Golden Thorns: Chapter Nineteen
The day started well. A short trip to the edge of the forest followed by a quick camp build. The other teams set off immediately but SOUL lagged behind. They wanted to see which direction people were going so they could avoid them and set up their trap in peace. It took them an hour to find a clearing of ideal size and another half hour to set the bait. They then climbed the trees and set about waiting. The sun rose high in the sky and not a creature could be seen. Still they waited.
A slight scuffling of footsteps. A break of a twig. A rustle of leaves. The Boarbatusk slowly edged into the clearing. When it thought it was safe it moved towards the small puddle of sap and started to lap up the sweet, sugary fluid.
With a flick of the wrist, Marie threw the net. The weights pulled it down, covering the Grimm. Immediately, she and Coran fell from the trees, pinning the net into the dirt. Devlyn burst into the clearing and threw his rope around the beast's tusks, pulling them down into the hard soil. Then Jo was there. She jumped onto the creatures back and shoved the end of her baton into the small hollow behind its front legs. They held it as it slowly stopped struggling. Its squeals subsided and the forest was quiet once again.
The whole process had taken thirty seconds from net throw to silence. Coran stood. The others followed his lead. "And you thought you were going to get gouged" he grinned at Devlyn.
"I almost did. Cripes that thing was strong." He said letting out an audible sigh of relief.
"I suppose we should find a way to take it back to the camp." Said Marie, "I know I have not the strength required for such a task as carrying it." That trademarked smile slowly forming on her lips.
"Yeah, that rodeo really took it out of me," agreed Jo, sharing in the joke.
"Oh I see. Playing the gender card, are we?" Sighed Dev. "Come on Cor, let's get this great lump mov-"but he stopped abruptly when he saw Coran's expression. His eyes were closed, his hand held out from his body, one finger extended upwards. He was listening and was asking for quiet. Far off in the distance the sounds of a skirmish had started up, but that wasn't what Coran was listening for. Slowly he raised his glaive and held it close, hands evenly spaced along the haft. His team slowly sank into defensive crouches, spear, baton and cinquedea at the ready.
At that moment a Beowolf leapt into the clearing. Right into the blade of Coran's glaive. As it smashed into the ground four more sprung from the surrounding foliage. He spun round and fired off a shot into one. Devlyn, holding the long knife in a reverse grip, rolled out from under the pounce of another, slashed out the back of its legs and imbedded his blade into the base of its skull. Jo had matador jumped and was riding on the back of hers, wrestling it to the ground with her baton in its mouth, crackling with static. Marie had already dispatched hers with a slash, quick twirl and a stab in the throat.
More were coming, however. It seemed like they had stumbled onto the hunting grounds of a full pack. Coran let fly another three shots, dropping two of the creatures. A third jumped onto him. He raised the haft of his Weapon and the Beowolf bit down on it. He twisted his grip and the beast was thrown into the dirt. He finished it off with a quick stab to the throat and turned his attention to the rest. A wild swipe caught him off guard and knocked him to the ground. As the Beowolf went in for the kill he raised his weapon just in time to impale the Grimm.
He rolled over and slid the blade out of the corpse and got up ready to fight… only to see three of the creatures advancing on Marie, teeth bared and claws flexing. She dealt with one with three rapid slices. Another with a parry, strike and a sidestep. The last one jumped on her, forcing her to the ground. Totally out of character, he did something reckless. He sprinted across the clearing and jumped into the scramble, his blade swinging home and lodging in the beast's shoulder. Coran and Marie were thrown in opposite directions as it flailed and roared in pain. It keeled over and once again the forest was quiet. He looked around for his team. Devlyn was standing triumphantly over two dead 'wolves and Jo was confirming her kills with a small knife. Both had scratches and bruises but none were as bad as Marie. In the final grapple with the Beowolf it had torn a great wound across her side, staining her pure white shirt a deep red.