Freshly turned earth lay in disarray, the soil still dark and rich from the recent passage of Darth Valar's determined footsteps. Her stride was relentless, despite the thick tendrils of undergrowth that clutched at her shins and ankles, their feeble attempts to restrain her shattered in moments, twisting and breaking underfoot. The trail she left behind was more akin to a hurricane than a passing hunter, a force of nature, unrestrained by the expectations of others.
Beholden only to her own desires and the rare few with power to ensure there were consequences to her actions. In the case of a hunt like this, Valar doubted there were many rules she could break that would be enforced, though those that surely did carried little interest to her regardless. The hunts of others were their own; her victories would be hers and hers alone. The trails of the rest who had gathered here today, a minor nuisance to be ignored and avoided.
Already, power thrummed through her veins, a spark of energy desperate to be given purpose, held within a harsh grip of focus that had pointed it at a simple task.
"You ready?" A feminine voice asked, soft, barely a whisper, yet perfectly clear, as their body shifted, flexible wraps fluttered with the movement, and sheathed blades whistled with the wind through the gap between handle and cover. Another woman responded, their voice bright with keen energy as the hunt had approached,
"Absolutely."
The rest of their movements faded with a command, a minor effort of will, disapproving of the tribute offered.
"This is my third favourite spear," proclaimed another, their boisterous voice filled with undeserving pride for what was little more than a weapon, a tool that, for an instance, Valar was tempted to crush. She almost did, regardless of whatever consequences such an act would bring. Loud as they were, the Force offered not only their proclamation, but the echo, a wandering traveller that stumbled its way through tumbling leaves and rattled branches, a reminder of just how well sound travelled in the forests of Stewjon.
Others had spoken as well, a haze of conversations floating in the aether, ready to be seized upon with the zeal of a hungry hound bounding towards its unwitting prey.
"Also, whose the hunk over there and which of you two will introduce me when this is all over?" Caught Valar's attention next, the sound exotic, a tremble to the air that came from words adapted by a mouth that wasn't humanoid, Valar's senses faded just as she noticed the way the wind started to shift through alien lips, the high-pitched whistle felt as much as it was heard in the moments that followed.
The last she heard of the conversation was a perfectly even,
"My father is mated."
An unseen pressure restrained the flow, the conversations peetering out until all that had remained was the horn and their release.
Seconds had passed, a blink in the eye, unremarkable if not for the way she pushed onwards. A riot of movement, loud and thunderous in a place that respected silence, an early warning for a prey that would need every advantage.
With a crack of a branch, a bare whisper to most, Darth Valar charged onwards, propelled by the sound of softened ground clumping beneath a hardened hoof, the clench of dirt, and the soggy plop of churned earth. An invitation as clear as day, she followed, her senses stretched beyond mortal limits. It did not take long for the Cerynth to pause; the stench of its breath carried by the hound under her tight grip. A grin, wild and frantic, stretched across her face.
Intent, her stride softened, each step chosen with care, until she moved with little more than a whisper.
The Hunt had begun.
It was only fair that both sides struggled.
Tags: OPEN
