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.

27. Twenty Seven

Twenty-Seven

Luar'ka could smell Thwei'ja's weakness. She knew he was still recovering and she knew that part of his exhaustion stemmed from his lengthy trek after her. So while they rested in the human dwelling, she knew her senses needed to be trained higher than ever. Thwei'ja was close to his limit. The raspy breaths he took, the way his head bowed forward as he sat against the wall, the deep injury on his back, everything showed and even he was having trouble hiding his fatigue.

This was why it came as little surprise to her that he didn't notice the faint hissing sounds coming from outside the broken down home. Alerted by her growling, Thwei'ja donned his bio-mask and armor and readied himself for action. Luar'ka watched him carefully as she turned to face the door. The rain was still pouring down in sheets. Thwei'ja's mask wouldn't work as efficiently as it normally would. On top of that, the cloak wouldn't function in this weather and they knew it. Luar'ka didn't even have much armor, a mask, or the cloak, so she'd have to rely on her speed and her knife to help her through this.

Thwei'ja crept into the shadows carefully, his gaze focused on the broken portal opposite their position. Luar'ka watched him carefully, hunkered down near the doorway leading further into the dwelling. He peered out through the rain and haze. Faint skittering footsteps could be heard racing around outside in the downpour. Luar'ka stared forward, waiting for the right opportunity as she crept further into the open.

Sckreeee!

Thwei'ja roared suddenly as the door caved in behind him and the telltale oily black form of the kainde amedha barreled into the room, its tail lashing as it stood on the weakened, busted door beneath its feet. It straightened up, saliva pouring from its mouth as it snarled at its hated foe. Thwei'ja charged forward, just in time to meet the monster as it jumped toward him, colliding heavily with him as both fighters grappled to get in a good hit.

Luar'ka leaped up onto the back of an old chair, struggling to remain quiet, lest she break Thwei'ja's concentration as he struggled with his foe. She watched intently, waiting for any moment she might be needed to jump in and assist. Her feathers flared as another hissing screech echoed in from outside and another ominous black head snaked its way through the open doorway, spying the ongoing fight raging in the corner. Luar'ka watched in horror as this second beast hissed menacingly and rushed inside, charging Thwei'ja still battling the first one in the corner of the dwelling. The first Hard Meat had grabbed onto his arm with its sharp teeth and he lashed his other arm downward, his wrist blades grazing off the side of its domed head, but the force hard enough to cause it to let go with a hiss. The second one leaped onto his chest and Thwei'ja reacted quickly, shoving his newly freed arm up into the beast's jaws and saving his face from being ripped off as it lunged downward. His fist closed around the second jaw and he yanked hard, ripping it out of the creature's mouth and backing away to avoid the spray of corrosive blood pouring out as it snarled at him.

Luar'ka, crouched in the shadows, watching in growing horror as Thwei'ja was slowly overwhelmed. She wanted to call out to him, help him in some way. He was exhausted from his journey and still healing from his injuries. But she knew that she had to stay silent for the moment and let him handle it.

So when a third kainde amedha made its presence known in the open doorway, its rain soaked armor gleaming in the crack of a sudden lightning strike, Luar'ka's eyes darkened. She wasn't going to let another of these monsters attack her packmate. Silently as she could, she bolted down from the back of the chair and raced toward the door, barreling into the newcomer with all the strength she had. At just over five feet high, she didn't weigh very much, but her full body tackling the new Hard Meat was enough to send it reeling backward out the door, away from the fight still raging inside the human dwelling. She heard Thwei'ja roar angrily, but outside of his voice, everything else was lost to her as she focused on her reeling target, writhing on the ground where she'd tackled it. She was able to recover much more quickly than the creature did, scrambling to her feet and hissing. The kainde amedha stood up and faced her, snarling and salivating heavily. It rushed her and she swiveled out of its way, unsheathing her knife and raking it across its head. Its stride faltered, its jaws snapping viciously at her as it stumbled briefly, turning to face her, its tail lashing. A sharp crashing sound inside the dwelling drew both of their attention away as the lifeless corpse of one of the monsters smashed through the side of the home suddenly, splintering wood and remaining glass from the portal. At the same time, another kainde amedha perched on the roof of the dwelling, clawing its way down the side and enough to push its head through the gaping hole where Thwei'ja could be heard battling the remaining creature fiercely. Luar'ka watched as the creature she'd been fighting appeared to lose interest in her and start creeping back toward the home, toward the louder fight. She screeched shrilly and leaped onto the back of the beast, digging her knife into its neck and yanking it back out before the acid blood could coat it too thoroughly. It snarled shrilly in anger and whirled as she leaped off its back and landed several feet away, her tail lashing for balance. She beat her wings furiously, her feathers flaring as she bared her teeth, spreading her feet apart and bellowing a challenge to her opponent. Thwei'ja had enough to deal with while fighting two of these creatures while his body was still exhausted and wounded. Luar'ka wasn't about to let a fourth one join the fight and was determined to keep this one focused on her. Her challenge worked; it turned and hissed sharply, charging toward her and tackling her to the ground on her back. Her feet clawed viciously against its belly, shoving with all her might to push it off as she shoved her knife up into its mouth. She felt the blade lodge into the bones of its skull through the roof of the mouth, just missing the brain cavity. It issued a shriek of pain and this gave her the opportunity to shove its flailing body off of her, rolling to her feet and lunging at it in a series of mock charges, trying to entice it to follow her. It rose up on its hind legs, tail slashing the air viciously. She had its full attention and she took off toward the trees, hearing it charge after her and leaving the sounds of the battle behind them. She tore through the trees and thick bushes, feeling twigs and branches snap beneath her feet as she ran surely and swiftly, back toward the ravines outside the village. The sharp shrieks and snarls of the creature weren't far behind her. She didn't dare turn around as she ran, searching her environment quickly for just the right battleground for her needs. She couldn't fight this thing at her size just anywhere; she needed height and she needed crags. In the darkness and the rushing vegetation, she stumbled badly when her feet hit slippery rocks suddenly, climbing the slope up through the trees. She recovered quickly and scaled the rocks, feeling the vibrations through the air as the Hard Meat took a snap at her leg and just barely missed. Now placed on a rock several feet above the creature, she turned for the first time and stared down at it. It scrambled up the rocks after her, hissing ominously at her as she leaped up onto a higher rock, out of its reach. It hit her then, as she dodged another of its attacks; she was alone in this fight. This was a mirror of the fight she'd endured the year before when she was being pursued by another of this creature's brood. But this time, she knew things would end differently. Luar'ka tore across the ridge, practically feeling the thing pursuing her as she wove around the rocks on the narrow trail. She tumbled down a muddy slope, falling into a rocky overhang held up by a large, narrow rock, almost like a natural shelter. Undeterred from the slippery slope, the black monster charged after her, moving nimbly down the incline and straight into the overhang. Luar'ka tumbled out through the other side and landed on all fours on the pebble-covered slope, watching as the creature followed her through the gap and instantly got its spines lodged in the rocks. It screeched and flailed furiously, its tail slashing through the air dangerously close to her face. Luar'ka scowled, baring her teeth as she rushed forward, leaping up onto the rocks over the flailing tail and coming down to land directly on it, crushing it against the ground beneath her. The creature struggled furiously to escape its rocky prison and she knew she didn't have much time. She unsheathed her knife, turning it in her hand as she brought it up, slashing downward on the end of the tail she had pinned beneath her. The blade sliced easily through the relatively thinner hide of the end of the tail, severing the wicked bladed end, which bounced down the slope, the acidic blood sizzling and eating through the rocks it splashed onto. The rain slightly diluted it and it cooled much more quickly than normal. The kainde amedha unleashed a bellow of anger at the loss of its tail and shifted its center of gravity, smashing against the rocks as it finally freed itself. The overhang came crashing down, cracking and tumbling heavily down the slope, just missing Luar'ka as she leaped out of the way, landing steadily on a higher ridge and pulling herself up. Gasping, she turned, still clutching the knife handle as she faced her enemy. Acidic blood gushed from the end of the tail. Luar'ka no longer had to worry about the bladed tail, but she still had to contend with that horrible mouth. Furious, the creature lunged toward her, narrowly missing snatching her with those terrible jaws as she ducked beneath its grasp, tumbling once down the slope and righting herself quickly. The creature, now angered beyond belief, screeched and charged down after her. Luar'ka coiled her legs and jumped up over it as it reached her position, flipping her body in the air and grabbing its spines with a death grip, hanging onto its back as strongly as she could as it began to flail and buck, trying to throw her off. She hung on, gripping its hard, thick spines and digging her claws and talons in as she released her right hand, still holding on to the knife handle. Before she could flip the knife to a stabbing angle, the beast reared back suddenly and smashed against the rocks behind it, knocking the air out of her lungs as her body was crushed against them beneath the weight of the creature. A flaring, flaming pain erupted within her chest and only for her claws digging into the creature's back did she manage to keep from falling off. The creature hissed savagely and whirled, and Luar'ka ground her teeth, shaking the stars from her eyes as she flipped the knife and leaned forward, pulling her arm back and jamming it forward with a shrill scream that carried into the sky. The blade of the knife plunged into the neck of the beast, sinking deep into the spot where she'd stabbed it shortly before. The well-made blade, strong enough to sever through skin, and muscle, and bone, and tendon, sank further and further into the creature's neck. Luar'ka cried out as the acid blood began to spill out and splashed against her hand and she sliced the blade further back toward her own body, away from the flow of blood. The blade plunged up around the line of the neck, toward the vertical spines on the creature's back. With this cut, its spinal cord was severed and its movements suddenly halted, replaced by eerie, twitchy convulsions as its thrashing ceased. Luar'ka pulled her hand back and toppled off the back of the beast, landing heavily in the rocks as she hugged her hand tightly against her chest, tears streaming from her eyes due to the pain. Even through her watery vision, she could see her hand, could see that it hadn't been completely coated in acid blood, but had received enough that her skin and smaller chunks of muscle had been singed away, blood flowing freely down her hand and her arm. Nearby, the body of the kainde amedha collapsed in a sickening heap on the ground, the acidic blood flowing from the neck and down the slope, the sizzling and crackling loud enough to almost hurt her ears as it carved out a smoking, black trail through the rocks, forming a bubbling, scorching pool at the bottom that ate away any and all vegetation it came in contact with. Luar'ka lay there, her chest heaving as her head throbbed from the blow. Her breath came in shaky gasps, her whole body shaking as the adrenaline slowly began to wear off. Her eyes didn't focus very well, but she could see the dead monster lying not far from her. It lay motionless, the rain pouring hard around them. Luar'ka's entire body was soaked, her feathers drooping from the weight of the water coating them. She couldn't bring herself to move, her eyes glued on the body of the Hard Meat.

She had killed it. She had actually killed it.

It was a long time before she could bring herself to move, and it was only thanks to the sound of footsteps approaching her position, forcing her to struggle to sit up, her wings quivering and her body shaking to match. She raised her head, looking up as Thwei'ja approached her. She stared at him, her eyes still watery from the pain of the acid eating through her skin. He had survived, his body now riddled with deep gashes and wounds where his bright green blood ran freely and easily down his skin, washed away by the rain. He stared at her, his mask rendering his face nearly emotionless but for one corner where it had been cracked and broken, revealing his blood-shot right eye. His armor was cracked and shattered in some places. Blood poured from his tendrils and she could see where one of them had been completely bitten in two. So much blood was pouring from his injuries that his skin was nearly dyed green. Unless he told her, it was impossible to tell how many of those creatures he'd had to fight before he finally emerged victorious. Luar'ka heaved herself to her feet, shakily standing before him and eying him up and down.

"You...you are wounded..." she muttered through the downpour. Thwei'ja rumbled deeply, but this was different than his past growls directed at her. This one was much deeper, almost contemplative as he stared her down. He almost seemed to be examining her. He removed his mask slowly, setting it on the ground as he stepped forward and knelt down. He reached down, grasping her right arm with a grip that wasn't exactly gentle, but wasn't nearly as firm as it could have been. He cocked his head at her scorched and shriveled skin, her entire hand a blotchy red and white pattern where the acid had eaten parts of her flesh away, revealing muscle beneath. She was lucky; anymore exposure to that vicious concoction and she could have lost that hand altogether. Luar'ka struggled to keep her fingers open, afraid to close her hand in case it should freeze that way.

"I...," she stammered, "I killed it, Thwei'ja. I think I cut its throat open."

She turned slightly to glance sidelong at the lifeless corpse behind her. He examined her hand, turning it carefully and stretching her fingers back. He ticked his tusks together curiously, another low rumble escaping him as he released her and stood, moving over to the corpse of the kainde amedha. He bent down, examining the neck where she'd slashed it nearly clean off. The spine was completely sliced through but for one, tiny sliver still holding the head to the rest of the body. The corpse was still sizzling as blood continued to leak from the gaping orifice. Thwei'ja chuffed softly and turned to her, issuing a soft bark as he ordered her to approach. Luar'ka did so, her legs weak and shaky from the adrenaline leaving her system. The rain had slowed at this point and she was grateful for it as she began to shiver from the chill. But she ignored it as best she could while she knelt down beside him, watching him carefully. Thwei'ja pulled a knife from a holster about his thigh, similar to the one she now wore. He reached toward the corpse and grabbed the right arm, using the knife to deftly slice the front claw from the hand. He gently shoved her into a sitting position in front of him and indicated she watch. He leaned over and dipped the tip of the claw into the sickeningly yellow blood still bubbling free of the body. He turned again and faced Luar'ka, placing his left hand on her head with his thumb brushing her feathers aside. He raised the claw up and she watched, her breath coming in short, nervous gasps as he touched the acid-covered tip of the claw to her forehead. Her body threatened to shake violently, but she ground her teeth together and held it back, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the acid sear away the skin on her forehead. He seemed to be at it for hours, but he finally finished and pulled away swiftly to prevent an accidental burn. He set the claw down, waiting as she relaxed as her fresh marking healed. Gradually, Luar'ka's breathing slowed and she cracked her eyes open, raising them slowly to look at him in disbelief. Had he really just done that?

"Thwei'ja...what...?" she mumbled.

He reached down to take her left, uninjured hand and opened it up. Using his claw, he retraced the mark he'd just engraved onto her forehead, two half-moon symbols with curves facing one another and two matching symbols upright and facing one another at opposite angles. Luar'ka's eyes widened and her gaze shot up to his face where, now somewhat marred by the many scars he carried, a similar mark had been etched long ago into his elegant crest above his eyes. It was the mark of the Clan, of the Sev'kai.

"The mark?" she muttered.

"You fought bravely by my side," he rumbled slowly, deeply, "You faced your foe without fear and you assisted well in the defeat of our shared enemy. You challenged your foe and bested it. You have emerged victorious and earned the mark of the Clan."

Luar'ka jumped and immediately bowed her head before him, "My deepest gratitude, honored Leader." she said quietly, "I will uphold the honor of the Clan until I can no longer fight and am claimed by the Paya."

Thwei'ja rumbled deeply as he watched her, pleased at her response. He sat back, "You have earned my respect," he told her, "I care little for you, or your well being, I care little for your standing, and should your transgressions kill you, I will not mourn your death. However, I do respect you, and I respect the honor you uphold. Continue to defend this honor as you swear loyalty to the Clan."

"I will." she said without hesitation, "And should my death be ordained for what I have done, I would consider it an honor to fight you to the death."

Thwei'ja stood up and stepped back, gesturing to the corpse of the Hard Meat. Luar'ka knew without words that she was to claim her prize. She moved forward and grasped the knife with her left hand, favoring her injured right hand. She clenched her teeth as she dragged the edge of the knife down through the remaining skin and armor, working feverishly. Thwei'ja stood off to the side, watching her patiently with his broken mask replaced to his face. Finally, the head cracked free of the corpse and Luar'ka caught it before it fell down the slope. She turned it over a few times, trying to figure out how to carry it. Thwei'ja stepped forward and knelt again. He pulled some more thick cord from the pack about his waist and, to her surprise, showed her how to string up the head upside down and at an angle to prevent more blood from splashing onto her while she carried it. Luar'ka followed his movements and then copied them when he handed the cord off to her, recreating his technique somewhat slowly, but successfully. To her amazement, he nodded in approval and rumbled deeply in satisfaction. As she watched him stand up and head back in the direction of the human village, she couldn't suppress the intense feeling of pride she felt; of all the scant praise she'd received over the past year, she knew without a shadow of doubt that she would never forget what it felt like to receive praise from Thwei'ja. For as long as she lived, she would remember this day.

/ooo/

They returned briefly to the human settlement. Luar'ka didn't understand why, at first. She walked quickly behind Thwei'ja, keeping her trophy close to her back with the cord strung across her chest just as he'd shown her. He never glanced at her, but he wasn't nearly as tense at her presence as he'd been before. He said she'd won his respect. Honestly, Luar'ka felt honored to even know this much.

As they entered the human village again, walking along the cracked and broken street, Luar'ka understood why he'd returned to this place. She was able to see that after she'd taken off into the trees with her pursuer on her heels, Thwei'ja had had to battle a total of four kainde amedha. She could see the bodies in the remains of their shelter. And judging from how many more wounds he'd received, Luar'ka was deeply secretive of her worry for his condition. But she didn't dare voice this concern aloud, not if she valued her own life at all.

She watched as he approached the various corpses he'd left behind and examined them. He took no trophies from his kills and Luar'ka watched as he pulled a small vial of blue liquid out of his satchel. He opened it and poured a small amount of the liquid over the corpse of the creature nearest him. She watched in amazement as the body began to fizzle and dissolve before her eyes, shrinking further and further down until there was nothing left of it. He straightened up and moved to the other corpses, performing the same thing to each of them until there was nothing left. Luar'ka felt the blood drain from her face when she realized how near she'd been to having that strange fluid used on her had she successfully revealed—

No! No, she would not think of that. That chapter of her life was over and done with, this time for good! She was Blooded now; she had more important things to worry about! Enough!

She snarled, making Thwei'ja look up at her curiously, cocking his head to one side. He grumbled to himself as he finished his task, straightening up with a heavy sigh. He turned to her, his visible eye even more bloodshot than before, "Where is your other skull?" he asked her.

"I think I might have left it in the place we were hiding." she told him.

"Go and retrieve it quickly. We must depart soon." he told her.

Luar'ka nodded and ran to the crumbling human dwelling, ducking through the broken doorway and flitting around quickly for her trophy. She retrieved it hanging off the back of the chair where she'd left and hurried back outside where Thwei'ja was still standing, typing something rapidly into his gauntlet. Luar'ka stood silently beside him, watching him carefully. He was alerting the brothers that his mission had reached its end and he required a pick-up.

"How long should it take?" she asked.

"Not long." he replied.

Thwei'ja watched discreetly as the Avian absently reached her hand up to brush against the scar on her forehead, still raw and angry and very sensitive to the touch. Predictably, she hissed softly as she touched it, but refrained from pulling away. She traced the freshly burned lines with the tips of her claws, seemingly in disbelief that the scar was real, that she'd truly been Blooded. Thwei'ja was fighting with himself over his decision to mark her. Part of him screamed that it was wholly against tradition. But his traditional upbringing and his logic reasoned that bravery and strength were to be praised and respected, regardless of species. The Endling had not only succeeded in killing a kainde amedha, but she had held her own against it in the fight, distracting it from him while he fought the others of the brood. He knew she was unable to fight it head to head like the Yautja did, and he was, to his chagrin, impressed that she'd had enough presence of mind to use her own natural speed and agility to lure the creature to a location better suited to her talents. With speed and elevation in her favor against the powerful creature, she'd managed to slay the beast and win his respect.

She hissed again, making him grumble in irritation and smack her hand away from her head, "Enough of that," he snarled finally, "You must allow it to heal."

"Yes, Thwei'ja." she replied, ceasing her fidgeting. He supposed in a sense, he didn't blame her. He still remembered his own Blooding and how he'd struggled to hide his own excitement over the milestone. It had already been so long. Times like this, Thwei'ja truly felt his age weighing heavily on him. He had to admit, watching the Avian resist the urge to keep fondling her raw mark was rather amusing.

Luar'ka looked up at a familiar, ever-so-comforting sound emanating from the sky, her eyes wide. She watched wide-eyed as the cloak disintegrated before her eyes and the familiar ship soared down from the sky, circling once as it came to a graceful landing in the clearing. Thwei'ja watched it the whole way, his eyes narrowed. Luar'ka glanced up at him once and watched as the main entry opened and the ramp lowered. It was hard to contain her sudden rush of relief as she recognized Ikthya'de standing just inside the doorway, staring down at them. It occurred to her that she should be feeling fear now, knowing that she was going to face some kind of punishment for her desertion. It was likely that the others were furious, or worse, disappointed. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach when considering the latter. She almost would rather they be angry.

Thwei'ja gave her a push forward. Hefting the cords holding her trophies behind her, she straightened her back, walking steadily and surely toward the ramp. Her claws braced on the metal; she didn't slip at all as she ascended strongly. She kept her eyes forward, but averted from her brother's gaze as he watched her silently. Thwei'ja came up after her. The ship began to lift into the air just as they cleared the landing, the ramp lifting back into place to meld with the sides of the ship. Luar'ka stood in the center of the entryway, surrounded by the thick white mist she knew so well. She wheezed a few times as her lungs acclimated to the atmosphere she'd grown accustomed to.

She was aware of Ikthya'de and Thwei'ja standing behind her, unmoving and silent. She didn't know what made them hesitate, but she felt fairly certain that this situation was entirely unprecedented. It was completely likely that they hadn't a clue what to do from this point forward.

After a few minutes, Ikthya'de stepped forward and eyed her carefully, moving around to her line of sight. He reached out and examined the trophies she carried, clicking a couple of times at the human trophy, but trilling in surprise and admiration of the kainde amedha trophy hanging beside it. He looked down at her then and his eyes grew wide. He reached out to brush her feathers from her face, taking note of the mark she now carried on her forehead. She kept her head straight and high as he did this, allowing him to see it fully. She'd earned this mark and she would be damned if she wasn't proud of it.

Thwei'ja chuffed sharply, making the younger Yautja back up quickly. Luar'ka felt the elder Yautja shove her forward, moving down the corridor. Luar'ka knew they were heading to the control room. She glanced up at Thwei'ja as she followed beside him, aware of Ikthya'de bringing up the rear. Thwei'ja's breathing was slightly shallow, his mandibles hanging more slack than usual. He was seriously exhausted, but dead-focused on finishing his mission. Luar'ka faced forward, walking as tall as she could as she moved toward her potential fate. No doubt Thwei'ja had already alerted the Leaders about this. It was likely her fate was already decided before she even knew about it. She steeled herself to be ready for anything.

They entered the control room and Luar'ka saw that Than'ja and Kar'kha were already at their stations. Than'ja spared her a small glance as they passed, but Kar'kha didn't even turn his head. He was already difficult for her to read and this didn't help, but she could take a fairly educated guess as to what he was thinking. She didn't blame him.

Thwei'ja sat down at his post and activated the transmitter. Luar'ka expected him to snarl at her to approach, but she was shocked when he glanced back at her and let out a deep rumble, indicating she stand near him. She did so without complaint as the message was answered. It was accepted by Sechinde. Luar'ka was tempted to look away from the screen as her shame became more apparent to her, but she fought this urge off and kept her eyes forward. Sechinde regarded her briefly, his eyes narrowing as he refocused his attention on Thwei'ja, "You have located the Avian." he remarked.

"Yes. I discovered her not far from our landing point. She had made her way to the northern desert system."

"What reason did she provide?"

Thwei'ja pulled his mask from his face and turned it over in his hands. Luar'ka peered over his right arm and got a look at the inner workings of the invaluable masks the Yautja employed; it was clear they were designed specifically for their species. Various controls and minute mechanisms lined the lower front and it appeared that these controls, when activated along with the mask, were operated by the wearer's mandibles to perform various functions regarding the suit and the armor. Luar'ka suspected the masks could be operated remotely through the gauntlets, in case mandibles were lost in battle, but it seemed that the controls were just easier. Thwei'ja reached up toward the visors of the mask and pressed a small, barely visible button. There was a delicate clicking noise and he removed a miniscule bronze colored sphere that had been fastened to the inner frame of the mask between the visors. Reaching over to the panel, he opened a small compartment in the metal frame, revealing a minute depression in the metal, roughly the same size as the sphere. He placed the sphere inside the depression and pressed a series of buttons on the panel. Luar'ka watched in fascination as a strikingly clear visual projection appeared on the screen. Sechinde's head twitched to the right around the same time and she suspected that a copy of the recording from Thwei'ja's mask had been sent to him remotely. She watched with baited breath as Sechinde studied the recordings, taking note of what Thwei'ja had seen on that plateau. Luar'ka forced herself to look as he carefully scanned the multitudes of corpses that littered the ground, as well as the bodies of the humans she'd slain. He'd even recorded her viciously slicing and hacking the first human's head from his body and screeching her cry of vengeance over his death.

The image continued on, progressing for a long while with short skips where Thwei'ja had deactivated his mask. It showed the start of his battle with the kainde amedha, as well as caught glimpses of her own luring of and baiting the third beast, taunting it into taking off after her in the trees. The projection ended with a visual of the beast lying dead on the rocky slope and herself lying on her side near it, sitting up and turning around as Thwei'ja approached her. Thwei'ja focused one more time on the dead creature and then the recording cut off abruptly.

Sechinde had watched silently the whole way through, never once moving or reacting to anything he'd witnessed. When it ended, he turned away from the right side of the screen and focused forward, his gaze returning to Thwei'ja, "This is quite intriguing," he grumbled deeply, "To think that so many Avians existed, yet. And now, no longer."

His gaze turned to Luar'ka, "For this end, you committed this act?" he questioned.

"Yes, Elder Sechinde." she said firmly.

"Your composure tells me much. You are very aware of your situation, Avian. You are well aware of our traditions and our ancient codes by which we abide, are you not?"

"I am, yes."

"And you still deserted." this was a statement, not a question.

"...Yes." she answered after a brief hesitation.

"Answer me why." he commanded, his tone dark and uncompromising. Luar'ka composed herself swiftly; this was it. "We have confirmed, Elder Sechinde. I am the last of my kind. This is now irrefutably true. My motives were selfish; I desired to know that I truly was the last. And now I do."

She felt pride at keeping her voice steady to cover the horrible feeling of her heart aching in pain at her miserable status.

"And now, you do." Sechinde repeated, his words slow and his tone dangerously low, "Your reasons for leaving are founded, however they have caused you to shatter a rule that has formed many a disgraced Bad Blood. Such dishonorable Yautja are permitted to be slain on sight. Do you know why Thwei'ja pursued you?"

"I do." she replied, "He informed me that had I successfully revealed myself, my life would have been forfeit. While I would have understood and accepted my fate, it is my own misfortune that I was not aware of how truly secretive our lifestyle is. For this, I am deeply ashamed of my transgression." she told him, bowing as low as she could. She knew that right now, whatever shreds of honor she still maintained depended on how deep her humility ran. The Paya knew that it was likely her very life depended on this humility.

"You choose to return to our ways, Avian?" Sechinde questioned, his tone uncomfortably dark.

"If I am permitted to do so, yes. I do."

"You have been marked." he stated abruptly. Luar'ka didn't say anything, knowing this wasn't her place to speak. Thwei'ja looked up, "During the battle, she successfully lured away a kainde amedha and beheaded it. She has procured her trophy from its corpse." he explained.

"And this was your decision, Thwei'ja?" Sechinde asked, sounding surprised.

"She fought strongly and aided my fight." he answered simply, knowing the projection would speak volumes of her battle.

Sechinde clicked his tusks thoughtfully, a raspy grumble escaping his throat as he focused again on Luar'ka, "You have been Blooded into our fold, Avian. Are you aware of what this means for you?"

"Not entirely, no." she admitted softly.

"It means you are accepted by our Clan. Bearing our mark, you willingly go forth in pursuit of honor for the sake of the Clan and for the sake of yourself. All victories you attain will bring honor to yourself and to the Clan to which you swear loyalty. This honor is to be upheld at all costs."

"I know. And I am ready."

"This transgression of yours is grave, Avian. You choose to embrace our ways. Now, you will face appropriate consequence for straying from the path set down before you, upon which all honorable Yautja tread."

"I understand and accept, Elder Sechinde."

" Avian, you have committed an act of desertion of your pack and violated one of our sacred codes of honor. However, you stand before me brave and proud regardless. For taking responsibility for your actions, you will be spared a more dire punishment."

He glanced down and typed something into the computer. Almost instantly, a line of text appeared on the screen, glowing bright orange in the low light. Luar'ka caught a glimpse of them before she looked back at Sechinde, "I have sent Thwei'ja a set of coordinates to one of our claimed Hunting territories. Avian, as punishment for your crime, you will spend twenty rotations on this world. Should you survive your time there, you will be pardoned of your transgressions. You must emerge victorious with five trophies from that world."

"...Yes, Elder Sechinde." Luar'ka said, admittedly daunted by this task.

"Should you survive, you are to contact the Clan ship immediately with your progress. You will be given a tracer with which to retrieve your remains upon your death, should you perish."

Luar'ka forced herself to nod, her knees feeling weak in fear that she refused to show. But she knew that Thwei'ja could both hear and smell her blood racing at this proximity.

"I will take care of it, Elder Sechinde." Thwei'ja said. The Elder Yautja nodded in affirmation and abruptly signed off. The room went quiet. Luar'ka was frozen in place, incapable of movement. She swallowed thickly, clenching her fists at her sides.

Thwei'ja copied the coordinates and entered them into the computer, setting their intended destination. The engines roared to life, propelling the scouting ship up further into the sky, powering through the atmosphere of the planet and out into the inky black reaches of space beyond. As inwardly thrilled as she was to be back on board the ship and bound for the emptiness of space that she called home, Luar'ka felt petrified. She was to be marooned on a distant planet for twenty rotations to survive and bring back five trophies. The suffocating black of terror was slowly being replaced by the calm gray of acceptance and she felt her mind starting to rush again.

"Thwei'ja, how long will it take to reach this world?" she asked quietly.

He glanced down at her, clicking his tusks ponderously at her tone, "Reaching N-yuicte will take three rotations with no problems."

"Am I allowed to learn at all about the world I am to visit?" she said, looking toward him.

"To do so would be wise. This particular world is very similar in climate to N'-ithya. However, the creatures are quite different. You may access the archives."

"Then I will begin." she said, turning and heading out of the room without so much as a glance at her brothers.

The control room fell quiet. Thwei'ja glanced around at his unusually silent packmates. The tension was incredibly thick. He looked toward Ikthya'de, standing eerily silent. This Yautja normally looked for any excuse to insert a little snark into a situation. For what reason, Thwei'ja didn't know. Ikthya'de hadn't said a word this entire time. He nodded to him once, signaling that he was to take control for a while. He moved past Ikthya'de, not saying a word as he went. He knew they were staring at him as he left and it made his spines go erect in irritation. But he held himself back. He was exhausted from the journey. He wished for as little conflict now as possible. He returned to his chambers, stepping inside the darkened room. He saw just fine; there was no need for any lights like elsewhere on the ship. Once the door was shut behind him, he set it to locked mode. Only once he was certain there would be no disturbances did he sag against the wall, his knees buckling beneath him as he collapsed on the floor. Breathing heavily, he lay there a while, feeling every single ache and injury he'd received over the past few rotations. Only within the confines of his chambers would he allow himself this time to feel his own weakness, to let his facade as Leader drop and reveal the true exhaustion and pain he felt so deeply. His breath was labored, no doubt a lingering effect from that gash to his back. He was almost too tired to even close his mandibles all the way.

He growled weakly, heaving himself up to his feet and removing his armor and coverings, setting everything in a small, neat pile for easy access. Shuffling over to his pallet, collapsing onto it, struggling to relax. He tossed his head, flipping a few of his tendrils up over his shoulder, away from his face. He needed to rest, now. Recovering his energy was vital. He knew this better than anyone. Once he was recovered more fully, he would eat something to regain his strength. He only had a little while to sleep. He had to take advantage of whatever time he had. Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply and forced himself to relax, allowing himself to fall into a deep, recovering sleep.

/ooo/

Luar'ka knew she should be studying more about this planet apparently dubbed N-yuicte by the Yautja. As the archives stated, it was indeed very similar to N'-ithya. The planet's fauna was mostly dominated by large herbivores. Studying the database, she learned that those enormous, gray-skinned plant-eaters she'd seen being dragged aboard the Clan ship by the Hunting packs originated from this world. The archives had detailed descriptions of large, bipedal creatures with long, bony tails and spines running down the lengths of their backs. Their faces were enormous with long, peg-shaped teeth in the backs of their mouths and sharp, serrated teeth at the front. The claws on their forearms clearly suggested predatory behavior. They were described as averaging close to eight feet high. Aside from them, detailed accounts of enormous aerial reptiles made this world seem extremely daunting to the novice Avian Huntress as she studied the list with growing trepidation. So engrossed did Luar'ka become in her reading that she never heard the door open and shut and someone move inside and sit down beside her. Luar'ka finally noticed when he chuffed softly, making her jump with a shriek as she flipped over a couple of feet away, crouched with her feathers fluffed out in all directions. Ikthya'de watched this display with mild amusement as he stared down at her from his cross-legged position near where she'd been sitting. Luar'ka calmed, smoothing her feathers down as she folded her knees into a sitting position, "How long have you been there?" she asked him.

"A short while," he replied, "I had to hoped to speak with you briefly. It has been quite a while, now."

"Only three rotations, Ikthya'de." she grumbled, moving back over to her screen and shutting it off.

"We are on a swift passage to our Hunting world." Ikthya'de informed her, "It should not be long, now."

"Good." she said.

"Sechinde issued quite a lenient exile on you." Ikthya'de remarked, "He seemed truly impressed by your courage."

"I deserted. I did not expect to be found so suddenly, but it is only right that I am to be punished. To think any less would be arrogant and naïve."

He inclined his head, his mandibles ticking upward, "Many are the disgraced Bad Blood who would see otherwise."

"I am no Bad Blood." she snarled softly, "And I will return from my exile alive, and far stronger."

"I look forward to your return." he said to her, "I have sent my own thoughts toward the Paya that they continue to look after you, as they have done up until this point."

"All we can do is wait and see. What do you believe my chances are?" she asked, turning toward him. He could see how cold her body appeared to be now. He knew she was very nervous about her impending exile. As soon as they touched down, she would be given a tracer, a basic weapon, and then abandoned on the surface of the planet until the time came to retrieve her. But nervous though she was, she was facing her fear with as much determination and bravery as any Yautja warrior. Ikthya'de felt his chest swell with pride at her as he answered her honestly, "I believe your chances are favorable, for more than one reason. Elder Sechinde appears to favor you highly, Luar'ka. The world he has chosen for your exile is quite tame in comparison to some of our others. It almost seems to me that he desires to see you succeed one way or another. Perhaps he wishes to see what you will become if given time to grow."

Her tail swayed gently behind her as she perched on her haunches before the blank screen. She sighed, "Even so, with no other Avians left alive now, my existence almost seems pointless."

"Elaborate."

"You saw the recordings Thwei'ja captured. That was all that remained of my birth Clan. I am now officially the last of the Avians."

She lowered down, folding her knees beneath her and curling her tail around herself. She tucked her wings around her body, "I will be lucky to learn to fly, I will never know their heritage, I will probably never breed. It is a lot to consider."

"You know nothing for certain."

"You and Than'ja and Kar'kha are the only Yautja who actively converse with me. Tell me, how did it come to pass that your kind exists in such relative stability on the Clan ship?"

"Why do you ask this?" he asked, cocking his head.

"I was born into strife within the Clan. We were on the verge of extinction. I knew nothing but tension. Your people are far from harmonious, but you seem to maintain a strange sort of...almost peace, I dare say. There is aggression, but with what I have personally witnessed, there is no true hatred or anger. Only pride, competition, and camaraderie."

Ikthya'de's eyes narrowed, his mandibles working slowly as he considered his answer. He looked away, staring off into space, "This was a learned behavior, Luar'ka," he explained, "It is difficult to believe that survival in such close quarters could be possible without developing a tolerance for the closeness. We rarely return to our homeworld, and as such we are always together on the Clan ship. It is something we have learned to adapt to out of necessity. Even with this, there is aggression, there is hostility, and with the constant closeness, personal territories are precious to us as individuals. However I do not believe we would prefer it any other way. When all has been completed, we are a Clan, drawing upon both strength and comfort from one another. Traditions develop and fall out of practice, Yautja are born, and Yautja die, every season without fail. We adapt to the changes and become better for them. But we are always a Clan and we stand honorably together, or else we fall honorably together."

Luar'ka stared at him silently, her eyes wide. Never before had she heard Ikthya'de speak so softly and seriously. It was strange, certainly. She was fully aware of how intelligent he was, but this wiser side of him was rarely seen and it seemed to her, in recent times, that she was the only one whom he allowed to view it. She'd always known this about the Yautja; beneath their aggressive behavior and ferocious outlooks, they were all still brothers fighting for the same goals. There were plenty of disagreements, certainly, and there was no shortage of short tempers and enraged brawls over petty insults and injuries. The Yautja were far from complete cohesiveness and certainly not an internally peaceful race by any stretch. But to say they were barbaric amongst themselves was an overstatement. In reality, they led surprisingly simple lives in pursuit of the same things on the grand scale. They essentially lived without fear and without any boundaries holding them back. They were completely free and took advantage of it, traversing the galaxy and Hunting where they saw fit. But they weren't mindless killers, thoughtless savages, at least not normally. If they had been, there was no way she'd have been allowed to progress as far as she had. Luar'ka was honestly able to say that despite appearances, she felt completely at ease with them and their erratic lifestyle. She understood the quirks of her birth kind well enough to know what was happening and she knew she had no power with which to fight it.

She was imprinting on them. She knew it wouldn't be long before she assimilated entirely, so long as they permitted it.

/ooo/

She had feathers instead of tendrils. Her scales weren't as pronounced. Her body was lighter than even the scrawniest of Unbloods. She had wings. Luar'ka could see every physical difference that separated her from her brothers as they stood in the main entryway of Thwei'ja's ship. The engines roared as they slowed its progression through the atmosphere of the new planet. Luar'ka did her best to calm her racing heart as she watched Ikthya'de make the finishing touches on a bracer he'd spent the last couple of rotations modifying to fit her tiny wrist. He held it against his right hand while his left manipulated a miniscule tool, adjusting the inner workings of the bracer. It made one short, metallic beep and he closed the back, sealing it shut again. He turned it over and knelt down, reaching for her right arm. He fastened the bracer to her arm, adjusting its width so it hugged her flesh firmly. He threaded her fingers through thin, barely visible cords attached to a small press that flattened itself against her palm. She pulled her arm back, the bracer surprisingly heavy as she examined it. It was a bit on the large side for her, but she knew that if she were allowed to keep it, she would eventually grow into it. Just as she'd watched them do, she clenched her fist, putting pressure against the press and allowing the serrated blades to shoot out of the body of the gauntlet. She clenched again and released tension, and the blades retracted swiftly.

Ikthya'de stood up and stepped back away from her, standing off in the shadows with Than'ja and Kar'kha. Thwei'ja had set the ship to autopilot and now stood at the doorway, his arms held at his sides rigidly as he stared at her.

"You who are to be exiled, prepare your mind and your body." he rumbled deeply.

Luar'ka closed her eyes, steeling herself as best she could. She'd been given nothing to help her, save for the bracer. She also had the knife Kar'kha had given her on Illmianyar. These would be her only tools of defense and of Hunting. She'd armed herself with knowledge of the flora and fauna of the planet, as much as she could with the time allowed. She zeroed her mind in on her coming task, knowing that her very life hung in the balance.

The ship came to a gliding stop on the planet's surface, the landing so smooth she hardly felt it. Thwei'ja activated the doors, lowering the ramp. He proceeded out first, followed by Luar'ka and the brothers behind her. Luar'ka descended the ramp and set her foot down on mossy, damp rock. She glanced up, her eyes wide as she faced the thick natural mist hanging low over what appeared to be a dense, vibrant rainforest. Strange, unknown calls echoed through the air and the air felt heavy and damp. The whole place smelled of wet dirt. She couldn't see far through the thick fog.

She turned slowly as her brothers began to file back into the ship. They didn't spare her a glance, and she didn't expect them to. Thwei'ja lingered, watching her stonily. Luar'ka looked over at him, standing as tall as she could. She unfurled her wings and bowed her head toward him. Thwei'ja stared her down, his thoughts unreadable. He dipped his head slightly, slowly. Luar'ka returned the gesture and watched as he whirled and stalked back into the ship. She could feel her heart thudding in her throat as she watched the doors shut behind him. The ship raised up into the air, turning and firing the engines to push high into the sky, away from the surface of the planet. She watched it the whole way until it vanished in the clouds. Then, she turned, facing the cliffs before her as she spread her wings. She let out a low snarl, charged forward and dove off the side of the cliff, unfurling her wings and vanishing into the gloom of the mist.

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Hopefully, a twenty page chapter makes up for it slightly. Werewolfbleu is at it again with our collaboration story, A Madness of Predators, a collection of short little drabbles featuring our characters pulling a CLAMP and getting cameos in each others' worlds. Go check it out! It's got a great start!