If there was one thing that Clayton loved was the thrill, the rush, of the hunt. There was always this catharsis, a satisfaction, when he found himself faced with untamed beasts needing the just hand of his gun to quell them. A roar, a bang, a whimper, then the perversion of silence that lingered overhead, singing his graces, his success, over the most powerful that nature had to offer...bested by the cunning, by a man.

There had always been that sense of need to win, to overcome, bred into him as a boy, living and thriving in the winding halls of his family home, each room and corridor a mere extension of his de facto kingdom, and each hapless butler, maid, and nanny his willing (or in any case, unwilling) subject. It was nothing for him to exert himself, to bellow a single word, an unabated command, and have any and all that heard it follow it to the letter, and now it remained all the same that nature itself should follow suit. The branches, vines, and leaves, forest flora presenting as nothing more than an obstacle, bending and breaking in his wake as he parted them from the path, many of the men behind doing largely the same, each swing bringing a bit more of the forest ahead into view, though it didn't quite aide in clearing the brush around them. Even so, there was an air of pride to the proximity of success, his burning ego already counting the mountains of money that he would surely be swimming in by the end of this expedition.

Of course, not just for the money, mind you.

With his family's wealth, even doing this for free would have been a non-issue, the man mused to himself, taking a particularly forceful swing to a nearing branch as they crossed further, deeper, into the forest, the man noting a slight drizzle that dripped from the canopies above. Just a he commanded the plants to make way for him and his men, all the same, the rain above demanded their attention, giving each of them pause as Clayton raised his hand for them to stop.

Scenting the area, that rising satisfaction only seemed to grow in his chest, excitement blooming as the inclement weather only presented a greater challenge to what he knew, what he predicted, would be a thrilling conundrum...not that he found himself too peeved at the idea of it. After all, he thought snidely as he lowered his hand, a wicked grin spreading over his features, there was nothing gained if there wasn't a struggle for it to be earned from.

"Men, I think here will serve us just fine. Now..." Running a hand along the pack that hung idly by his hip, he grasped the tie and pulled it loose, fishing within for one of his favored treats.

The cigar.

Pulling forth a worn, beaten lighter, he lit the end, taking a long drag of the brown log between his thick fingertips before bellowing out a fog of ash and grey into the wet, humid air. Of course, behind him, his men seemed to wonder what it was that he was waiting for, and in the back of his mind, Clayton couldn't help but liken them to hapless, helpless sheep, all beckoned by him, the watching shepherd.

Weren't they lucky?

Scanning his eyes over the horizon of plants, shrubs, and the like, it was made immediately apparent that making a score with just sight alone wasn't enough. If there was anything that he learned from his many, many trips into jungles just like these...it was that if one was not only going to survive, but to win, they would have to rely not just on one sense...but all of them. Sight, smell, taste, touch...hearing.

Hearing, especially.

There was something so primitive, so invigorating, about the act of hearing and reacting to something before you even got the chance to see and understand what it was.

And that was just what they were going to have to do.

"You lot..." Pausing to take another drag, he regarded the men behind him once more, exhaling with a low sigh, beady eyes settling over them as he spoke, sort of in the same way that his father would look at him when he had only just begun hunting, all those years ago in his youth. It was in his tone that a certain commanding edge took hold.

It felt natural, as if it were the way that he was always meant to sound.

"Begin setting the traps along the forest floor, and loop the netting low, just below their sight line so the ones that don't get caught by the traps can get tangled all the same. I'd like for this to be clean, neat...without complication? Is that clear?" Clayton ordered, and just as quickly, they obliged, nodding and pulling the massive bags and nets off of their backs, setting about doing just as the older man ordered, and all the while, he didn't lift a finger to help.

Why would he, after all?

There was little reason for him to sully his hands with menial labor when something bigger, much, much bigger, was on its way. Turning to watch them toil, each of the twelve men made it their work to busy themselves, rushing to tie the ends of the rope and nets to the bases of the thick trunks that closed on each side of the group, giving no end to the options that they had for their placement. Seeing them push themselves so hard took him back, back to when he was just a boy, saddled right beside his father as he watched their workers, their men, at the time, do just as they did then as they did now. Opening bear traps, set the gorilla traps, tie the netting, loop the lures, all manner of work to make what his father's kill all the easier.

Because after all, helping was what they were hear for, they were here to bolster him.

And the kill was his.

All of this was as natural as the rain itself, and speaking of which, he mused, it seemed to be coming down harder, faster, quickly devolving into a downpour as the waning light dulled to an eerie, clouded black as the sky above began to toil and roll with coming storms.

It was nearly time.

He could feel it.

Turning his attention back to his men, it looked as though they were nearly finished now with the last of the traps, but when his ears perked to the sudden cracking of branches, the shuffling of leaves and brush above the sound of the rain, Clayton didn't have to guess what was on its away.

The very prizes that he'd been looking for.

'Ah, right on time.' He thought calmly, taking just one last drag of his cigar before plucking it from his teeth and dropping it to the ground, stamping it just once with enough force to crush it as the sound called forth attention his men, though they needn't ask the reason why he had, perking their heads in the direction where the noise was now more evident.

Where the troop drew ever closer.

"Now, hide amongst the deeper brush, where they won't be able to spot you as easily. The rain should cover your scent a bit, just don't make a fool out of me by making where you are known. Do you understand?" He stated to the lot, watching sternly as, like loyal dogs, each one nodded silently in kind, each quick to adjust their posture and view to appear more attentive than they were. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that each and every one of the dolts were more than willing to just do what he said, not that he wasn't paying them to do just that.

It wasn't as though he were paying them to think, after all.

Just as quickly, the men dispersed, ducking low into the foliage as the breaths of larger beasts, their hooting, and the sounds of breaking brush closed the distance from afar. There was a certain rush that filled him, a pulsing warmth in his veins as he tried to quiet his breathing, though the excitement was surely getting to him. The rush of it, the hunt, was always hard enough to taper in him, and now was no different, he thought, as the stench of wet fur pelted his senses just like the intrepid rain beating over the men. It was nice, knowing that their scent might be masked better in the downpour; there was nothing more dreary than a ruined hunt because their positions were given too soon.

No...it was much better if they were able to just...wait. Wait until they were just close enough for them to be taken by surprise, and he figured those apes were stupid enough to do just that, wandering blindly into the brush, the wild, untamed, without considering what might be in-store for them. Though, he thought with amusement, it wasn't as if they'd have any idea what to look for, because how could they? They knew not of the tricks of man, not that their dense, misshapen heads really lent well to consideration and thought to that capacity.

That was right, he thought with a smile as they edged closer, their blundering forms thundering through verdant wood.

They wouldn't know, they couldn't know.

After all.

They were just stupid animals.

And just like that, something snapped, crisp, rusted metal snapping shut and crunching upon soft flesh as one of the troop screeched, a burning, rich sound to his ears as the first of the traps had been set off.

Now the hunt could begin.

This cry of panic, of fear, of pain, was enough to send the men up from their hiding spots, each bolting from the bushes and ferns to meet the troop as more and more of the traps were set off. Several of the apes had been caught in the bear traps, great teeth gnawing through bone and sinew with voided mercy as the they tried desperately to yank their arms or legs from its maw. He had to say, even in this rain, this mud and grime, there was something quite lovely about the shimmering red that began to seep into the dark fur of the beast, leaking from their appendages and into the soil below their feet. The stench, too, red and bright, like fresh pennies, a familiar scent as the apes reared around to meet their assailants, each doing their best to get their bearings despite the surprise attack they'd stumbled into.

But there wouldn't be much use in that. Not when the men close in just as quickly, doing their best to ensnare the thrashing creatures. Despite their predicament, the containment born of their entrapments, many of them were still fighting, much like how he knew they would. Too many hunts had taught him that it wasn't enough to simply hurt the creatures; one had to do what they could to make sure they wouldn't be able to fight anymore...no matter how much they wanted to.

And that was just what he intended to do.

"You all! Get to the weaker ones! Secure them in the nets! GO! NOW!" Clayton shouted over growing winds, vile rains, the storm worsening as the sky trembled back and stormy. It was funny how quickly the weather could deteriorate in this place, the man mused to himself as he took the butt of his gun, idle thoughts contradicted by astounding violence as he threw the tail-end of his shotgun into the jaws of one of the younger males. Like music, the resounding crack of bone sent shivers down his spine as the restrained beast thrashed violently against his bindings, throwing massive weight and power towards Clayton in a bid to fight off his advances. Though, skillfully, the hunter managed to dodge, rolling out of the way with little work, little effort, as more of his men, directed by his efforts, closed in, throwing a tight, woven net over the male, even as it cried.

Not that it mattered if it did.

Whether it be from pain, distress, or anything else of the sort, there was only one thing on Clayton's mind.

Domination.

Though, he found that sometimes, maybe, he could get a little carried away, noting the odd, distended way the ape's jaw hung, dark blood seeping down the creature's face, a detail that he didn't miss, even in the chaos and storm.

'Ah, right. Have to remember not to get too carried away, hmm? Nearly took that one's head off...', he thought, giving the writhing ape a scathing look as the net was tied and sealed. He knew that each "damaged good" would just earn him less money, and maybe a bit of a hit to his reputation (couldn't have the big wigs thinking he was prone to damaging their merchandise; he was still a business man after all), but it was hard...showing restraint. If you asked him, they were worth just as much a little roughed up as they were in pristine, untouched condition.

They were all going to the same place anyway.

A0 zoo, a research center, a chop shop, a circus, all the same, really.

But he liked money, too. Couldn't make it if people thought you were sloppy.

Though, he figured out coyly as he turned his attention away from the downed ape, and to the monstrous form of alpha, his hulking form rippling with terrible fury as it fought off several of his men, it didn't hurt to have a little fun every now and again.

- (Elsewhere, same time) -

It was getting harder to see, harder to maneuver, too, in the crashing pellets that pelted thick hide and coat. Many of the nursing mothers found it a little challenging to keep up, even more so with lagging little ones waddling clumsily over branches, trees, and brambles all the same. Terk might have thought it were cute, seeing the little tikes struggle up hills and passes in any other circumstance but this one, where now her mind couldn't help but hope and usher the young ones up each sprawling step. The ape knew that the key to making all of this work was patience, and by any accounts, a hell of a lot of it as, even when considering the healthy adults of their troop, they still required breaks and water and whatever the hell else suited them along the way.

It was a goddamn pain.

It didn't help, having to look back and not seeing her there, knowing full well that the one thing that Kerchak was told to protect apart from the troop wasn't there...it set in her chest, heavy and dark, just like the clouds above. Of course, there was another part of her that wanted to fight against it, the swelling, growing guilt, fear...inadequacy.

'It wasn't my fault...she just...bolted outta here, how was I supposed ta know she was gonna do that?' She fought herself, shaking her head as she rushed along the sides of the troop to keep careful tabs on each members, matching the actions of the younger males, each step drawing them closer to the upper reaches of the forest, and their new grounds. Even with part of her mission finished, the she-ape couldn't help but look back, knowing full well that out there, her aunt could be...

'Nah! Kala's too stubborn to go out that easily. Sure, I ain't happy she took off like that, but to think she's...nah, she's fine. She's gonna be fine, but right now, I need to get the rest of these guys up the mountain. It shouldn't be too much further, now...' Pulling her eyes up, she eyed the canopies above, the gentle slope of the cliffsides almost acting like a path in its own right as it was true; parted vines and twisted trunks of trees gave heed to their closing distance to the safety of their new home, a relief she really needed right now.

Kerchak made it clear that movement, flexibility, all of that, was key to making sure the troop survived. Even with this current, how do you say...situation, they were in right now -

-'BECAUSE OF TARZAN', her mind reminded her bitterly, though she was quick to push the thought out of her mind, the sensation of such negative emotions souring her mood-

-, there was the understanding that this was sort of inevitable, right? So really, Terk considered in the back of her mind, it was just happening a bit sooner than they thought it would, so it didn't make a huge difference, did it? The younger apes didn't seem to think so as, despite the terrible weather, the thunder, the lightning, the hasty march up the mountain, they still played, tumbling through the puddles and leaves they managed to stumble upon whilst also remaining close to their mother. It almost made this whole thing a little okay, seeing the little tikes still managing to have fun with all of this that was going on, that maybe...things weren't that bad.

But she knew she was just deluding herself.

Things were bad. Kala was missing, Kerchak and the rest of the big guys were off fightin' the men, their home isn't safe so they had to move, Tarzan is gone and he might have definitely been at least a little at fault for showing the humans where they were...it was just...a lot. Sighing, she took notice of the younger males, gesturing to her as some of the older she-apes gathered up the children for one last bout, over a cliffside where they were sure their new home awaited them. She was supposed to be excited, wasn't she?

She had done it, she'd...gotten the troop here in one piece, and all that was left to do was to wait for Kerchak, Kala, and the others to get back.

That was all.

Yet...there it was again. That...feeling, that weary, terrible fear that she felt shouldn't have been there. Why should she be afraid? Kerchak and the others were some of the strongest of their group (barring yours truly, of course), they would be fine, wouldn't they? Kala, too, with her stubbornness, her resourcefulness, she would be too...that is, she really wanted to believe that they would.

No, they would! She was stupid to think otherwise, wasn't she? There was no use worrying about them.

No, no...everything would be fine, she thought, rushing to aid the other, older apes that couldn't move as quickly, putting her mind on just finishing her mission...though the feeling, that fear, didn't leave.

It lingered, right behind her mind, blending into the noise of the storm.

- (Elsewhere, same time) -

For all intents and purposes, one should have known that the men wouldn't have been above using dirty tricks. If anything, the he-ape figured as the first trap went off, and one of his own opened their mouth to scream, a desperate sound that rang in his mind as the world came to a stand-still, this was rather clever on their part. Of course they would need their trinkets and cheap parlor tricks to even contend with the power of the kind, otherwise, the old beast mused, this would have been too easy.

Yet, he thought with an air of understanding and duress, that wasn't how things would go for them, despite him hoping that this would have been as simple as just scaring them off...but it didn't look like that would be how things turned out.

No.

Things were already off to a rather poor start.

Just quickly as the first ape had been hit, loosing their footing in the thick overgrowth, the next did as well, an identical sound and an equally as broken noise scarred the place between his temples. It was becoming harder to even pinpoint who was standing beside him anymore, the apes flanking his left and right just as uneasy and, dare he say it, afraid as he was. Perhaps it would have helped if they could see what had caught the others, that maybe they could avoid them, but even that was difficult.

The low light, the rain, the noise, all of it was disorienting, and the men seemed to take advantage of that. Despite this, he thought with reservation, he wouldn't bested that easily.

Not without a fight at the very least.

"Nazebi! Masamba! Watch your feet! They've placed something on the ground that is catching us, so warn the others! They must know if were are to have a chance at this!" The alpha warned, and quickly, the two beside him nodded, splitting from his side, though their eyes didn't leave the dirt.

They scanned carefully, navigating the brush to find their brothers, each doing their best to warn those that had yet to fall as Clayton's forces took advantage of their confusion. In fact, the large male noticed in their haste, bushes rustled to his left and right where he had the inkling that some of Clayton's lot rested. He could hear them, muttering amongst themselves as they began to lift their heads above the foliage, something that Kerchak could take advantage of as he towered over it. Wasting no time, he pulled back a single, great hand, rearing his strength as just as the two made a lurch towards the great ape. However, what they didn't intend to happen was that he'd be ready, swiping at the men with every bit of strength that he could muster, taking the net into his powerful fists and yanking it from the man's hands. The second, catching wind of the turning tide, tried to back off, pulling his friend out of the way as they readied their weapons, small daggers that, as far as Kerchak could tell, weren't really meant to kill...but they did look primed to hurt what they could.

And he was sure enough slashes with those would be enough to take even him down...something that he couldn't afford to let happen no matter what.

Not when their trooped counted on him.

This time, it was them that made the first move, swiping haphazardly at this bulking arms, though they just managed to miss him. Their serrated edges didn't look to be particularly merciful, he thought, facing their attempts again and again, as he tried to get a bit of distance between them.

"Oi, get 'em, will ya! It's just a fuckin' gorilla, cut 'im up! Go on!" One of them, a burly, mustached man, shouted over the downpour, and Kerchak couldn't exactly understand what he'd been saying, he got the idea when the other, a skinnier, wily fellow, appearing much younger and far more frail than the first, took another stab at him, jamming the knife, thankfully, into the idle space between him and the men. It was fortunate that the younger didn't' seem particularly skilled, proving to be easier to subdue as the great ape took this chance to smack the knife out of the younger man's hands.

There was a paling moment in the man's face as his weapon was knocked from his shaky fist, and just as quickly, he looked to have lost just about every bit of courage that had racked his thin body, stepping back with wide, bulging eyes as if considering running right then and there.

"Not so brave without your little trinket, are you?" The greater beast spat, though to the man, it was only grunts and pushes of air between his taut, pursed lips, bared fangs glistening in the wind and distant lightning.

That was right, he thought as he sized up the younger man, swiping him away as the first came in again, his own face appearing to have been taken aback by Kerchak's action, but he thought in the midst of it, as he met the man's inferior strength with his own.

These men, these...humans, always thought that they were so smart, so clever, so...entitled to break and destroy whatever they saw fit. That's what they all thought, the great ape growled in his mind, ripping the net from the man, peeling away his weapon with another great swing of his arm, a matching action to the other, younger apes that had joined him in the defense of their troop, their family. Staring down the older man, he didn't need to understand or speak a word of the human's strange tongue for these weaker creatures to read what laid behind his eyes.

Anger. Disgust. Fear. Indignation...wrapped into one glint of his eye, the way he stared down into the smaller man's own, and he didn't feel himself stop his own rage from manifesting in his very bones, rippling through his muscles as he pushed him away, tossing the man haphazardly into the brush and foliage with a surprisingly restrained hand. Despite his hate for these things, he thought with reserve, he wasn't about to stoop to their level.

He wouldn't kill what couldn't defend itself. He wouldn't hurt the weak...and that was what they were. Without their tools, Kerchak huffed with a turn away from those two, focusing his attention on another, readying himself to fight once again, they'd be nothing.

Yet, just as quickly as he'd thought his, he felt something bite into his shoulder, a blistering pain that sent to massive beast thrashing against the weight upon his back, throwing off what felt like arms wrapped around his neck as whoever was there tried to stay there. However, his strength was enough to shake the assailant from his back, and with them, the knife was yanked carelessly from his shoulder, eliciting another pained grunt from Kerchak. Whipping around to met his attacker, he supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised to meet Clayton's eyes, black, beady eyes pin-pricks in the dark that surrounded them. It had only just occurred to him that night would be falling soon enough, though in his defense, it was harder to tell when it was storming like this, and moreover, when chaos took over the breadth of his attention. Reaching up, his hand, stained with dirt and muck, he swept over his shoulder, and wasn't shocked to find his palm streaked with dark red stains, blood that, in their pouring rain, began wash away.

But Clayton wasn't done.

Even in the dark, Kerchak could see his grin, ashen teeth glimmering just as dangerously as his eyes did, and even now, watching his form come to a full stand after he'd been flung from the ape's back, the former couldn't help but notice it...that strange, in-human look that rested deep within the black pools of his eyes. He could see it, the inhumanity, the brutality, the thirst for violence, that radiated from man, earning from him a rush of caution from Kerchak as reared his stance as well, standing at least a full head over Clayton, though that didn't seem to bother the man too much. In fact, it only seemed to excite him as he gripped his knife harder, tensing his muscles as if readying himself to rush him again.

And that was just what he did.

Pulsing forward, the man was surprisingly agile, weaving out of Kerchak's grip with another swipe of his knife, his fear appearing non-existent as he made strategic strikes at certain parts of the great ape's body. Some on his arms, a few on his legs, a couple on his back, too, though the former made a motion to grip Clayton's arm, throttling him back as Kerchak could feel it, the blood seeping from the accruing wounds, dripping into his fur and on the ground as he tried to a grasp of his movements. The man, however, didn't seem to be tiring, recovering quickly from Kerchak's attempts to defend himself, doubling back just as quickly and overtaking the ape's efforts. Around him, too, many of his troop members seemed to be having much of the same issue as, even with their superior strength, they were outmatched by the sheer number of men...and their weapons. It was hard to tell, but it sounded as though, despite his efforts to warn them, more traps seemed to be going off; one-by-one, they collapsed to the ground, lost to the storm and foliage as the great ape watched nets be thrown high into the air over what he could only assume were the other apes.

How many, he couldn't know, he couldn't tell.

But slowly, surely, there were less of them by his side, though there were still some that fought vigorously, successfully dodging and weaving the traps and their attempts to capture them.

However, perhaps that would work against them in the end.

Amongst Clayton's numbers, the men didn't appear to have the patience to keep this going much longer, and as one of his own, a large, beast of an ape, Mbazi, made short work of several of them, barreling through them left and right. It didn't surprise him, either, knowing full well of the power and endurance that young one had was enough for him to think that maybe, just maybe, they could stand a fighting chance. Two, three, four, five; they couldn't get a hold on him as he pushed them to the ground, tossing them away left and right as a child would hapless ragdolls. Amongst others, several of the younger males were putting up a rather good fight, enough that even the hunters found themselves scrambling to get a good footing against them. Mbazi didn't waste anytime rounding about the men, almost appearing to taunt them as he closed in on one of them. Another young man, much like the bug-eyed sort that had encountered just a few minutes prior. Just as jittery, just a jumpy, though this time, Kerchak noticed with sinking feeling in his gut...this one held a gun instead.

Really, looking back, maybe that should have worried him. Perhaps just the idea of one of his own being killed in that way should have been enough to make him try harder to fight, to tell him to get away.

If he'd thought that he would have been shot, perhaps he would have.

It happened just like that.

A crackling explosion rang out through the wood, the trees, the rain, echoing like hollow voices as the smell of smoke filled the air, and with it, the stench of blood. It was surreal, watching Mbazi's body fall over, a dull, broken thud that quieted the fighting for a full breath as each one of them, ape and man alike, went still, shocked .

Kerchak was surprised to find his voice, though it didn't boom and ring the way it usually did. No, it felt as though every bit of conviction had slipped away as he watched the place where the younger ape's body had landed, and opening his mouth, he wasn't sure he could find the words to speak.

"M...Mbazi?" The older ape uttered quietly, the others in his troop quaking at the realization that he was...dead.

One of their own was...dead.

They killed...Mbazi.

They...how dare they?

HOW DARE THEY?

"NO!" Kerchak screamed out, turning away from Mbazi's body to face the mounting danger of Clayton's own blade, still in-hand even as the great ape momentarily forgot himself, throwing caution to the wind with each motion he made towards the hunter. This same energy was matched amongst the other apes, each doing what they could to fight them as well, though the odds were clearly not in their favor. The death of Mbazi, though empowering through their anger, didn't change the fact that they were still sorely outmatched, with their six remaining apes (most of which were captured and subdued) contending with Clayton's thirteen, saves for the seven or so that they'd managed to take down. But it didn't matter; their efforts were met with equal parts aggression as Clayton began to wear at the ape's defenses, Kerchak himself growing tired and weary from exerting effort to keep pace with his skilled, effortless movements.

But he kept pushing.

Pushing harder and harder, fighting as much as he could to do what he could to turn the tides. Clayton dodged, Kerchak followed. Clayton swiped at him, the great ape bit at the hand, stomping with great force over to the man, using his sheer size as a weapon on its own. Just as he had before with the young man, he made a motion to take the knife from the hunter's grip, grasping Clayton's soaked sleeve and forcing it from his hand, the thick blade thudding dully upon the soil. Kerchak felt his great heart heave angrily in his chest, each thundering breath paired with unkempt aggression that even he was having issue containing.

He'd had enough of this.

Throwing the man from him, watching as he collided with the ground, the great ape stood over him, stout form closing the distance with the man as Clayton pulled away, all the while Kerchak uttered to himself, a low grumble to ears of man, but to him, impassioned words he knew he couldn't understand.

"You come here, to our home...you come upon our soil, with your man-tricks and violence...but without them, without any of these..." Eying the man's knife, he knocked it way, thrown further in the undergrowth as he continued his speech, dark, amber eyes glinting with defiance.

"...frivolous things...you'd be nothing. No...no, you are nothing. Nothing but weak men, weak humans...nothing." With one last huff, he stared at Clayton for a moment longer before starting for him again, however, just as he had, he heard it, a distant crashing in the woods that was edging closer and closer to where they were. It was in that moment that he took his eyes from the hunter, lifting his face to sniff the air as the scent felt...familiar. Giving it a long, drawing breath, he felt his heart lurch as his mind put a face to the smell.

"K-Kala?!" Whipping around to meet the sound, the desperate notion of her being there the one thing he hoped for as his eyes met where the noise was coming from.

Staring at it, he blinked, silent as he watched her run, parting branches, vines, and all manner of foliage to do so, and by the looks of it, and to his horror...straight towards them. She had to have noticed them from afar, hearing the commotion far before they heard her; the others seemed just as shocked as him to see her, most twisting their heads just the same to catch a glimpse of the she-ape doing exactly what it was that he didn't want her to: throwing herself into danger.

What rose in his throat as fear turned very quickly to anger.

Anger at both Kala...and Terk.

Why couldn't she just listen to him for once? Was it too much to ask that she just let him fight, that she stop being so desperate to throw herself into harm's way? And what about Terk? Couldn't she take care of just one ape? He knew that he placed a lot on her, but this was something that he desperately had hoped that she could handle.

Was he asking for too much for the two of them to just...do what he said?

WAS IT?

"Kerchak! KERCHAK!" She shouted over the noise, her melodic voice raised in panic and she made a bee-line to where he was, and though he was sure she thought she was there to help, he felt his heart lurch violently in his chest, an uneven thrum for the growing panic that rose within him.

'No, no, no! Stay away - ' He thought, turning fully away from Clayton in a bid to wave her down, to gesture for her to get as far as she could from this fight.

That was all that mattered to him right now, you know?

He just wanted to protect her...but he missed what was going on right behind him.

He was so focused on her, that he didn't even hear Clayton shift on the ground behind him.

He was so distracted that he didn't even hear him cock his gun.

How could he have been so negligent?

Kala seemed to notice it first, her eyes going wide and face paling as she pointed behind him, voice lost to the rain, voice lost to the chaos.

"KERCHAK! Look behind you - " He heard her scream, his own expression dropping as he heard it.

It was almost too quiet to pick up...just barely audible over the sounds of fighting, rain, and thunder. But it was unmistakable...the click of the catridge of a weapon he didn't know the name of, but he knew what it could do, he'd seen it happen to Mbazi not even ten minutes ago. Frozen, eyes wide, he wasn't sure what his body was doing, propelled by instinct, by fear, as he knew full well what would greet him if he turned around, what would meet him if he did...but that didn't stop him. Maybe it was the sense that it would have felt better to see it first before the shot went off, so he could make sure that was the kind of danger he was in, you know?

Better to know what killed you rather than to be taken by surprise, right?

But it didn't make it any easier, seeing the dark eyes of the weapon in that man's hands, twin eyes staring blankly at him as the human's finger rested on the trigger. It was pointed at him, idle, taunting, as if deciding whether or not Kerchak was worthy of being killed, whether he was worth the effort, but he knew very well what it would choose.

So this was where it would end?

In the middle of the jungle? Another prize for what would surely be many to this man?

That was it?

Surely he expected more, he knew he had to go someday, but...without her? Without having made amends? Without...without...ah. He couldn't quite name everything that he knew was left to do, just that there was. He wasn't finished yet, he...didn't want to go. Not here, not like this, not by his hand.

He didn't want to die.

But he couldn't get there fast enough to take the thing from him, not with it's burning mouth pointed right at his head.

Just as it would have been for Mbazi.

And in an instant, he was..gone.

He could hear Kala screaming, shouting at him, but he couldn't quite make it out. None of her words were really making sense, but more than that, there was something so...inhuman about the way Clayton looked through all of it. Ironic coming from him, he was sure, but that's all that he could think. That look of smugness, coy, arrogant...Kerchak couldn't help but wonder how their kind could be this way? Take so much visceral, cardinal joy in seeing others suffer, taking everything that they hand and loved in the process and still sleep at night.

It was unreal.

But he wouldn't have to wonder about it for too long now.

Not when he could see Clayton pulling the trigger back, it's crackling motion, the dreadful seconds, no, milliseconds, that edged each moment worse than the possibility that he might die. Closing his eyes, he wondered if it would hurt, whether his brain and skull would be scattered across the forest floor, leaving him unrecognizable. If Kala would only remember this, recalling just his face being blown away...or would she remember what he was before? Would the troop come down to see him like that? Undignified, a corpse, left by the hand of man?

He wasn't sure of any of it. He wasn't so sure he wanted to, anyway.

Taking a breath, he waited for it, the end.

And waited...an eternity it felt like.

But he wouldn't have to wait long.

"MOVE!" Kerchak snapped his eyes open as he felt his world shift, turned as he felt Kala push his out of the way of the gun, ramming headlong into him with every bit of force that she could muster. The two of them heard the gun go off, and for what it was worth, it had missed his head, thankfully. But an eruption from his shoulder, a searing, burning, lashing tongue burst upon his flesh in that split second afterward, earning pained grunt from him, and from Kala, he heard much the same, a smaller noise, but no doubt a pained one, whispered from her as the two tried to get their bearings. Looking to her, the worst had come to pass; she was here, caught in the middle of all of this...but more than that, he figured out very quickly and with horror, was that not even moments into this, she'd already managed to get hurt. He cupped her cheek where thin streaks of blood trickled,

"KALA! Kala, you're - " Opening her eyes, she smiled at him, wiping where her injury had come as thankfully she only seemed to have been grazed by the spraying bullets, and though she winced a bit at the touch of her own hand, she didn't waver.

"Fine. I'm fine, but we need to - " Just as quickly, the two of them managed to get to their feet, rushing to stop Clayton from reloading as he'd made it to his feet, but Kerchak had almost forgotten his own injury, a fair bit of his shoulder taken clean off in the blast. In her haste, Kala had nearly forgotten to look back, taking a few swings at the hunter's gun in a bid to knock it from his hands. Though, when she noticed that the male ape wasn't at her side, she chanced a slight look back, taking note of his torn flesh were smoking pellets from the shotgun had eaten at his shoulder.

"Oh my god, Kerchak, you're - " She didn't get the chance to finish, the great ape cutting in when she'd begun speaking.

"Fine. I'm fine, just a little bruised up. Nothing that time won't...heal." He mirrored her own words, giving her a coy smile that, thought she didn't return it, almost made her look relaxed. The moment didn't last, however, with Clayton, managing, in the time that they'd taken to speak to each other, to reload his gun, clicking the barrel back in place as he prepared another shot. Noticing this, the great ape lunged forward, taking in an unsteady breath with each step he took, the very act of moving, of putting pressure on his bad arm, making him wish to stop moving then and there, but he couldn't afford to stop now, not when someone that he loved was right in the line of danger. Using his good arm, he made a grab for Clayton's weapon, but the man, having spared his breath and strength in the midst of Kala and Kerchak's conversation, almost seemed to have regained much of his energy from before. In fact, the notion of having two prizes appeared to invigorate him, making it even harder to get a hold on him.

'Damn it! Just...keep...STILL!' He shouted angrily within the confines of his mind, his stamina running critically low, yet still, he had to push. He had to fight, he didn't have a choice; with so few of their own remaining, with many of the last apes looking just as spent as he did, he honestly didn't know how long they'd be able to keep this up. But Kala herself didn't seem to be letting up; her movements were fluid, unyielding, as she tried to close the distance with Clayton.

Making a turn for his legs, she swept her great arm at them, tripping the hunter. His gun tumbled out of view, a ways into the brush that compelled him to scramble after it. In that way, it almost seemed as though he were running away, a thought that Kala shared as she turned to Kerchak, beckoning him to follow suit.

"Come on! I think I've nearly got him now! If we could just get him in one of those nets, then we might be able to stop him!" She shouted back, but before Kerchak could answer back, she'd already bolted after him, disappearing from view. The male ape almost followed behind her, his intentions aligning with her own as he figured putting a stop to Clayton would tear apart the resolve of the others, but something stopped him, a core memory that made his muscles run cold from the thought.

'Wait...wait, I never told her about the - ' Just as the thought had crossed his mind, he heard it.

The sound of metal crunching bone...and Kala's horrid scream thereafter.

She'd been caught by a trap.

He hardly had to think about it, rushing into the foliage that surely obscured his view. He knew he was just a susceptible to running headlong into a trap himself, that doing so would essentially be a death trap, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered but getting to Kala, to trying to help her, to getting her out of this mess, and that was just what he intended to do. But by the time he'd made there, his bad arm limp and useless at his side, they'd already begun to move on her. He couldn't understand it, the words that Clayton was saying in their strange man-speak, but with his pointing to Kala, and the gesturing to the other humans with nets and wires in their hands, it didn't take much for him to figure out what they wanted.

They were going to take her, too.

"No...NO, NO, NO - " He'd just reared up to charge them, using every bit of his remaining strength to cross the length of the forest to get to them, using his remaining good arm for support as he made an effort to free her.

He could take them. He could...he could get her out of here, get the rest of his troop out of here, too. He wouldn't lose her, not here, not now. He couldn't...he couldn't lose her, too.

He refused to.

"KALA!" He trained his eyes only on her, and then, to her leg, splinters of flesh and bone through delicate tissue that bubbled with blood and viscera, a sight he never wanted to hail from her. How could he have not thought to tell her? How could he have been so stupid?! Just one fuck up after another, one loss followed by others; it was almost too much to bear. Kerchak hardly paid attention to the hunters, each gearing up for a fight as he got ever closer, and nor did he notice Clayton raise his gun, cocking it back again.

He didn't notice it.

As always, he wasn't paying attention.

It didn't register in his mind that he'd been shot a second time, that is, until he felt his world turn again, the great beast falling gracelessly forward into the mud as his left leg buckled from his own weight. The gorilla only understood, after a moment or so, that a good portion of his leg was just...gone, blown out from the knee, Clayton's gun the smoking reminder of why it had happened.

'Wait, what...what happened? My leg...it's...' Looking down at it, Kerchak could only stare numbly as the pain hadn't reached him yet. No, he could only look forward, forward as Kala looked back at him, her eyes bleeding with grief and fear and pain with each motion they made to tightened her prison of twine and rope. He couldn't even hear her, either, even though he could see her mouth moving.

"Ka...la?" He whispered, feeling faint, the bloodloss beginning to get to him, but just as much, his mind tried to fight it, desperate to pull against the exhaustion that was taking hold, but it was no use. He knew he wouldn't be conscious for very long, not with the sort of injuries that he'd sustained, but he tried...he really did. Reaching out, he only got a glimpse of her before she was dragged off, pulled from his sight and into the unknown where he couldn't reach her.

Before the silence and storm could fill his senses, he caught just one more look of Clayton, his wily, cruel grin an echo behind his eyes he couldn't forget.

And just as quickly, as his dark visage faded from view, Kerchak felt his eyes close, and he was greeted by vacant dreams.

- (Same place, same time) -

Kala's voice was becoming hoarse, broken from strain and agonizing pain she couldn't relieve. Even with her leg released from the trap, it didn't mend the broken bones and torn flesh that puckered painfully beneath her ripped skin. Her captors weren't exactly gentle, either, pulling her crudely along the forest floor, taking little consideration for her physical needs...not that she'd expected them to. Much the same could be seen for the others of her troop that had been taken away, six if she couldn't correctly, seven if she counted herself.

She felt sick by the notion, that each of them would be taken away, not knowing what might happen to them.

Where were they going? Why were they being taken? What would happen to the troop? Would they be able to come back?

What would happen to Kerchak?

Turning her head, she noticed a familiar change in the forest, the distant sound of churning sea sounding not-so-distant as salty water filled her nose, and it wasn't long after that that she felt the soil of the jungle shift to parted sand. They were at the coast now, and when they dropped the end of her bag, the hunters making their way to secured boats at the edge of the coast, she only needed to gaze at the massive ship, far off in turning waves, to understand...that was where they were going.

Why? She didn't know. For how long? She couldn't guess.

She only knew, intuitively, that was where they were going.

The others around her, young males that had joined Kerchak, looked just as perplexed, looked just as scared. One of them, Kijani, was closest to her, still with fear and injury, a number of slashes to his arms and legs leaving him fur tinged a dark grey. It made her sick, seeing someone so young, so inexperienced, thrown into something like this. Even at the distance, she could hear it, his rapid breathing denoting the adrenaline that rushed through his blood. She understood it, felt it, too, and with the little energy that she had, she could, at the very least, try to ease his anxiety.

"Kijani...it's...it's going to be okay. I promise." She called out softly with a knowing smile, reaching through the holes of her own net to touch the sand closest to him, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to get to him...but she wanted to try anyway. Kijani turned to her, his stunning, green eyes like cut emeralds in the waning light, and though he remained still for a moment, shadows of doubt flickering in his eyes, she watched him reach out all the same, returning a smile to her. It was brief moment, though, with the hunters, now speaking amongst themselves in their strange tongue, pulling them further apart before hauling them each of the apes into their boats, with Kala relegated to one of her own, with Clayton at the helm.

The seat in ship was hard and wet, the she-ape crying out as her leg, limp and worn, rested bent and uncomfortable beneath her, and despite her attempts to correct it, she couldn't really shift her weight at all. Giving up, she resigned herself to just trying to rest, closing her eyes to the drifting sea as she heard one of them shout, then a collection of voices, too. It was only moments later that they were off, sent into the twisting ocean as the storm raged on. Yet even so, with her eyes plastered firmly to the inner seams of the boat, and though she couldn't see, she knew she was getting further and further away from the shore...further and further away from home.

The though of it made her sick, knowing that maybe...just maybe...she would never see home again. That they would be taken far, far away, out into the endless blue...and never be able to return.

She was sure the young males that had been taken alongside her felt much the same thing.

That fear, that apprehension...that regret.

Maybe she should have just listened.

Maybe if she'd just stayed put, then maybe...maybe she wouldn't have gotten caught. Maybe Kerchak wouldn't have been distracted.

Maybe.

She didn't know.

She figured it didn't matter now.

Closing her eyes, she tried to close it out, the lingering fear that thrummed violently in her chest at the thought, but she knew she couldn't hide from it.

This would be the last time that she would ever be seen again.