An innocent look of curiosity was drawn upon the hyur's face as the girl explained herself. He eyed her carefully as his thoughts wandered upon the truth that lay beyond her vague answer.
("Something important?")
He echoed to himself inquisitively with genuine wonder as to what that could have possibly been, or perhaps meant.
His eyes quickly scanned about the surrounding area, rolling over the green, dew-laden shrubbery and between the narrow, dividing trees that sheltered them, though he found nothing of interest - as he could have well predicted. Curiosity teased him as he considered inquiring further, though perhaps it was better not to distract themselves further as the others were hard at work, he thought. The hyur's sapphire eyes glided back to meet with Clover's gaze once more, choosing to merely smile reassuringly toward her in an effort to dismiss the girl's unmistakeable sense of guilt for indulging in her sudden impulse, innocent as he felt assured it had been.
"We should get back before the others begin to worry" he replied simply, waiting only for a nod of understanding from Clover before turning on his heels and leading the way forward with Clover following only two steps behind him.
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The horde of Ixal screeched loudly as they charged downhill toward the dazzled passengers. Though the distance may have granted the illusion that the travelers had some time to react, the reality of the situation proved to be a fickle ally. The significant stature of even the lesser Ixal meant that they, in addition to their long and powerful legs, were able to propel themselves forward and downhill with surprising speed. The massive claws that decorated their thickly-scaled feet dug deeply into the ground with ease, anchoring them firmly and offering them unparalleled balance and agility over the disadvantageous and uneven terrain. The group quickly subdivided as the Ixal selected their individual targets and bore down upon them with great determination, using their numbers in correlation with their surprise offensive to obstruct any and all opportunities that their opponents had available to resort to, be it retreat or rebellion.
It was then and without warning that a large, feathered arrow sliced through the brisk, morning air and crashed into the caravan's wooden frame with a loud 'thunk'; landing no more than six ilms before the lalafel whom had been hurrying to reach his equipment. The sudden commotion startled the pair of young chocobo greatly as they stirred and pulled frantically against their ropes in a futile attempt to flee, chirping nervously all the while.
A harsh and taunting cry echoed throughout the forest air as a notably more powerful Ixal threw his head upwards and bellowed a blood-curdling shriek in raw excitement. He held his massive bow skyward, glorifying his prized weapon by allowing it to bathe it in the morning's dreary light. The oncoming storm made this seizure all the more perfect to the faithful servant; the perfect tribute to Garuda - Lady of the Vortex.
Arrogantly, the creature lowered it's gaze upon the travelers once more, his weapon falling to return passively by his side before he slowly strode tauntingly toward them as his fellow brothers quickly dominated the scene and made their way to isolate and subdue their quarry before they had an opportunity to offer any meaningful resistance - or at least was their intent. Beady, deep-set pearls, tawny in colour, peered out from beneath the creatures large skull of which eagerly advertised it's frighteningly-large, protruding, blackened horns. The towering Ixal's fearless gaze pierced through the comparatively, tiny form of the caravan driver whom returned the creature's glare with widened eyes that spoke volumes of the man's sheer terror. The hyur anxiously pressed his back firmly against the caravan's solid frame as though hoping he could somehow pass through it and fade away from sight. The archer, on the other hand, relished in this golden moment. His jaws parted slowly with a threatening snarl as he bore his sharp and crooked fangs menacingly, finding nothing short of sadistic pleasure in tormenting the fearful driver whom remained frozen with terror. The man's eyes repeatedly darted from side to side, his anxiety surmounting to greater levels all the while as nothing but further Ixal that would only impede any attempt he made to escape greeted his blurred vision. It was in that short moment that the Ixal archer launched himself forward, slamming its clawed hand defiantly into the woodwork next to the man's head - demanding the frightened male's attention forward - and drawing his demonic head very close, mere ilms from a face that was painted pale from dread. The back of the driver's head struck the caravan sharply as he recoiled from the beast that had appeared so suddenly before him. The man's lips quivered lightly with fear, his jaw venturing to open in some weak attempt to seek words that would help relieve him from this situation; words that, in his heart, he knew did not exist.
"What is it that you fear?" the Ixal hissed cockily after taking a moment to relish in the man's unmistakeable body language. The fine wood beneath the creature's claws scratched and creaked heftily under the weight he placed upon it, ringing a very alarming and ceaseless reminder to the male as to how close he lingered to potential death.
The driver lifted his chin and parted his lips a little further in an attempt to answer the domineering presence that hunched low over him, only to be denied once again by the strangling fear that closed off his throat relentlessly.
"Haaaaaa?" the beast spat again as both slobber and drool foully pooled within it's large jaws and oozed repulsively out from between it's scum-coated fangs.
The man twisted his head away slightly as he tried to evade the putrid stench that was blasted toward him with each heated breath without antagonizing the vile creature before him. It was truly sickening - smelling almost as though he beast's entire mouth had been canvased with a thick layer of compounded, rotting meat that had resided there for more than a few moons. Still, he could find no words to offer the creature; none.
The ixal grunted firmly before he finally withdrew from the man's proximity and returned to a standing posture, his eyes, however, still fixated viciously upon him.
"Garuda has no use for such cowardice..... flee now before I feed you to the wolves" his distorted voice barked unforgivingly, gifting the man with no less than a rotten glare of contempt before turning his back on him to briefly inspect the other prisoners.
The man hesitated momentarily in complete disbelief. Such an opportunity was inconceivable, an indirect offer of mercy from the savage tribe of beastkin. Though there was no time to over-think the matter, he couldn't allow himself to tarry long enough to let such an opportunity escape him. The man's eyes quickly darted to his immediate right as he faced uphill to where the carriage had initially been heading. A group of Ixal stood firmly between him and the freedom he had been offered. His frantic glance dodged anxiously between them, fearing intervention as each one eyed him darkly with intent. However, their presence there was not born from any intention to obstruct him and defy their superior, he had to believe that. He had to believe that much and move; quickly.
The man hastily pushed himself away from the caravan and dashed past the Ixal and the travelers
whom they held at blade-point. Stumbling in the process, the man clumsily passed through the group as quickly and as carefully as possibly, his eyes every vigilant - almost expecting to be struck as he by the beasts as he approached, or to have them deliberately stand before him.... but to his complete surprise; they did no such thing.
The male exhaled suddenly in both disbelief and relief...for though they made no effort to provide clear passage for him, neither did they make any effort to stop him. The man took no chances with the blessing he had been bestowed with and hastily sped uphill with all that he had, leaving everything and everyone behind him - hardly even slowing himself as he leapt over what remained of the barricade.
The large, black-horned Ixal peered uphill toward their leader whom calmly descended, alone, having excused himself from the actual seizure and merely observing the process with a similar confidence to that of his second. Their sharp glares met briefly as they both came to a mutual agreement.
The black-horned Ixal exhaled slowly yet sharply before spinning to return his eyes upon the hyur's distant, fleeting form. An unusual calmness in both his attitude and the smoothness of his movement silently testified to prodigious, archery skills.
He raised his bow.
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The strange sound that suddenly announced itself from afar stole the male's attention. He drew to a gradual halt as he tried to analyze the noise, initially uncertain of what it could possibly be, though simultaneously worried about the natural sense of aggression that it seemed to be carrying with it. When the answer announced itself not a second later, as the Ixal's drew within sight above the incline that stood between them, the male could feel the blood draining from his face with bitter realisation.
His reaction was immediate and instinctive, too fast for even a single thought to fully formulate within the young hyur's mind before he roughly grasped Clover's hand and pulled her forcefully behind the nearest tree that provided sufficient cover for the two of them to remain out of immediate sight. His hand shifted upwards toward her abdominem, holding her tightly against his form while his remaining hand had quickly closed itself over her mouth to prevent her for making any sudden sounds. Quickly, he then moved his head to peer out from behind the tree and inspect the scene that was occurring almost mockingly before him. He watched as a crowd of Ixal surrounded his traveling acquaintances and drew their weapons on them threateningly. The male's muscles tightened and released involuntarily, his hands trembling as his conscience waged it's own war against instinct. Abandoning civilians to such a fate was not in his nature, inconceivable... but risking Clover's well-being - only to add fuel to the fire and fail in his attempt - challenged that nature sternly. There were far too many for him to deal with alone... even with most of the Ixal remaining out of view, this much was certain to the hyur, but even still.....
The hyur grunted angrily as he caved to rationality. He brought his head forward again, briefly relieving himself from viewing the ongoing scene that vehemently fueled his bitter frustration.
"Clover" he spoke suddenly. His voice came quietly with a solid and emotionless tone.
"They number too many for us to have any hope of fighting off. They cannot know we are here" he continued while relieving some of the pressure that his hand held across her mouth.
Some odd but indecipherable chatter could be heard a moment later. The thick and harsh voice was difficult to interpret over the skittish chocobo cries and the taunting squawks of the other beasts that leered over the travelers, though it was just audible enough to determine that it was an Ixal who was talking. Andre turned to glance around the edge of the tree again, his brow furrowed in focus as he attempted to discern what was being said, all to no avail.
".....!"
A gasp escaped the man's lips as he saw someone fleeing the scene in the direction of Gridania. Andre's eyes followed the person closely, taking only a moment to realise that it was the caravan's driver. The hyur's eyes grew wide with worry, fearing the man would be hastily pursued, though a lingering sense of urgency cheered on the man's attempt; if even just one person could make it out alive, then.....
His thought was cut short.
Andre watched in horror as the man was suddenly thrown to the ground and sent tumbling, limply across the forest's path. The sheer force of the massive arrow that had sliced through his back caused his body to lurch forward through the air with a sickening crunch as the arrow savagely tore through the man's fragile body, the now, crimson-tipped steel emerging, in part, out from the other side through the ribcage it had so viciously punched through.
Andre shot his head forward once again, his face a canvas - saturated with a thousand emotions in that instant. His grip on Clover tightened unintentionally as rage and lament tortured his mind without relent.
How strange it seemed to resent choosing safety and refuge over danger and captivity.
![[Image: ecec20e41f.png]](https://puu.sh/xvMxb/ecec20e41f.png)
Characters: Andre Winter (Hy'ur) / K'nahli Yohko (Miqo'te)
