[TRANCE AU] Hoofing It [Harrison x Rep]

[Toshihiko Two]

against the wall

He gave his flank a sullen lick, even though he knew he was better off letting the poultice do its work. After Anjor got struck down, it was him and the three other young soldiers, and that had gone to h'stkuk real fast.

There must have been a retreat called, but it had never gotten far enough up the line, and by that time it was just him stranded in hostile territory. So he did himself a favor and appointed himself as the highest ranking officer. Not that thinking for yourself was a much-encouraged facet of the training. Anyone with a more free-thinking leaning ended up in metalworking. His crafting attempts, just like his fighting technique, had always been crude. So he'd been shunted to the bottom of the food chain, and bad had only gotten worse.

The overhanging rock was slanted steep enough to offer some shelter. He wasn't stupid enough to make a fire, and going right back into Famine's new territory wasn't the best option. If he circled West, there might still be some openings or hold outs. It was the best he could hope for.  

[Baneful]

against the wall

Rep fought, that was a given, as a horseman of War it ran in his very blood, the thudding of his heart a relentless drumbeat that drove him ever onwards. His entire body was a weapon, all sinew talons and twisted rage. He fought not only because it was his job but because he felt he had something to prove. He was worthy and was tired of being dismissed by his family because of his gender and lineage, told that perhaps he should stick to crafting, to directing the fire in his veins towards simpler things, towards scouting and patrolling, professions which did not put him on the battlefield where others would rely on him.

Against all advice to the contrary, he persisted and that was how today he found himself in this ******** no win scenario, with the other soldiers who had been with him ******** gone or dead. He'd survived not because of skill or anything else he could have bragged about but sheer luck, nothing more significant than the fact a few swipes had hit other more important people than him. He was fine or at least the wounds were superficial and would heal, but he was alone and any soldier worth his salt knew that to be alone in enemy territory was to be the walking dead. The only exception were chieftains and he doubted he would ever be one. He'd been ******** from the outset. Even if he went back now they would ask him what happened and no doubt blame him for the ********, tell him that it came down to him and his inexperience, that he should have stayed behind. They'd never let him out again.

He limped, mostly from exhaustion, moving away from the base camp rather than towards it and not even sure why. Famine were out here, chasing down the stragglers one at a time, he should have been afraid and yet he wasn't. Shame was more terrible than the unknown, the loss of his honour the most harrowing thing that could happen to him.

When he spotted the other horseman he was all but upon him. He was alone which meant it was almost certainly a trap and he was done for. It didn't matter than he was wounded. He lowered his axe and sighed heavily, grim that he wasn't even Famine, Death had stayed so reasonable up until negotiations fell apart, the elders of his own clan arguing for more and more, pushing the boundaries of what they would get away with, always chasing combat and conflict. They'd never have been happy with anything less than hostilities.

"Great." he said, not taking his intense blue eyes off of the other man.


 

[Toshihiko Two]

against the wall

Black blood shined on his hide, and at the noise Harrison spun. He lowered his head, ready to gore anything that came near him. He looked briefly at Rep's favored leg.

The other warrior hadn't slit his throat from behind, but from the feathers and paint he guessed he'd want to savor the fight.

Harrison's tail whipped back and forth. If there was anything his kind was prepared for, it was the end. He had a hundred rituals and chants to prepare for his own passing, but at the moment he didn't want to go calm. He'd never had a vision spirit quest. He just wanted to be back on friendly territory.

"I'll make you pay for every drop of blood," he growled through needled teeth. His features were more deer than horse, coat pitch-black, with a thick rope of a lion tail and a single wicked horn jutting from his head.  

[Baneful]

against the wall

Rep bristled, and as he did so his feathers puffed up, his wings mantling by his sides to make him look even larger and more intimidating than he did normally. His previously defeated posture melted away and he braced himself for a fight. He had been expecting smugness, the calm bravery of someone who knew that he had backup waiting in the trees, that he was merely a decoy. Everything about Harrison's posture said to Rep's most primitive instinct that what he had on his hands wasn't an ambush but a cornered animal.

He dropped to his hands and shifted even as he did so, rich red fur blossoming across his body. He stood before the other man as a tiger, his injured leg suddenly so much less crippling now that he was on four, his tail flicking behind him. His blue eyes didn't seem to change.

"All the same." he snarled. "Rrrrrr you so eagerrr to die? I didn't think that Death ********' carrrrred about an honourrrable death."

He made a low rumbling sound and paced in front of the other man, ears back, flashing the bright white dots behind them, stark against the black. "But I can give you one, sure as s**t I'll give you one." In War there were different traditional ways to greet other tribe members, Harrison had unwittingly stumbled upon one of them. An invitation to combat was sometimes tantamount to a hello. "Question is, it's just you and me. Is that what you want? Because it looks like I'll ********' win."  

[Toshihiko Two]

against the wall

"All Death is honoured. I'll say a prayer over yours."

Harrison matched the circling, mindful of where his flank was and the slope of the ground. If he could make it, he'd bolt, but the last thing he needed was this guy tracking his a**.

The other warrior was striking for a War clansman, and with his easy swagger and broad weapon. Given a choice, Harrison wouldn't have gone against him. Not in a fair fight, anyway.

All of a sudden, Harrison froze.

In the undergrowth there were the sounds of a distinctive, relegated march. Colony soldiers. He locked eyes with the other warrior, wary and no longer engaged in any kind of opening dance. His shoulders bunched, but his expression said We are both ********>  

[Baneful]

against the wall

Rep felt the tension build easily in his shoulders, prepared for a pounce, playing out the battle in his head before he moved. If he could bring back proof of this, he would be able to hold his head high, they didn't need to know it was a cheap shot on a wounded horseman, they could think he'd fought valiantly.

The marching caught his attention as readily as the other horseman and his whole posture changed. It was one thing to fight Death, they understood a fair fight, they understood the value of hand to hand combat. Famine didn't understand any of that, they knew only torture and brutality, he'd be pushed until he could handle no more and then they'd push him some more. He'd wish for death in the end, and right now well, maybe his wish had been granted early.

He moved, but the movement was slow and cautious and no longer aggressive, he moved to the side of the other horseman and lending him a shoulder, leaned against him, a silent statement of intention. He had no idea if he'd get it or if his need for vengeance would overwhelm any semblance of sense, but for Rep the gesture came easy, he was alone and that was a death sentence, right now what they both needed most was not to be.

 

[Toshihiko Two]

against the wall

Harrison responded in kind, the snarl shutting to a grimmer expression, and as Rep's aggression drained out of him Harrison moved to cover the leg he had just been considering targeting.

"Should have taken honour while we had the chance," he said, wary.
 

[Baneful]

against the wall

It had been close, too ******** close, but somehow they'd made it through. Famine always had the advantage of numbers and co-ordination, but they had combat prowess on their side, quite a bit of it it turned out. His former-opponent turned out - even injured - to be able to admirably cover his weaknesses and he quickly picked up on how to return the favour.

Beset from all sides they'd held out, and with the last soldier distracted, he'd gone for the jugular, finally leaving them on their own. This time he was injured, bleeding from a deep gash on his shoulder and back, but alive, both of them were alive and that was ******** important.

Alone he'd have died, that was for damn ******** certain. He owed the guy a life debt, and that was actually pretty ******** serious, he'd never owed anyone anything like it before, especially not someone from a clan he was supposed to think were all emotionless murderers with nothing redeemable about them.

He flopped to the ground, panting, turning away from the other man to lick his wound, leaving his neck exposed and vulnerable while he did so. "You still have that prayer for me?" he said grimly.  

[Toshihiko Two]

against the wall

The soldiers had been looking to incapacitate, not kill. They were always aiming to harvest live prey. It had been close.

But the fight had been good. More than good, sheol. He knew the order. The patterns behind attack, offense, parry, block. But moving alongside the other warrior had been a different level of pattern, all brutality and instinct, and somehow the organic and inorganic methods had formed a difficult to penetrate lockstep. The adrenaline made him shivery, running through his blood. He felt high and the pain felt faraway. It must have been close to what a trance felt like.

"You need one?" Harrison was too tired for formality. Moving slowly, he pushed aside Rep's muzzle with his own to get a look at the gash. "You don't need one," he said, giving it some irritable licks of his own.
 

[Baneful]

against the wall

Rep tensed at the lick, but it was pain reflex more than anything else, and he paused with his tongue comically between his teeth, staring for a moment before forging onwards and attempting to regain at least some semblance of normality and composure. It was not normal to lick the wounds of others in his clan, it was an offence to the pride of the recipient but right here and now he wasn't sure he actually minded.

"You fight good." he said dopily, and then felt very embarrassed about how awkward it sounded, it was a high compliment indeed in his clan. "I owe you." His tail was puffy and his pupils were large. "You don't... seem.."

He didn't seem like the others, and he couldn't even ******** tell why.