A/N: Yay, people are actually reading this! I wasn't really expecting much in the way of reviews, maybe one quick comment. But instead I got three and a fave! (squees)
wallflower-chan: Thank you!
Tek: Once again, glad to know people are interested. And this is me, continuing the story as per your request.
Gir ate my tacos- You-! Not only did you fave, you hugged. Therefore you must be… Hugged back! (hugs with crushing force) Fell the love in my hug!
Disclaimer: Jhonen Vasquez owns the Irkens. I guess I somewhat sorta kinda own these early Irkens, but they wouldn't exist without his version. Since this is set in the (very distant) past, I own all the characters and all other species mentioned.
P.S.: Did you know I'm handwriting this? I'm on page 58!
P.P.S./A second author's note: Don't expect all my chapters to be this long. I aim for at least 800 words per chapter and nothing below 700, but long chapters aren't my strong point.
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The Deal
With a half-roar, half-growl, the leader of the pack leapt over odious roots, breaking free of the forest. Twigs that he had broken in midair peppered the ground behind him. He landed besides a thickly grassed track that cut innocently through the forest. Tall trees grew on either side of the carving strip of land. With bank-like edges sloping softly to a curving bottom and back upwards in the same manner, the track appeared to have once been a small stream, now dried up and grown over.
He sniffed at the ground, searching for a fresh scent. It wasn't hard to find the stronger trail: it reeked of fear and pain. Good news, too, since the pack was hungry. Catching their quarry would fill his empty belly. He licked his lips, letting out a deep, dark purr as his eyes narrowed into shining strips of dark crimson. The leader jumped down the slope into the depression of the track. He walked idly to the left, feeling dirt and grass beneath his hands and feet, as well as quite a few rocks.
Behind the leader, the rest of the pack emerged from the forest. Upon catching the scent of their prey's pain, they let out delighted cries. The hunt was almost over, with the promise of a meal at the end.
Their leader let out another roar, calling them once more to the hunt. They responded with their own calls, ready to continue. The leader bellowed again before surging forward, running hard towards a bend in the track.
As the rest of the pack followed, twin blurs of green ripped free of the forest on the right bank. The blurs sped forward before turning right. They ran parallel to the track for only a moment before sliding right, running down into the track at a diagonal angle.
With a vicious snarl, the leading blur leapt forward, hitting the pack's leader. Their leader caught his balance as he whirled about to face the attacker, lashing out as he turned. The counterstrike missed as the interloper dodged the oncoming claws. Drawing backwards, the assailant paused, body tensed and ready to strike once more. His companion had also stopped moving. Slightly larger than the apparent leader of the duo, he stood in a similar stance, but appeared more aggressive due to his larger, more muscular frame.
Crimson eyes narrowed in anger; he had thought this area hadn't smelled familiar. The intruder regarded him warily for a moment before relaxing his stance. His companion retained his poised position as the first lifted his head purposely, going so far as to tilt it backwards. His eyes were half-lidded, though still alert. He gave off a certain regal air, as though this part of the forest was his and his alone.
This new position left his throat exposed, a fact that the other was quick to notice. With a predatory grin, he leapt forward, intent on burying his teeth in the vulnerable spot. His bared teeth never connected with the desired target, although this time the other did not have time to avoid the deadly attack.
A deafening roar sounded close by as the ground shook with the pounding of feet. A creature of impossible size tore the forest apart as it escaped its wild clutches. It ran with teeth bared, claws extended, and wide, stupid eyes gleaming with rage. The beast rather fell into the track, others leaping and running out of the path of its crushing feet.
It stood at least three times the size of any of them, hardly fitting in the narrow track. All of the monster's claws were a gleaming ivory, dulled with grease and entirely too sharp. It looked at them with dull, greedy red eyes as its tongue lolled over worn teeth.
The beast began to move towards the center of the conflict, walking with a slow, unhurried gait. The thing padded along, colossal form shifting and rippling with each thunderous step it took, massive belly swaying. It came to a rest behind the two interferers, having clambered out of the track to do so. With a long-suffering gurgling grunt, the beast's limbs gave out. It crashed to the ground, hands and feet crushing the grass that grew on the track's sloping sides. The creature's massive belly was exposed, deep green grayed with the fatty oils of a thousand meals.
The pack shifted uneasily. This massive thing, was it one of their own? It looked like them, only much bigger and in worse condition. Regardless, the giant was on the enemy's side, which was never a good place for the strongest power to be.
The smaller aggressor stepped back slightly, contempt clear in his darkening eyes. He lifted his head again, reassured by his companion's warning growl.
"We would suggest," he began, in a full voice underscored with malice, "that you leave this place." Their leader let out a snarled roar, returning to his aggressive stance.
"We're on a hunt! Have you not held us up long enough already? Move aside, outsider, unless you wish to take the place of our meal."
The other drew himself up, hissing. The malice was much stronger as he spoke again. "Outsiders you call us? You're on our territory! Are you not aware, outsider," he said, placing particular emphasis on the last word, "that you are trespassing on Lanork land?"
"The hunt started on our own land!" their leader barked at the other, head thrust forward and low to the ground, even with his tensed shoulders. "We have every right to pursue our prey here."
"Ah, but you don't," said the other smugly. "It's your own fault that you that it escape into neutral territory. You should have made sure it didn't wind up on another pack's claim."
Their leader let out a frustrated roar, tossing his head up and back. He paced back and forth in tight circles, glaring at everything before him. "We've been on this hunt for hours! It's an exile! It doesn't matter whose land it's on, it needs to be killed!"
The other drew back at this outburst. A frown briefly crossed his features as he turned this new piece of information over. Before he could make any sort of use of the knowledge, the one behind him cut in.
"An exile you say?" The crimson-eyed leader glared at him. However, the intimidating build of the interrupter brought him to answer. He scowled, eyes narrowed in disgust as he snarled an affirmative. "We don't take exiles," was the swift reply. "He'll die here or in any of the territories around here." When the leader still refused to move, he added in his strong, commanding voice, "Go the other way. It's not that long a run to some safe water. You'll find a herd of Okapin, they're in abundance. Catch one, kill it, take it with you, do what you will with it. Just get off our land."
The leader considered this proposal for a moment, mouth set into a firm line and brow crinkled. Reaching his decision, he lifted his head, lips parting to let out another roar. At the sound, the rest of the pack leapt back into action, ready to follow his charge. The leader bolted forward and his clan swarmed back into the track, happy to follow if doing so meant food.
Roydon snorted, eyes narrowing at the retreating invaders. He glanced at his companions once the others were out of sight. Arktos hadn't moved since he'd fallen over and so still lay sprawled on the ground. The other, Kintore, stood still, staring at where the others had been. His face was once again set into a frown, his eyes dimmed; mind far away.
"Let's go," he said, authority in his voice. Arktos grunted, flicking one thick antenna, the very tip of which was missing. Kintore came back to the present, turning his head to look at Roydon.
"Aren't we going to help him?"
"Who? Arktos? He'll get up by himself," Roydon said, adding "Eventually," as an afterthought.
"No!" Kintore fairly yelped. "I meant the exile."
"Oh," Roydon tilted his head, blinking at Kintore. "No, Dakkurru just said to get rid of those intruders. Helping their outcast will only bring them back." Behind them, Arktos grunted again, moving his head in a heavy nod, cheek still pressed against the ground. "Besides," Roydon continued as he made his way out of the track, climbing over Arktos in the process, "it's not like we owe anything to outcasts. Come on you fat lump, get up." Arktos groaned, laboriously rolling over to rest on his massive stomach. He lifted his head slowly, turning to gaze in the direction the others had gone. Looking deliberately at Roydon and that pointedly back again, he let out long-suffering cry. "Oh shut up," was all the response he got for his efforts. Letting out a similarly long-suffering moan, Arktos found his way to his feet and lumbered after the much faster Roydon. Kintore frowned at their retreating forms.
"So… We're not even going to see if he's alright?" he asked as he nimbly jumped out of the track and trotted after his companions.
Roydon snorted. "Forget it," he said, emphasizing the word 'it'. "Like I said before, we don't owe anything to outcasts."
Kintore stopped, antennae falling backwards. He stared sadly after them, mumbling quietly, "But ma-gi was an outcast…"