It wasn't a minor issue either; half the signal redirects and jamming frequencies, as well as a large chunk of the direct access codes he'd set up for local stations and passing satellites, had gone dark. It was as if they'd never existed, never been written in, and the jungle was for even just a few seconds that much more open to any eyes that wanted to peer across it. Whatever it was hadn't been from Desireigh either; a rapid sweep of frequencies now unchecked by interference allowed him to pin the locations of two of the Primalist groups that had gone out to search for his teams (the one that, as he had feared, was now practically on top of Skye's party, and another that was tracking but still a fair ways from Rocky and company).

Somehow though Mack knew that bode worse overall for them. Desireigh would not willingly give up even a touch of the protective cover she'd had without a good reason, and at least one that he could think of was a chance for her to find one or more of the agents' teams when she knew she couldn't hack into their locations easily on her own. Mack knew immediately too which ones she was really looking for, and for whom.

It wasn't more than another three seconds before the wolf had built up and slammed a cyber firewall between his frequencies and the Primalists' to ensure no one was slipping in to listen, and then he opened the channel to Jack's team. "Embron, Jack?" he hissed into his microphone, "You copy?"

"Something wrong Mack?" Jack's voice replied first.

Mack nodded, before realizing the rabbit couldn't see him. "Yeah, big time. Something just squeaky-cleaned half the jamming frequencies both me and that stupid lizard had set up; means I got a glimpse of a couple of their teams, but Desireigh probably also got a look at yours and Rocky's. She already had a glance earlier at Skye's general location despite my best attempts to keep her completely locked out. And I don't think it was a third computer genius that did that wipe either; it was too fast, too clean."

"So Lotera's still out on the hunt, no surprise, and I'm gonna assume you expect Desireigh is going to send him our way," Embron summarized.

"Knowing how mammals like him work, he's the only one I can think of who might not need a radio at all to stay in touch with his side, and thus be a team that doesn't show up on my scans," Mack agreed. "With how they split up, and where the ones with signals were when I swept through a minute ago, methinks he'll have already grouped up with Saber and Avery again somewhere right in your area too, along with whoever was shooting those guns at us when we all got here. So get ready; I'm trying to secure things enough so I can send out some of the drones here to help where they can, but I can't make too many promises. You're far enough out already that they'll take at least a few hours to reach you too."

"Copy. Do what you can, we'll get geared up. How are the other teams looking?"

"Rocky's in the clear unless locals are on him and his group already, but Skye's posse is probably already entering a fight."

An unintended curse came through (from Jack, unsurprisingly), followed by, "Get whatever info you can then, and see if Trevahe can't hurry some help up. Going dark now for a bit to try and keep well out of Lotera's senses, will report in a couple hours or so if nothing happens."

The line clicked out on their end, and Mack swallowed hard. Too many things to take care of at once, not enough time or brainpower (or paws) to match. He cursed and dove back into the interference codes again to start though; if he could reconfigure his system and find a trick to kick the lizard out, permanently, or distract her without it looking blatantly suspicious, then he'd get the drones out pronto. But first, Desireigh had to be trumped, and for as long as she stayed as unknown a variable as she was to him, that would be no easy task.

Especially with how open their playing field suddenly was thanks to the Thylacine.

A/N-Hey, turns out I did have a little more time to write and catch up; we'll see if I can keep that up and get a few more chapters written, couple posted before college starts up again...then we'll see how well I cope with exhaustion to keep creating. As for the storyline: well, it's just about time for things to start unraveling. Hope you're ready, and willing to keep tagging along.

Now, for the announcement mentioned before the start of this chapter: due to the actions of a certain well-known (at least in this fandom, on this site at the moment) group of miscreants who enjoy ruining people's days and using regulation technicalities that are questionably legal as is to do so, as well as due to the number of times the glitches on this site have infuriated me in the past, I'm switching main sites for posting. Until I have all of my chapters and entries for my two series etc. posted there things will still continue updating here (and maybe for a short time afterward), but I will now be centering my focuses on Archive of Our Own and DeviantArt. I have found the setup of the former to actually be quite refreshing and fairly easy to work with (and I can link up all the proper stories into the actual series they belong to, as well as insert art that goes with them where appropriate), and the latter will contain all the art found in those stories as well as every other creative piece I make in addition (including my most recent, dubbed Empires, which has some ties to this series). So, if you want to make sure you don't miss anything, look for and subscribe to/watch HawkTooth on AO3 and DA, and give a little support to sites that actually have some decent setups and protections for their users!

Until next time, HawkTooth out!