((This thread takes place after What Can Be Found if you Trust the Gods))
Will had poured out of the Bowl of Embers just like sparks from an overturned brazier.
Baoht Zuqqa Roh, therefore, walked the sands. The sun did not burn as hot this far north, and his scales cooled. He clawed at his forearms in distaste, grinding his jaw and letting his pointed teeth click. The sun drakes noticed that their master had paused and turned, eight eyes glowing from faces the color of dust, to await his instruction. Their passive submission annoyed him -- they did not actively fear him -- and he exhaled a growl that burned the air like the breath of a molten fissure. The sun drakes turned more fully towards him, and their heads dipped, and their maws closed. Baoht Zuqqa Roh dropped down into a crouch and grunted instruction in a furious tone, gesturing, and the beasts followed his motions, obedient, quivering.
When Baoht Zuqqa Roh stood, two of the drakes departed, moving fast in two different directions. The others remained, eager for instruction, growing more submissive each instant he withheld it.
"Roh!" A grating voice shook through the stones. Baoht Zuqqa Roh turned to look behind him, the air roiling around him, and glared at the other Amal'jaa coming past the rocks behind him. A tracker, carrying a spear in one hand and a staff of calling in the other. This new Amal'jaa's scales did not glint as brightly, as though he were adorned in shale, or the tempering had left him ashen. The tracker raised his blunted claws. "Roh, word for Zan'rak!"
Baoht Zuqqa Roh shook. A twitch flowed outward from his spine, hot through his shoulders and arms and belly, and he belched volcanic breath. "Am I called for?" The wood of his bow thrummed as it shook in his hand.
"Shan'Gai Chah sends these words: You are to-"
"His words? Now? Send Shan'Gai Chah a message for me!" Baoht Zuqqa Roh lifted his bow and knocked a two-meter metal shaft into it, lifting it and letting it go without giving the tracker a chance to flinch. It was not a glancing shot; the arrow stuck in the Amal'jaa's chest and punctured one of its lungs, the dusty bundle of unpolished scales dropping on its side in the dirt. Bahot Zuqqa Roh shook his bow at the tracker. "Drag yourself back to Shan'Gai Chah and deliver that before you expire, or die a failure!" It was a fitting gesture. Baoht Zuqqa Roh would not deserve his title as the Scorpion's Tale if he did not occasionally sting.
The sound of a sun drake's call tore Baoht Zuqqa Roh's attention from his victim, drawing his gaze towards a rocky outcropping north of him. The beast was small and distant, but his sharp eyes could see its gaze directed still further northward. The sun drake shouted again, and Baoht Zuqqa Roh tossed his head back to let a very similar shout out himself. The two drakes at his feet responded, roaring at the sky, and moments later the fourth -- which had one southward -- called out as well. Turning his bow in his hands, Baoht Zuqqa Roh growled and grunted at the drakes before him, and they ran to join the northmost of them.
Baoht Zuqqa Roh took another metal shaft and set in against the string of his massive bow, and his teeth clicked. "Not even Shan'Gai Chah has the right to interrupt a hunt he himself requested. Especially once the hunter has the scent of their prey." As he took his first stop forward, he exhaled a hot breath, and it stirred a wind that wrapped around him soundlessly. His scent was trapped by it, concealed from the nose of his quarry. His footsteps made no sound. He lowered himself and crept at a running pace northward, his drakes running ahead of him.
*
The green-haired girl pointed out the Ourobon. She smacked Thal on the arm to get his attention. "I found one. There!" She pointed more emphatically. Her clothes by this point had degenerated into little more than red threads that wrapped her shoulders, torso and hips, as though simply decoration for her burned away chest and the burnt hole through her back. The cloth tied around her neck did not perfectly conceal the wound sliced in her neck. The thin, dark corpse bounced in the knee-deep water and pointed at the Ourobon as though it was very hungry. Really, she was just doing her best to help Thal hunt.
When she turned to look back at the Ourobon in the shallows, her gaze lifted to the sand-drake on the rocks, several hundred meters south of them and staring right at her. Her ears pitched back, and she looked vaguely troubled, though she knew that sand drakes rarely attacked full-grown Miqo'te in the wild. Then it roared, shouting at the sky above it like a wolf calling to its pack. And it was answered by others, an echoing series of calls throughout the southward rocks.
Will had poured out of the Bowl of Embers just like sparks from an overturned brazier.
Baoht Zuqqa Roh, therefore, walked the sands. The sun did not burn as hot this far north, and his scales cooled. He clawed at his forearms in distaste, grinding his jaw and letting his pointed teeth click. The sun drakes noticed that their master had paused and turned, eight eyes glowing from faces the color of dust, to await his instruction. Their passive submission annoyed him -- they did not actively fear him -- and he exhaled a growl that burned the air like the breath of a molten fissure. The sun drakes turned more fully towards him, and their heads dipped, and their maws closed. Baoht Zuqqa Roh dropped down into a crouch and grunted instruction in a furious tone, gesturing, and the beasts followed his motions, obedient, quivering.
When Baoht Zuqqa Roh stood, two of the drakes departed, moving fast in two different directions. The others remained, eager for instruction, growing more submissive each instant he withheld it.
"Roh!" A grating voice shook through the stones. Baoht Zuqqa Roh turned to look behind him, the air roiling around him, and glared at the other Amal'jaa coming past the rocks behind him. A tracker, carrying a spear in one hand and a staff of calling in the other. This new Amal'jaa's scales did not glint as brightly, as though he were adorned in shale, or the tempering had left him ashen. The tracker raised his blunted claws. "Roh, word for Zan'rak!"
Baoht Zuqqa Roh shook. A twitch flowed outward from his spine, hot through his shoulders and arms and belly, and he belched volcanic breath. "Am I called for?" The wood of his bow thrummed as it shook in his hand.
"Shan'Gai Chah sends these words: You are to-"
"His words? Now? Send Shan'Gai Chah a message for me!" Baoht Zuqqa Roh lifted his bow and knocked a two-meter metal shaft into it, lifting it and letting it go without giving the tracker a chance to flinch. It was not a glancing shot; the arrow stuck in the Amal'jaa's chest and punctured one of its lungs, the dusty bundle of unpolished scales dropping on its side in the dirt. Bahot Zuqqa Roh shook his bow at the tracker. "Drag yourself back to Shan'Gai Chah and deliver that before you expire, or die a failure!" It was a fitting gesture. Baoht Zuqqa Roh would not deserve his title as the Scorpion's Tale if he did not occasionally sting.
The sound of a sun drake's call tore Baoht Zuqqa Roh's attention from his victim, drawing his gaze towards a rocky outcropping north of him. The beast was small and distant, but his sharp eyes could see its gaze directed still further northward. The sun drake shouted again, and Baoht Zuqqa Roh tossed his head back to let a very similar shout out himself. The two drakes at his feet responded, roaring at the sky, and moments later the fourth -- which had one southward -- called out as well. Turning his bow in his hands, Baoht Zuqqa Roh growled and grunted at the drakes before him, and they ran to join the northmost of them.
Baoht Zuqqa Roh took another metal shaft and set in against the string of his massive bow, and his teeth clicked. "Not even Shan'Gai Chah has the right to interrupt a hunt he himself requested. Especially once the hunter has the scent of their prey." As he took his first stop forward, he exhaled a hot breath, and it stirred a wind that wrapped around him soundlessly. His scent was trapped by it, concealed from the nose of his quarry. His footsteps made no sound. He lowered himself and crept at a running pace northward, his drakes running ahead of him.
*
The green-haired girl pointed out the Ourobon. She smacked Thal on the arm to get his attention. "I found one. There!" She pointed more emphatically. Her clothes by this point had degenerated into little more than red threads that wrapped her shoulders, torso and hips, as though simply decoration for her burned away chest and the burnt hole through her back. The cloth tied around her neck did not perfectly conceal the wound sliced in her neck. The thin, dark corpse bounced in the knee-deep water and pointed at the Ourobon as though it was very hungry. Really, she was just doing her best to help Thal hunt.
When she turned to look back at the Ourobon in the shallows, her gaze lifted to the sand-drake on the rocks, several hundred meters south of them and staring right at her. Her ears pitched back, and she looked vaguely troubled, though she knew that sand drakes rarely attacked full-grown Miqo'te in the wild. Then it roared, shouting at the sky above it like a wolf calling to its pack. And it was answered by others, an echoing series of calls throughout the southward rocks.
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