A New Hunt: Death and Rebirth

by Luna Silvereyes

Born into the dying stages of a race of winged humanoids, Avocet has been cast out of her clan with deformed wings. Stalked by humans and black demons, she makes a desperate deal with a devil in order to live. Assimilating into his clan, Avocet struggles to hold onto herself as she begins to grow in their ways and come to terms with the grim fate of the world of her birth.

20. Twenty

Twenty

Ikthya'de let out a deafening roar of anger and pain as the steam valve suddenly ruptured, bathing him in a dense fog of super-heated vapor. He staggered back, shaking his head violently and flaring his tusks. Luar'ka perched on a pipe a few feet above him and called down to him in concern, "Are you all right, mei'hswei?"

Ikthya'de sputtered and growled to himself as the sting from the searing steam began to fade. Thankfully, the Yautjas' hides were naturally extremely tough, built to withstand most any pressure. Considering the sorts of trauma he was capable of surviving—and had survived—a brief super-heated steam bath was nothing. He huffed deeply, "I am unhurt." he told her, "I cannot say the same for the valve, however. It is fortunate we are near to our destination."

Luar'ka opened her wings and glided down, "Will the Illmorein have what we need?"

"I would imagine so." he answered.

"And will they be willing to help us?" she asked cheekily. He threw her a look warning her to shut up. She shrugged, "Can you blame my curiosity? The most recent time you needed a spare engine piece, three Ca'thr-ko warriors paid the price." she said with a grin.

"You heard about that?"

"It was the largest topic of discussion in the healing ward. Than'ja spent an hour sulking." she giggled. Ikthya'de ticked his tusks together in amusement at his brother's apparent jealousy over the matter he hadn't been involved in. The Ca'thr-ko were formidable warriors from another neighboring system, just a little over the height of even the largest Yautja and nearly as naturally well-armored. They rivaled humans with their cleverness and even the aseigan within the eta dreamed of achieving the honor of fighting just one warrior. Their technology was advanced and the Hunting pack Ikthay'de had been with were well aware of this, enabling them to...borrow some spare parts to make a stop-gap adjustment on their floundering engine, allowing them to complete the journey back to the Clan ship for proper repairs. He chuckled darkly as he stared up at the young female, "I do not doubt that. I will make a temporary adjustment for now; it should last until we arrive." he told her, moving beneath the array and cluster of pipes and out of sight behind the equipment.

Luar'ka giggled in amusement and shimmied agilely through the pipework, reemerging above his head on the other side. Ikthya'de stood a little under seven feet tall and the engine room was built to hold Yautja two to three heads taller than him. This would serve him well later, as it was clear he was very much still growing. Luar'ka easily suspended herself out of his way above him, hanging upside down with her foot talons grasping a thinner pipe behind her. She twisted her head back to watch him as he worked, taking careful note of his actions. He glanced at her occasionally, but said nothing.

After a while, he flared his mandibles in a wide yawn, sitting down on the floor and setting his tools aside, "It will hold for now." he said, his voice dripping with disinterest. Luar'ka dropped down beside him, landing almost noiselessly, "How old is this ship?" she asked.

"Very old, gyun'r mei'jadhi. I am quite certain it is similar in age to Elder Sechinde. Perhaps he is a bit older."

Luar'ka's eyes widened, "That is amazing." she breathed, "And the Yautja have kept it functioning for this long?"

"Yes. But it is starting to show its age, now. It may soon be disassembled and fashioned into parts for new ships."

"Provided Thwei'ja lets it go."

Ikthya'de chuckled and reached around for one of the pouches he kept attached to his belt about his waist. He opened it up and took out some dried fruit wrapped in Mu'ave leaves. The leaf acted like N'-ithya cacti, possessing super thick outer skin to retain moisture. Curiously enough though, it was also surprisingly flexible, the fibers of the leaf loosely knitted to allow it a wide range of movement. The combination of the water retention and flexibility made it great for wrapping food rations in to keep them from going bad. He unwrapped a handful of dried Mi'gha, which he knew was her favorite. He handed her half of the contents and watched as she popped a few slices into her mouth, squealing in pleasure from the taste and actually bouncing slightly while she sat a couple of feet away from him. He'd heard Kar'kha telling Than'ja how strange it was that the Avianwas so willing to share her food. In a way, Ikthya'de understood; the one and only time he'd ever deigned to do so was during the last food shortage aboard the ship when Kar'kha had been much smaller and weaker. Unable to fight for his own rations, he'd only continued to grow even weaker as a result. Ikthya'de and Than'ja had been part of a small group of like-minded Yautja who decided that the sacrifice of pride and honor was worth it to give the weaker Unbloods a chance. This was all taking place during circumstances that were not only highly unusual, but also obtusely disadvantageous for even the strongest youngsters who didn't stand a chance. They'd gone four or five rotations without eating their rations, enabling them to build a small collective supply. Then, the two of them and about seven or eight others secretly gathered a small group of the strongest Unbloods together and divided their rations among them. They only did it two or three times during that shortage, allowing the Unbloods to gain enough strength back to begin to fight for their rations once more.

Luar'ka shared her food regardless. It almost seemed like an acceptance by her if the recipient succumbed to her wishes and took the proffered nourishment. Most Yautja would have found it bizarre to say the least. Ikthya'de, Than'ja and Kar'kha all had an advantage; Me'vi-te's oddly worldly personality. Throughout their training, it had become obvious to the brothers that for as vicious as their sire could be, he was outright fascinated by other worlds and cultures beyond simple trophy-Hunting. Ikthya'de certainly believed the rumors that Me'vi-te had developed friendships with oomans in the past while on trips to N'-ithya. Several of the Hunting trips he and Than'ja had been taken on once they'd become Blooded had been simply to observe rather than Hunt. Me'vi-te often made them sit in complete silence and tranquility for hours at a time in a high tree overlooking some valley or forest. The first few seasons of this treatment had been pure torture for the hot-blooded youngsters who were itching to get into the fray of a good chase. But over time, they came to understand what their sire was doing when he sat idly in trees, watching his intended prey. He was doing just that; watching them. Me'vi-te liked studying the creatures he Hunted as much as he liked to Hunt them. Occasionally, he'd cloak himself and then sneak in close to his targets, never making a sound. Sometimes, he'd even reach out to touch them softly before retreating once they became aware of his presence. There were many such excursions where he would encourage his progeny to practice their stealth by getting as close as they could to their prey without it noticing them.

He remembered these Hunts well, and looking at Luar'ka, he was grateful for it. Me'vi-te clearly showed an appreciation for the creatures the Yautja Hunted. But he was also honor-bound to the rules and steadfast traditions of the Clan and the Yautja race as a whole. He'd passed his appreciation onto his three surviving offspring, but it was clearly magnified in them. He himself didn't seem pleased to this day that Luar'ka was with them. But the Yautja had never taken young apprentices before and she was certainly an interesting prospect. Thanks to Me'vi-te's own odd fascinations, he and his brothers had been well-exposed to the universe and now quite contentedly harbored possibly the last remnant of a race that was once upon a time one of their prime Hunting targets.

Luar'ka stretched her wings out, pulling one around and running her claws through her feathers once she finished her fruit. She sighed, "I must admit, I am looking forward to cold water once we arrive on Illmianyar."

"Cold water?"

"Yes. Cold water will better stimulate my wings, I expect. I always feel sluggish after leaving the hot water on board the ship."

Ikthya'de snarled in disgust at the notion of using anything other than the hot water provided for them on the ship at the water station that doubled as a bathing area. Luar'ka grumbled irritably at him and sighed again, turning away, "You do not have wings, so do not complain."

"I doubt if I could get off the ground. I expect that I would weigh too much."

Luar'ka giggled at this and picked a fleck of grime and oil from her feathers that had attached itself while she'd been helping her 'brother' repair the engine. She frowned, humming, "I might bathe before we arrive. My wings are looking a little tatty." she said, mostly to herself. She wasn't fond of the idea. She didn't care too highly for water. It was better than in the beginning. Though young, her sense of modesty was already in place courtesy of her mother and aunt. It had taken quite a bit of willpower to banish it aboard the Clan ship where such a concept was virtually non-existent and bathing was a communal activity. Like the rest of their world, the water aboard the ship was kept very hot. Luar'ka found this helped immensely to soothe her injuries, especially if she just sat quietly in the water for a short time. Water was filled into wide, deep depressions in the metal interior of the floor, about ten feet deep at the greatest depth. The first time she'd gone into the baths on the Clan ship, dragged there by Than'ja who insisted upon it for health reasons, she'd been unnerved from the get go. Eight or nine other Yautja were there at the time, some cleaning injuries under flows of hot water emerging from specially headed pipework on the walls, while others looked half-asleep in the deep pool, either talking quietly, relaxing or silently healing. The baths appeared to be a place as much for spiritual cleansing as for physical. Of course, everyone had immediately looked up in startled amazement at the sight of the alien creature being dragged in by her Yautjan guardian. She'd been given a simple piece of heavy, scratchy cloth to drape over herself until scraps could be found to make proper garments for her. Than'ja had ignored her protests as he yanked it away from her and practically dropped her in the hot water where she sank like a rock. Terrified and somewhat unable to swim, Luar'ka had floundered a bit before going under again, scratching for the sides of the pool to try to get a foothold. She'd felt a heavy pressure on her neck and suddenly broke the surface of the water. She was forced to hang there, suspended for a moment as she realized one of the other Yautja had waded over and grabbed her, now nonchalantly holding her aloft in the water. She had glanced back at him in bewilderment and saw that he looked merely confused and a bit baffled. He gave her a shove toward the edge of the pool where she scrabbled for a grip on the side. He moved back to the other side and resumed his seeming meditation while healing. He appeared to be the exception however, as the other Yautja in the room seemed at best antsy, and at worst hostile. One of them flared his mandibles, openly glowering at her as she clung to the edge of the pool. Already at a disadvantage from being in the water, Luar'ka slipped and allowed herself to feel afraid. This was immediately picked up by the others in the room and the three who seemed most volatile started growling in response, their eyes flashing angrily as they turned in her direction.

Than'ja had chosen that moment to finally come back over and returned their growls with a deep rumble of his own, bordering on a snarl. It was a warning, just intimidating enough to tell them to back off. He sank into the water and moved in front of Luar'ka, still grumbling deeply at the aggressors. He did eventually start talking quietly with the Yautja that had stopped her from drowning, apparently familiar with this individual. Keeping her place behind Than'ja, clutching the edge of the pool, Luar'ka had spent the better part of those two hours completely on edge and feeling light-headed from the heat. After a short while, she'd been forced to climb out of the water and curled up on the edge until she'd cooled enough to get back in while Than'ja continued to speak with his comrade. To this day, she was thankful she hadn't passed out right there from both fear and exhaustion.

Ikthya'de received a communication on his comp on his left wrist and moved to check it. Luar'ka watched him do this, tucking her wings down against her back as she did. She watched as he typed quickly on the various buttons and controls on the device. It really was amazing how he could switch from goofy and laid back to all business Hunter so quickly. It made her wonder what a Hunt with him would be like.

"We are nearing Illmianyar," he said, "But there is a problem."

"What?" she asked, moving closer and perching next to him on her haunches. His brow furrowed and a deep growl left his throat, making Luar'ka's feathers flare out. Throat growls always meant business and now she was on alert.

"A Sert'truuc ship has been picked up within the planet's orbit. Thwei'ja is requesting our presence immediately."

Luar'ka felt her breath hitch in alarm. She recalled S'iirai talking about the shadowy Sert'truuc, the feared enemies of the Illmorein. She understood that the Yautja tolerated the Illmorein as allies for their information and access to the Sert'truuc as Hunting prey. But she'd never seen one up close. She followed Ikthya'de quickly as he made his way to the control room where Thwei'ja and Kar'kha were already waiting. Than'ja was nowhere to be seen.

Thwei'ja sat at command with the terminal before him glowing, showing off an extensive array of data he'd picked up from their advanced radar. He turned at their approach and for the first time, didn't glare at Luar'ka as she faced him. It seemed his priorities were placed elsewhere.

"We are going to alter our trajectory," he said, "We must engage the enemy ship before it enters the planet's orbit."

Through the portal shields, Luar'ka could see a tiny, iridescent blue ball floating in the black void of space, reminiscent of N'-ithya in color. But she knew it wasn't. That was Illmianyar.

"What is our plan of attack?" Kar'kha asked, sitting down at the controls to Thwei'ja's left, "This is a small Hunting vessel; if that is a full-sized ship, we will not stand much of a chance of eliminating it."

"We are not the only ones in the vicinity." Thwei'ja explained, "Two Arbitrators are close enough to assist and there is a supply ship docked in orbit around the planet waiting for us. They are equipped to fight as well."

Ikthya'de took his post at the other panel, monitoring around the ship for debris that could potentially interfere with their battle. Kar'kha ran a thorough scan of the armament systems, making sure they were ready to fire. He scanned the list carefully, taking care to read everything; even the slightest slip-up could be disastrous. And the Sert'truuc were known for fighting hard and fast. Their ships were faster than the Yautja vessels, but they didn't pack nearly as much firing power. One shot from the ship's massive burnerswould blow one of their smaller shuttles to pieces.

"Enemy shuttle sighted." Ikthya'de announced, "Inbound off the right flank. We have been spotted."

"Cloak immediately," Thwei'ja barked at Kar'kha, "And ready the burners."

A shrill beeping from the monitor caught his attention and he turned, his tendrils swishing rapidly. His tusks clicked together as he processed the incoming transmission and checked its point of origin. His mandibles flared in annoyance and he snapped to his feet, "Endling. Come." he barked.

Luar'ka didn't bother bristling at the annoying moniker as she scurried forward around the chair, watching the signal on the screen light up as an incoming message came in. There was no visual feed activated as she opened it; it was audio only. And the sounds sent a shiver crawling down her spine. It resembled Yautjan ever so slightly, but it was quite off. Thick, gravelly, snarling sounds filtered through the speaker, interlaced with a shrill clacking noise no grown Yautja was capable of making. She could hear something in the background. It sounded like screaming.

"Do you understand it?" Thwei'ja asked her, placing his hand on the back of the chair.

"I do not," she said, "I have never encountered the Sert'truuc language before. But that voice in the background. I think it may be a hostage, Thwei'ja."

She listened intently, trying to ignore the headache inducing clamor of the Sert'truuc's voice chittering and snarling away as she honed in on the voice in the background. It was screaming and pleading desperately, and she found, to her horror, that she could make out what the voice was saying.

" '...Help...someone help...do not...they are...' " she muttered, "And now that insect is too loud. I can no longer hear."

"Can you tell who it is?"

"No. But I can understand them, so it is either human or Illmorein. They have taken a prisoner."

"I am detecting a vast array of spacial debris." Ikthya'de piped up, "It appears to be the remains of a shuttle."

"Does it have a signal still active?" Thwei'ja inquired.

"It does. Is is an Illmorein transport vessel."

Luar'ka's heart sank. The Sert'truuc hostage was a Illmorein.

Thwei'ja's mandibles twisted into a macabre smirk, "It believes we will spare it to rescue the hostage." he said darkly. Luar'ka resisted the urge to glare at him. As the Illmorein captive continued to scream for help through the speakers, barely heard over the frantic chattering of the cornered Sert'truuc, she knew the truth before Kar'kha even began to activate the burners. The hum of the powerful weapon charging up met her sensitive ears and made her feathers stand on end. Her claws dug into her thighs as she perched in the command chair, aware of her brothers speaking to one another and of Thwei'ja still standing behind her. He was so keyed up that his body temperature soared and the extra heat so close to her was making her dizzy. The Sert'truuc coward knew that it couldn't outpace the powerful long-range cannons of the Yautja ships. Before it even got out of visible range, the cannon would deliver the judgment of the Paya onto the shadowy menace.

"The ship is turning." Ikthya'de declared, "Thwei'ja, he is fleeing."

"Pursue him." Thwei'ja ordered, grabbing Luar'ka's arm and hoisting her out of the chair. He set her down beside it and took her place, "Lock onto its coordinates and remain fixated. Do not allow it to fall out of range."

Ikthya'de sent out the locking signal that would practically glue the Sert'truuc ship's radar signal to their sensors. Once the Yautja locked on, there was no escape. Luar'ka watched him do this and then turned to Thwei'ja, now in full Hunt mode. She watched him calmly as he fired up the powerful central core of the ship, switching from the fuel reserves keeping them at a brisk cruising speed through the void. The engine's steady hum died for just a moment as the power sources shifted. Then, with a steadily growing roar, it flared back to life and the whole ship shook as the core began to pump energy into the innards of the ship, powering it effortlessly forward. The shaking stopped and to untrained ears, it would seem as though the ship had ceased moving, but Luar'ka knew better by this point. The Yautja ships were well built; even ones on the tail end of their functionality like Thwei'ja's.

"Are the burnersready for firing?" Thwei'ja asked. Kar'kha looked up from his post, his upper mandibles twitching outward in a pleased smirk, "Full power, Thwei'ja."

"It certainly took them long enough." Thwei'ja snarled under his breath.

"Well, it is to be expected, given the sheer age of this vessel." Ikthya'de grumbled out his two cents, earning a sharp glare from Thwei'ja, followed by the usual flared snarl. Luar'ka resisted the urge to chuckle; even in the midst of a crisis, leave it to Ikthya'de to poke the embers.

"Hold the signal within range."

Through the portal shields, as well as on the monitor, the Kheevi ship gradually came back into view as they pursued it. It veered sharply toward the planet, using the force of the planet's rotation to attempt to whip down at an angle to avoid the Yautja vessel. Ikthya'de saw this coming and barked to Kar'kha, who immediately fired the burners in the ship's direction. The powerful blue beam rocketed toward the ship, just barely grazing the base of the hull. Thwei'ja snarled in fury, clenching his fists as he whirled to Ikthya'de; "Do not lose that ship!" he snapped.

"I have no intention of it." Ikthya'de said with a smirk. The ship lurched suddenly, adjusting its trajectory to tail the fleeing Sert'truuc ship. They used the same slingshot trick the Sert'truuc had taken advantage of, using the planet's gravitational pull to gain distance and speed at a sharp angle.

"It is gaining distance." Kar'kha announced, "I will lock on one more time, but I may not have time for another shot."

The Sert'truuc ship veered suddenly, turning away from the planet as another plasma beam erupted from the distance. Another Yaut ship came into view, this one faster than theirs. It dogged the shadowy ship closely, barely allowing it room to maneuver as the panicking Sert'truuc realized that it now had two apex predator ships to deal with.

"Warkha." Thwei'ja growled as he followed the new aggressor through the portal shields, "Follow them. Close that ship in." he commanded to the others with him.

He was distracted briefly as a transmission alarm blared in the cockpit. Thwei'ja smashed the console controls, activating the transmission and shoving Luar'ka closer to the screen while he continued to monitor the chase. Luar'ka watched as a familiar face came into view and held back the shudder of discontent at the sight of the albino Yautja she secretly feared.

"The supply station is nearby, Thwei'ja," Warkha announced, "I am here and L'ti'v' is also in the vicinity."

"I want that ship destroyed," Thwei'ja said harshly, "It cannot be allowed to land on Illmianyar."

"Do the Illmorein yet know of the approaching enemy?" Warkha asked, looking at Luar'ka. She swallowed her terror, narrowing her gaze on the albino male as she steeled her eyes, "No, they do not. Not yet. And our desire is to keep it that way." she said firmly.

Warkha leered at her, his tusks shifting as he angled his head curiously, not quite tilting it in full on inquiry, "And shall I relay the message to them once the Hunt is complete?"

"Not necessary. I can handle that task myself." Luar'ka answered with a little more indignation than was probably called for. Warkha abruptly signed off and she looked up through the shields, watching as their ship and the ships of the two Arbitrators closed in on the Sert'truuc vessel. Inwardly, Luar'ka felt a twinge of sadness for the hostage on board the small shuttle, but she knew that the Yautja couldn't and wouldn't do anything to save them. What could be done? The Sert'truuc certainly wasn't going to dock his ship on command and turn over the hostage; in fact, he was more likely to kill them in the event of capture.

Thwei'ja let out a deep bellow and Kar'kha activated the powerful burners. Energized blue beams erupted from the cannons mounted along the flanks of the ship, surging through the void toward the enemy. At the same time, the other two Yaut ships also fired. The Sert'truuc ship spun and veered sharply in the blackness of the void outside and while two of the fired shots missed, the third did not. It struck the left flank of the ship and Luar'ka saw the silent explosion as the ship was rendered to chunks of floating debris and detritus in the vacuum. Her wings sagged and she sighed heavily, listening as Thwei'ja ordered Ikthya'de to run a scan of the debris.

The transmitter buzzed again and this time, Luar'ka answered before Thwei'ja could, again seeing the stark white face of Warkha appear on the screen. She frowned as he nodded to Thwei'ja and glanced up at a monitor above the comm terminal.

"Enemy has been dealt with."

"Inspect the general area. Make certain he did not escape." Thwei'ja ordered.

Warkha nodded, his eyes narrowing, "I have already done so. There is no sign of any escape pod near here."

Thwei'ja let out a low rumble of satisfaction, "Good. Report to Illmianyar. We will need to confirm this successful strike."

Warkha nodded before focusing his attention on the Avian, "I understand you are the new communicator I was informed of." he said.

Luar'ka bristled when he spoke to her. The only thing that came to her mind was the memory of his pursuit of her back on the Clan ship and how she narrowly avoided a likely challenge with him. She steeled her gaze, meeting his stare directly in defiance, "I am. My name is Luar-ke Lar'ja. We have met before, Arbitrator."

He nodded again, his tusks loosening from around his face, "That, we have. It was nearly a full season before, was it not?"

"Yes. I never received the chance to properly introduce myself. The swift interference of Me'vi-te and yourself saved the lives of S'iirai and myself."

"You call yourself such an odd name. I must admit; it fits you rather well."

She frowned when he brought the subject to her name, presented her by Kar'kha. She remained silent on his compliment, returning to the issue at hand, "I am to serve as the correspondent between the Yautja and the Illmorein. If you have any concerns to direct toward them, send them first to me."

Warkha leered curiously at her, his tusks working slowly against his mouth as he studied her. It was only for a few seconds, but Luar'ka felt incredibly uncomfortable with the way he stared at her. It was like he was mentally dismantling her, seeing what she was made of and how her mind worked. As curious as her brothers had been upon their initial meeting, even they hadn't studied her like Warkha did now. Finally, he straightened in his chair and his eyes flicked to Thwei'ja, "My ship sustained damage during the battle. I shall report to the supply station and then proceed to the colony from there."

"Good. Do not take long. We have lost time with this whole debacle as it is." Thwei'ja growled. Warkha nodded in agreement and then repeated the gesture to Luar'ka in respect, "I look forward to greeting you in person, Avian."

He signed off and Luar'ka felt as if her stomach had devoured itself. Outside, she was the picture of calm, her body loose and her face placid. Her racing heart was the only giveaway to the anxiety she now felt and struggled to hide. She ruffled her feathers, scattering dust particles that had begun to cling to them as a means of hiding the scent of her growing fear toward the white Yautja. It was now very clear to her that he wanted to challenge her. He would be the first experienced adult Yautja she'd fought.

And she wasn't looking forward to it. She'd seen plenty of dangerous death challenges between Yautja. One such fight broke out between two older individuals in the kehrite. It was the first such fight she'd seen and it had been spurred on by a disrespect of one Yautja's honor. She hadn't known that youngster personally, but to see him so brutally defeated and then killed so viciously, she knew these fights were nothing to take lightly and honor was something even more valuable than life it seemed. She was still in training, but that didn't make her exempt.

Thwei'ja gave her a quick shove out of the way as he resumed his place at the controls. Luar'ka watched him briefly as he began the complex series of commands to the ship that prepared it for atmospheric entry. She ruffled her feathers and silently left the room.

Kar'kha turned his head and watched her quietly as she left, tilting his head in inquiry. Her mood and her scent had plummeted in the last few minutes and he had no idea why. She'd seemed fine just a little while ago. He sighed inwardly; perhaps Ikthya'de was right. Like all females, Luar'ka was likely just growing fickle and it was just easier—and safer—for him to simply accept it and make as little of it as he could. There was no fully understanding the female Yautja and he decided it was in his best interests to treat female Avians with the same regard.

/ooo/

"You will not last long at this rate, Luar'ka."

The Avian bristled at Than'ja's tone implying she was weak. Even so, she understood his true meaning.

"It is not like I can help it. I am still adjusting."

"Unbloods adjust as well."

She growled low at him, resisting the urge to turn.

She sat still while Than'ja sat behind her, using his sharp claws to brush through the feathers of her wings for her. It was something that needed to be done and wasn't too far off from the Yautja needing help with care for their own tendrils. Each individual tendril a Yautja had needed to be coated in a special oil to keep from drying out and cracking, encouraging smooth growth, as well as lubrication to help remove dead skin that got caught up between the living strands. But being unable to see what they were doing made it nearly impossible for a Yautja to manage his own tendrils' care efficiently, forcing him to rely on a trusted comrade for assistance. Trusted especially, given how sensitive those tendrils truly were. Luar'ka had seen Than'ja perform the same task on Ikthya'de and Kar'kha and the youngest of the brothers had become so relaxed during the process he'd flat out dozed off. Luar'ka now understood why Me'vi-te had shrieked so loudly in anger during their fight the season before when she'd bitten into one his tendrils; it had to have seriously hurt.

Her feathers twitched at his touch, stunningly gentle for what one might expect of a creature capable of such raw power and violence. She had since decided that while it did feel good to have her feathers handled, it wasn't something she felt she could get used to.

"You have far too much you do not yet know to begin forming any presumptions." Than'ja warned her, "And do not forget, there are Yautja that will see you as prey or worse."

"How does it get worse than being viewed as prey?" she demanded to know.

"I am certain there are some Yautja who would decide to try to eat you."

She blanched at this and made a face of disgust, "Well, I hope that Warkha is not one of those."

"You need not worry; I believe you are far too scrawny to eat."

"Hey!" she snapped indignantly, though she had to work to suppress the amused giggle that threatened to escape her.

Than'ja switched to her other wing, brushing down her feathers the same way, "To some, you are viewed as an exotic enigma," he said, "To others, you are a 'pet' or a nuisance. You have never been unguarded, Luar-ke Lar'ja. To the Yautja who view you as prey or potential food, the chance to strike you has not come. I know little of Warkha, but I do not believe he will attempt to consume you."

"But you do know of him?" she pressed.

"Yes. He is an Arbitrator for the Sev'kai. I have never personally spoken with him, but he is rather difficult to miss."

No arguing that. He stuck out like an oak tree in the desert.

"How old is he?" she asked.

"I believe he is somewhere close to four hundred years old. He is quite aged. He has also built a fearsome reputation as a Hunter. He is one of only two recent Yautja to successfully bring down a Kra'vkat'ke on his own."

"What!?" Luar'ka exclaimed, whirling suddenly, causing Than'ja to accidentally yank a handful of feathers out of her wings. She hissed in pain and grunted when he grabbed her shoulders and forcefully turned her back around, facing her away from him. She sighed and stared forward, processing what she'd just heard. The Kra'vkat'ke were a species of deadly sea beast, similar in shape to a giant salamander. Its tail was large and flat, creating a powerful paddle and its hide was comprised of thick, impervious scales that shone in a myriad of colors, capable of adapting to the colors of its environment to blend in and wait for prey. Its mouth was lined with serrated teeth, and opened almost five feet wide. They were the natural enemies of the Hssinkish and the Yautja were granted access to them in exchange for information and the exemption from Hunting by the sentient reptilian race. But they were so strong that while many Yautja attempted, very few succeeded in Hunting them. Even worse, very few returned from attempts to Hunt them. The Kra'vkat'ke were some of the only creatures in the known universe that had become known for devouring Yautja Hunters.

"How did he do it?" she breathed in amazement. She'd only ever seen pictures of the great monsters, but images were enough. Than'ja shook his head, "No one is certain, young one. A fellow pack member watched him dive into the water and when he appeared next again, he was dragging the head of the beast on a strong line behind him. Even now, he is still quite strong from what I understand."

Luar'ka frowned, her mouth set in a thin line. Here she was finding out about Warkha being one of the stronger Arbitrators the Sev'kai boasted and she had to go and insult him somehow. The time she stared at him in the main hall. It was the only thing she could think of as to why he'd be at all so bent on pursuing her. She'd insulted him and now she was going to pay the price.

Than'ja finished brushing her wings. He scooted back a few feet to rifle through his pack of supplies while Luar'ka folded her wings down and turned to him, desperate for something to get her mind off the trouble at hand.

"Show me how." she said.

He looked up at her, his head cocked curiously, "Show you what?"

"Explain to me how to care for your tendrils. I would like to learn, and to repay the favor for brushing my wings."

Than'ja stared at her a while, his dark eyes narrowed as he thought it over. Normally, he had Ikthya'de care for his tendrils when they needed it and again, it was a matter of trust to allow anyone to touch them. The only exceptions were during the beading ceremonies when Yautja received higher rank and honor for their accomplishments with beads and trinkets that were then fused into their strands. Like the pleating ceremony as Unbloods, the beading process was excruciatingly painful, but they were expected to endure it. Basic care was a little different, but he understood her vantage point. He had a small vial of the oils used on their tresses in his pack. He dug it out and held it for a moment, considering it briefly. He sighed and motioned her forward, "If you pull them, I will attack you." he warned darkly. He was serious.

"I will not pull them." she said sternly. She took the vial from him and stood up, moving behind him, "What do I do?"

Than'ja sat slightly hunched to make it easier to reach his tendrils; even sitting down, he was up to her chest in height. He sighed heavily, "You are to take the vial and pour a small amount into your hands. Make sure your skin is well-coated." he instructed.

She did so, setting the vial down and rubbing the oil through her palms and fingers. It was indescribably slick and smelled like several different varieties of nuts. Starting out a dull golden color in the vial and resembling the salve Than'ja kept in his medical supplies, when applied to her skin it took on a slightly greenish hue, perhaps reacting to the chemicals on her hands.

"Now," he said, exhaling deeply as he forced himself to relax, "You must begin to work the oil along the length of each tendril, starting as close to the base as possible and work your way down to the tip of the end."

"What if I use too much?" she asked.

"That is not a concern. Feel free to use more if you need to. I have plenty in supply."

She stepped closer to him and reached out carefully, taking hold of one of his tendrils with a featherweight grip. A visible shudder ran through him and she wasn't sure if he was uncertain of someone new handling these extremely sensitive appendages or not. He didn't complain, though, so she continued. She began to slowly and gently massage the oil from her hands all along the surface of the single tendril, twisting her hand around its base as close to his skull as she could before moving further down. He shuddered again, a deep rumble forming in his chest. As she finished with the first tendril and moved on to the second one, this rumble slowly began to form into a purr. Luar'ka smiled slightly, relieved that she seemed to be doing the process correctly. She moved back and forth along the tendril, working more oil in. She found their texture to be quite interesting. They looked rough and solid by just looking at them, but to actually touch them, they were surprisingly soft and flexible. The texture was almost velvety smooth. She was aware that, like her feathers, their tendrils were completely alive and capable of sensation. However, theirs appeared to be at least three times more sensitive. As Than'ja continued to purr and occasionally shiver from the sensation of it, she supposed it was a fair description to say that the tendrils were basically exterior, living nerve endings. She moved the two finished ones aside and gently lifted the third one to receive treatment. She gathered more oil into her hands from the vial and set to work again. Than'ja's purr increased in volume and his head and shoulders dipped slightly. He was finally relaxing properly.

Luar'ka felt honored that he trusted her enough to assist him with this delicate necessity. To him, once he finally became used to it and settled down, it wasn't a big deal. To her though, it honestly felt like yet one more step toward complete and total acceptance into the Yautjan world. She was able to momentarily forget her troubles with Warkha, the anxiety of Sechinde forcing the role of communicator on her and her own inner worries of more trivial things, such as her wings and their functionality. For now, she allowed herself to work and relax a little as well, content with the fact that at least one Yautja appeared to trust her implicitly.

It was enough for the time being.

A/N: Sorry for the lateness in the update. The story has been finished entirely and I'm currently taking a short break. I have started the sequel. I've been away from home for three months and I go home this saturday. I got a random idea for a way to poke fun at the mimicry the predators use while hunting so I thought about incorporating that somehow. As for the completion of the story, a huge shout out to werewolfbleu, without whose help, this story would be vastly different. As we speak, something interesting may be developing for the story, but I'll save the details on that until I'm positive. So for now, I hope you enjoyed this most recent chapter.