Jar-hidda looked down at the book in his hands. The pages inside were so frail and thin, that it was a folly for mankind to put something as important as knowledge and history within. Something so important should never be easy to erase with something as simple as fire, or even time. Whatever happened to record in stone? Stone was strong, it lasted, it did not rot away, wither or fade, only nature could reclaim it, by then, perhaps, it was meant to be lost.
The pages were blank to him either way, the same blank shade no matter to which page he flipped. The cover and spine of the book also were empty, the ink invisible to him simply for being the same level and temperature as the rest of it. He shut the book and put it back in its dark space between the other nameless books. He huffed and rattled, hearing a hiss and looking over at the dark shape of the reptile against the brightness of the fire.
It was a brave creature. Despite being so small, despite knowing that he was a far more dangerous predator that it was, it had attacked him in defense of its mistress. How many of the human's so-called deathly-loyal canines had whimpered and shirked away from him even as he cut down their masters? He had a small respect for the lizard, and so it got to live. Plus, the human Hannah was very attached to the creature.
Jar-hidda looked to the door where the human had disappeared with her bow. He was deliberately waiting in the living room, counting the time as it went by. Time went by quickly on this planet; he had been here for ten of its 'days,' the periods of cold and slightly less cold that qualified that time passed. Of all the places he could have landed, it had to be the place that could most qualify as Cho't, the place for disgraced warriors and bad bloods. Still, he was lucky, if it weren't for that human, Hannah, his body and technology would have fallen into the greedy hands of the other humans, and he would have been dishonored. Disgrace would not have been a just punishment. He wasn't sure where he stood now, being rescued from humans by a human. It could be worse, he assured himself, could be very much worse.
Would someone come after him for it? Doubtful.
He brought up his arm flipping open the shield over his gauntlet and activated his cloak with a press of a button. The human was trusting, maybe foolishly so. Probably because she did not understand his possessions. She continued to withhold his weapons, not realizing she had already given him the most dangerous one. But she kept giving him whatever he asked for. Perplexing. He had hunted Earth frequently over the past four-hundred of its years, watching the humans evolve, realizing far sooner than others of his kind that it would not be long until the humans joined them in space. He had witnessed, hunted and occasionally spared very remarkable individuals. Not many had piqued his interest like this human. She was amusing in her own way. Maybe one day he would inform her that she didn't need to walk backwards everywhere around him. But for now, it was amusing to watch.
He finished his calculations and moved to the door. He opened it and looked into the dark abyss of this hell on earth. He stepped out into the brisk air, his own breath visible to him. He moved forward into the dark snow and leapt up into a tree, only visible because it caught the light of the sun on its branches. Snow shook from the branch as he hit it. He switched the visions of his mask, seeking one that gave him a better advantage over the environment. There was one, it was weak, but it was something. He moved through the trees, moving from branch to branch. He faltered and slipped, clawing at the bark to stay above the ground. He pulled himself up, grunting and touching his injured leg, feeling the rough cloth of the bandage. He could remove it now, the bone had by now mended, but he could not do so out here, it would lead the human to be suspicious.
He continued on his path, feeling the shadows as starkly as bolts of lightning as he passed beneath them even with his mesh armor warming his skin. Every glance of sunlight was a blessing. He moved as easily through the branches as easily as he would have on the ground, injured leg notwithstanding. Further and further he went within the dim vision that allowed him to navigate through this forest. He had a new respect for the human who lived in this hell comfortably.
Jar-hidda stopped suddenly when he saw movement, quickly switching his vision and easily spotting the heat signature. He moved slowly around the tree to get a better angle. There she was, the human, walking through the snow very far away from her home. He had tested how easily he could hide form her, he felt safe following from this distance. She was a hunter, with many trophies to her name. He had witnessed and hunted a few like her. But she refused to fight him. It was disappointing, very disappointing, to be unable to know the strength of his 'mighty captor.' He wanted to see how worthy she really was.
He did not mind the venison that she hunted for him. Meat was meat. He had preferences, sure, but nothing she could find on this planet. But he wanted a test of her skill, not a show of how easily she could bring down a harmless plant-eater. Where were the bears whose skull she had shown him? That would be a challenge.
Jar-hidda followed at a distance, keeping to the trees, and opting to fall behind when movement became difficult for him rather than give away his position making too much noise to keep up. She was easy to track, a bright little flame in the vastness of the cold. He would be able to spot her even if she was miles away.
Her prey was a different story. They had the same strange vision that the humans did. They didn't see heat, they saw… something else. They had their own advantages over him and his kind, it was what made them good sport.
Hannah stopped, so he did as well, freezing in place and perching on the branch he was on. A bit of snow fell from the bare limb. She looked back, right at him, but for only a second. She didn't see him, not this far away while he was cloaked.
She was angry at him. He understood why. This language barrier between them was making her life difficult. His presence alone was complicating her life. She was one accustomed to living alone, like he was. One did not live alone for many years, and then readily adjust to having another person in their life. He was grateful, at least, that she was willing. His leg was almost healed, he would soon leave. Both of their lives would return to normal.
Jar-hidda switched his vision, watching as Hannah moved to the side and scaled up a tree, into the branches. His mask made it easy to observe her, even from this distance. Looking around, though, there was nothing here, no prey, but he knew that meant nothing. He watched her check her weapon and he grunted in amusement despite himself. He was sure that the flimsy weapon could hardly be able to take down anything larger than a rodent.
He settled on the branch, sitting with his back against the tree trunk to take his weight off of his leg. Now they waited. There was nothing out there to see for him, no matter what vision he switched to. There was just the small bloom of heat that was the huntress, sitting as still and quietly as he was. Her prey would not know she was there.
He watched her, unmoving, this human, an odd balance of intelligence and foolishness, bravery and compassion. He had never been this close to one, not for this long, not without the intent of having their skull on his wall. What would he do with her when it was all over. She was hunted by her own kind, she knew too many things, and no doubt she would learn more in the next few days that she ever should. The laws dictated that he erase all evidence, this would mean her as well.
Unless she could prove herself.
Hannah. Strange name, he wondered what it meant. When he had awoken, he was sure the human had captured him. But it was clear he was able to leave if he so chose. He had called her 'mighty captor,' for a while as a joke more to himself since she could not understand, using it the same way she used the word 'jolly.' But he was no prisoner, and he could not figure out what her motives were. She definitely didn't want to kill him. She had had many chances to do so if that was her goal.
She moved and he leaned forward intently, some of his dreads sliding over his shoulder, tapping against his armor. She was stock still, her weapon in hand. She had seen something, he looked around for what. She was turned away from him, facing a specific direction down the mountain. He was at the wrong angle to see down the curve of the mountain. He had to risk moving closer.
Very slowly he crept forward, using his arms to creep along the branches, jumping only when there was no other option. He could see now, small little blazes of heat moving over the crest. These were larger than the deer she had been feeding him, the horns on a few were much larger. He held in a rattle of excitement, eager to see what she did with these animals. He braced himself between two branches and leaned forward, zooming his vision to look at her weapon and her. She was breathing evenly despite her heart racing. She removed one of the flimsy pointed sticks and put it on the bow. Could something so frail really take anything down?
He kept as silent as the nature around him. He spotted her target just after she did: the largest animal in the herd, even though there was one with larger horns. She was hunting for food, trophies didn't matter. It was against his code, the code that had been seared into his mind through years of training. When hunting for food, the weakest and oldest of a group was taken to improve the bloodlines, she was going for a good, strong and healthy male. He didn't interrupt her hunt though, merely noted and observed.
The animals didn't even know she was there, their fate sealed. He lost interest. He watched dispassionately as she drew back the projectile and shot it at the beast. It flinched and took off running, scattering its herd. It was dead. Its blood was a bright streak against the dark snow. It would run for a while, but it was dead. He was disappointed, debating how to find a real challenge for the human.
She was descending the tree now. Jar-hidda moved back and began his return. She was a skilled hunter, that was for sure, it had simply ended too quickly and not as violently as he may have liked. But this was not like one of his hunts. This was for sustenance, not glory, even if those things may be one in the same for him.
Then a sound split the ice-cold air. It was his name, Hannah's nickname for her. He looked up, the human female looking directly at him, "go home Jolly!" she called again. He was silent, then rattled in amusement. He was still cloaked. She had found him, clever, observant creature. Her voice was tense, she was upset again, or still, he wasn't sure. He deactivated the cloak and saw her exhale heavily. She pointed forcefully, "home!" she roared again.
He tilted his head at her, amused that she thought she had any control over him, a much larger and stronger person. She had displayed this brave folly often, and had he been any other Yautja, the female would likely be dead, or wishing she was. He, however, rattled again and turned, moving through the trees back to the cabin she called home. This excursion was not a total waste. He had found her to be skilled, observant, patient, all qualities of an excellent hunter. There may be hope for her yet.