FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 7

His blue eyes scanned the freshly wrapped in delicate cloth hand, like for someone that relies solely on his survival instincts when it comes to medicine he did a fairly good job. He wasn't aware of the condition of his hand truth be told until he reached the gates of Warfang, it were the screams that brought his wandering thoughts back together. Turned out that the hand he promised to keep out of harm's way was a total mess.

Blood was everywhere.

Just like the pieces of his honor.

The hand hurt, however the pain was unpredictable, it was coming in waves. Some were weak, merely irritating, occurring whenever he spent too much time thinking about perspectives of his humble self progressing as an individual in the eyes of the dragons.

The other waves weren't as gentle, those pulses felt like his hand would be melting, as if a heated blade would be thrust into it and constantly twirled around, liquefying and ripping through more and more flesh.

Those pulses always triggered when doubt invaded his mind, it was simply unreal that someone like him would be taken for consideration by the dragons,, let alone as an equal partner. He was a mundane cat, one of many and all equally of the same irrelevant value when paired with the magnificence of dragonkind.

Such thoughts, such impulses made him want to scratch his hand so very, very strongly. Instead of submitting to the urge he clicked his tongue and licked his lips, every time feeling a cold sting on his palate.

He could taste snow.

He shook his head, during the wild jerking a single thought rattled inside his skull like rolling dice.

It was so cold.

A shiver ran through his whole spine, as if the cold snap he thought about would trail his back with a freezing finger, making his tail stand on end.

"No daydreaming!" a passing through dragon blared out, eyeing the familiar cheetah with a teasing smirk on his snout

For Hunter the sound of the snide roar was like the rumbling echo of the waterfall, it was however enough to pull him out of his little trance.

Blue eyes blinked, the surrounding world was just a blur, nearly whole vision blocked by only one image.

The sight of his bandaged hand right in front of his nose.

He stared at it for a moment, feeling completely hollow and cut out from the world, a sensation very similar to the one that occurs sometimes during sleep when you're dreaming of falling.

Disconnected.

Before the noises of the world brushed his senses, the familiar, teasing roar of a draconic throat reached him. He slowly dropped his hand, turning his head automatically in the direction from which the teasing blare came from. He spotted the dragon, he barely recognized his features.

Yet he smiled.

His feline ears started to twitch at the sound of his stretching lips, noise of which reminded him of the creaking sound of opening old door.

Something smacked suddenly.

He turned his head in that direction, with whole certainty expecting his head rolling down the steps of Warfang. For him it would be as casual and uninteresting as seeing a falling leaf from a tree.

As it turned out it was not his head rolling down the stairs, but fruits from a basket that someone dropped.

And then came the wail of anguish when the owner of the basket came running after it. It was a young cheetah, innocent and full of dreams, unimportant fly in a huge world.

Like him once.

It was different today, today he walked across his well erected foundations.

He shuddered so strongly that yet another different wave of pain washed over him, completely unrelated with the previous two. He instinctively reached down the collar of his simple blouse, tugging at a medallion he usually keeps pinned to his coat.

The yin yang symbol was surprisingly hot to the touch.

He hissed, the echo of the surrounding world crashed down on him with all its fierceness, every noise pinching his ears with the sensitivity of a million bee's stings. His ears were like wings, stretching and shrinking at each note as if they were a breeze of the wind.

A strong shudder ran over him, his bones cracked, as if they have awoken from a deep slumber.

As if encased in ice.

The medallion wasn't hot, it is him that was cold and now the layers of frost are being peeled off of him. For a second his mind beeped an alarm signal.

Where is my fur?

With slowly creeping panic he started to tap feverishly at his chest, not caring that one of his hands is injured. The slapping sound were muffled.

It was there.

His well worn fur that bathed in more dirt than water was still there. Still scraggly, still stiff and rather unkempt considering cheetah standards.

He was still himself.

That thought forced his hand to squeeze the medallion he was holding that much more stronger than before. Hope is with him.

Nothing will happen as long as Hope is with him.

His thumb ran over the medallion reverently, doing so filled him with an air of serenity. He let out a breath of relief into the warm aura of the city.

For a moment thinking that his breath will come out as a brick of ice.

It turned out to be a classic mist of air.

"Thank you" he whispered gratefully

Only after a few seconds the pulse of realization hit his brain, making it aware of the spoken words that weren't prepared by the mind at all.

He had absolutely no idea for what he was grateful.

He wasn't quite sure either why he is standing right in front of the City Guard main building.

He rubbed his forehead and momentarily jerked his hand back with a gentle hiss. The fur on his head was extremely warm, as if it would be under the influence of the sun for a very long time.

Just for how long he was staying under the sun?

He licked his mouth, the taste of snow completely disappeared from his lips, replaced by the feeling of licking a heated sand from a searing rock.

His lips were cracked.

The hall of the City Guard towered right in front of him, he didn't really knew why he was here, yet he couldn't get his eyes of the walls. There was something at the back of his mind, scratching, like a word hanging at the tip of the tongue that you can't for the love of the Blessed Ones remember what it was.

He shook his head, veins on his neck pulsed lively, as if remembering how it was to pump blood again.

No matter.

He didn't belong here.

He looked at his hand again, he imagined a bow in it, the relief that washed over him was indescribable. He slowly turned his wounded hand around, the relief turned to joy when he remembered how it was to feel this light wood in his palm. That glee eventually changed to regret, knowing that with an injury like that it will take time to commit himself truly to his profession.

Right now he had the unquenchable desire to get out there, there, in the the open world where he spent nearly his entire life. He felt cramped here, between the stones and magnificence, spending nearly your whole time around the objects of your fascination cannot be healthy.

Exactly.

This is why everything is so confusing. Roofs and walls cannot replace the fresh and natural ceiling of leafs and rough, raw rock.

His sensitive nose sniffed the air and his face contracted in a silent scream of disgust. There was something in the air, something in the walls, some difficult to describe scent. It was probably the temperature making his senses hazy, nevertheless the smell was so potent that he could barely stand it.

It reminded him of the putrid smell that some patches of mushrooms create as their own warding spell against some of the more hungrier animals.

To make things worse he was simply reeking of it.

He sharply spun around and marched away quickly, speeding up with each step, almost to the point of sprinting. It was his instinct kicking in suddenly, warning him that he is being followed.

He made a quick turn after the first draconic statue, hiding behind it, tapping at his belt in search of his daggers. The moment his hands patted a full circle around his waist he realized that he has no weapons.

At least metal ones.

He curled his claws into hooks and with a vicious snarl appeared from behind the statue to face his adversary.

"Eeek!" a terrified feminine yelp filled his ears

Something wasn't right with this scream, it didn't sound like an intimidating blare of a kill seeking opponent at all.

The middle aged cheetah women jumped back at the sight of the disheveled and dirty cheetah that unexpectedly appeared before her. His sticky fur, bloodshot blue eyes and, by the Ancestors, his covered in dried blood claws made him look like as if he would crawl out from a dungeon he spent days in with the sole intention to gut her the second he breaks free.

"Why are you following me?" the dirty cheetah snarled, his voice was raspy and rough, sounding like skin being torn across a raw wall

"F-Following you?" the female stammered "I'm not! You jumped me! You better go away or I'll scream!"

Hunter's eyes widened, he straightened up, hands however remained frozen in the air. There was that special tone in the women's voice, it was honesty. It takes a very good actor to fake that.

A very, very good actor.

"I apologize" he rose his hands up apologetically, only now noticing his claws and the dirt and blood covering them,

He recoiled back at the sight.

"I...thought you were someone else" he mumbled, staring at his hands, slowly turning them around, as if fascinated that they are capable of doing that

"I hope so! I don't want anything to do with you!" the female cheetah swung her arm sharply as if she would be chasing off a very irritating fly "Look at yourself in the mirror or some puddle, whichever you prefer! Who on the Ancestors name would want to stalk you! Out of my way!"

The female stormed off, not before however most likely cursing him under her breath since she kept whispering as she went until finally vanishing from his sight completely.

Her frame disappeared, her angry voice disappeared, even her scent disappeared.

What didn't disappear was the feeling of being watched.

This time some strange realization struck him, the glare he was feeling wasn't coming from around here, meaning it wasn't coming from this people, not even on this level of earth. He was being stared upon, from above, as if a curious giant would be observing those funny ants running around which call themselves people.

He kept staring at the sky, looking for the giant, the creature was nowhere to be seen as expected, yet his eyes lingered for a while on the huge mountainside surrounding Warfang for no apparent reason.

Then suddenly from top of the mountain two figures shot into the air. He blinked, sharp eyes recognizing the beautiful sight instantly. Those were his friends soaring the sky, purple and black, one of a kind, a threat to every enemy and a comforting shoulder to every ally.

True giants.

He was running with them in an unspoken alliance.

As he observed the two magnificent figures flying above he no longer felt that he was stalked, shards of clarity that sunk into his mind formed a complete block, making him realize, truly, his insignificance. There was absolutely no way someone like him could be even compared to those two.

And he was glad for it.

The overburdening gaze of the stalker shifted its attention somewhere else, no longer tormenting him. It was hiding or was blocked, whatever the case may be the overwhelming gaze no longer bothered him. The sky was graced by creatures that are too fantastic to be ignored.

This thought triggered something in him, awakened his survival instinct, one he relies on as a scout and a brushstalker. This was the chance to vanish into the shadows and away from prying eyes.

And he had a strong feeling that he needs, he must to do just that.

*

The land was peaceful, with the defeat of the Dark Army ended the times when traveling the roads of the Realms might put a traveler under the risk of being ambushed by bandits. After the triumph over Malefor he never heard, nor did his birds bring any news, regarding bandit camps. The retreat of the Apes to their fortress in Dante's Freezer ended the threat of losing your life to a blade on a road once and for all.

He stopped at the nearest tree trunk, resting his hand on the rough bark and taking a deep breath of fresh air, his lungs stung pleasantly as if waves of water would be clashing inside. He rearranged his backpack, feeling strange without the touch of his wooden bow on his back, but at the same time relieved that he doesn't have to feel the weight of a weapon he reached deadly mastery with.

His falcon cried from above and the sound put a smile on his face, the feeling could be compared to the sensation that washes over you when you hear the very first cry of your newborn child.

He pushed off the tree trunk and with a lively step marched forward, patting the solid tree before leaving.

Its leafs and branches danced to the rhythm of the air happily.

His uneventful journey came to an end a while later, when the wooden towers of his village came into view. A modest place surrounded by the wonder that is nature.

He gently ran his thumb over the falcon feather pinned to his coat, home is home no matter how far one's perspective changes, now it became clear that Meadow was right by making him keep the symbol of his village.

For some reason he simply had to return, even if for one night. The urge to do so was too strong.

"Hello Hunter!" a cheetah guard shouted from the top of the tower next to the main gate, waving his one hand lively at the visitor below "Never expected to see you here so soon!"

He smiled, waving back at the cheerful guard. It felt good to feel a smile stretching his lips.

"There is always a good time to return home"

"So true!" the guard nudged the scout to come closer with a wide swing of his arm "Come, I'll open the gate for you!"

The guard kept his promise, he didn't even reach the doorstep of his village and the gate was already wide open.

"Thank you" Hunter nodded gratefully as he passed through the arch of the opened entryway

"No problem! Have fun!"

Nothing changed.

This was the first thought that invaded his mind the moment he took a whiff of the smells rushing across the village. Scents of birds, dirt, crops and wood were the most prominent, this village was always smelling like Nature.

Realizing this shattered some weight on his heart he wasn't aware even existed.

He walked forward, exchanging polite gestures and some quick words with the passing people he mostly recognized, even if he didn't there was always that little strand of fur that looked somewhat familiar.

"Look who came crawling back"

There was also that one patch of fur he knew all too well, familiarity around which he ironically didn't feel comfortable.

Hunter turned in the direction of the voice, masking perfectly his uneasiness, finding cover is a trait a hunter can use even during conversations.

As expected Prowlus was standing proudly at the edge of the road, in front of a fletcher's shop. Claws of one hand were silently drumming against a recently fashioned bow neatly placed on the table, the other ones were gliding across the hilt of the sword that always protruded from his thick belt.

He was wearing a light blue shirt with his favorite red cape on top of it, strapped to it with a round, big pin, inside of which from a distance looked like a black, small pawprint of a cat. Even if it was unable to tell from this perspective Hunter was certain that underneath that shirt Prowlus was wearing some type of armor.

He was always ready for a fight, a little reminder if his obvious arrogant posture wouldn't be enough to tell that distrust is that particular's cheetah daily bread.

"Chief" Hunter bowed respectfully

"Spare me your false praise. You never showed any respect for the traditions of our people before, so don't pretend to have any now"

"I drifted away from our traditions, I never disrespected them"

"Say whatever you will to justify yourself so you can sleep at night. Truth remains unchanged"

Hunter's ears flattened on his skull.

"Please I haven't come here to fight"

"Then why you are here?" Prowlus pushed forward, for a second his hand clenched around the bow with the intention to lift It, yet fingers slipped from the weapon in the last moment

"Maybe you came here to scout out the area for your new friends. Dragons finally decided to show their true snouts?"

Hunter shook his head.

"When will you finally free yourself of this bias. You fought alongside dragons, how can you treat them as your enemies when you shed blood together. There are no threatening secrets between fighters with such a bond"

"Don't teach me about the ways of warfare Hunter!" Prowlus snarled, his orange fur bristled

"I didn't mean to imply anything"

"You never do, that's why you ran away to drakekin because you couldn't face responsibility. You should have chosen better covers than scales though, I think I would prefer the lamas over dragons, with the first at least I wouldn't have to fight alongside out of forced necessity. I wouldn't have also have to worry about plotting, Kane at least has honor, not like dragons who in their arrogance kept the knowledge about the portals from us, undoubtedly wanting to get the spoils the greedy bastards and when they realized they couldn't handle the pressure they revealed everything. Surely in search of more cannon fodder, history likes to repeat itself after all"

"Everybody suffered loses in that war Chief, there is never real happy ending in bloodshed"

Prowlus' eyes narrowed, he looked at his once childhood friend with disgust painted on his face like in front of him didn't stand another member of his species, but putrid shit on two legs that is being devoured by worms from the inside which make little holes in the steamy surface, making the dump leak more shit as if it was bleeding.

"There is always something for you, an idiotic excuse just to marginalize the value of your own kind. Do what you came here to do and get out, I don't want to see you in this village by tomorrow's evening. Get back to your scaly friends and crawl into their nests, pretend to be their egg"

The Chief stopped right in front of Hunter's nose.

"Remember only that last time those eggs were easily stomped. Next time the lizards will try to put their mess on someone's else shoulders they will find out that there is no place on them. We will be prepared"

"Good day to you" Prowlus snarled and moved past the freshly arrived cheetah

"To you also Chief" Hunter replied, but the head of this village made no indication that he heard him

He continued on, turning at the nearest dirt road, exactly past the fletcher shop. Back in the days he knew this path like the back of his hand, after all it led to his house once. He lowered himself on one knee, scratching the earth with his claws only to sniff it moments later.

The smell was the same, the path however was not. It has grown with flowers, with big strands of grass surrounding it. No longer paws of children trampled this route, nature took the chance to recover. The path shrunk, now it seemed that there was rarely any movement this way and the movement that he could notice was soft and gentle, something only a naked foot could achieve.

As if someone purposely put his feet exactly in the same place as before.

He had no idea why exactly he is heading towards his old home, no one was waiting for him there. Duty took away the opportunity to make a family, war took away his parents.

Most likely curiosity was behind his, which by itself was strange already. Why would curiosity pull him towards his old house when all this time he was surrounded by creatures he was fascinated by on a daily basis.

He scratched his ear, deciding with one flick of his pointy hearing sensor that instinct is like nature, sometimes unpredictable, that doesn't change the fact however that it needs to be respected.

He moved on, passing through slowly fading memory of familiar territory, a sensation that was challenged with each step. Starting from less subtle stabs thrown by the resurrected grass, or more fierce cuts by obstacles appearing in front of him that couldn't be ignored.

Like for example a small tree growing in the middle of the path, tree which was respectfully undisturbed.

Nothing remains the same forever.

He gasped suddenly.

A light was burning in the window that once was the transparent spyglass to his room. Someone was living in his house.

Pulses of impulsive fear and anger shot through him, they burned out swiftly however, replaced quickly by the cool realization that time always flows, natural cleaner of old dirt, natural seed for new life.

He hesitated, the house already belonged to someone else, whatever memory of his past existence no longer exists within, or outside for that matter, the wooden walls were clearly renovated. There was nothing for him to reminiscent here any longer.

He was about to turn around, his legs already started to itch, the problem was however that out of nowhere he felt as if he would have chains on his legs. Making him feel like a lonely prisoner in a cell who has all the time in the world to think.

He used all that imagine time to come to one realization.

He didn't come here for memories.

Then for what?

For that question he had no time.

Licking his lips he directed himself towards the front door to his former house. The windowsills were lined with probably every type of flower. The windows were as rich in colors as they were in smells, almost if every corner of the Realms on those windowsills.

He stopped in front of the door, hand clenched into a soft fist ready to knock, but then he stopped, frowning he observed the door carefully.

They were made of wood, mostly, in between the very finely shaped boards were inserted shards of glass which magnified his reflection. As if they were many small spyglasses ready to serve the nosy eye hiding behind.

He felt naked under the inquisitive, artificial, hopefully, eyes, yet he was familiar with the technological advancement of the moles to know that this might be some special glass, allowing perhaps to see things only from one side while the other is simply a mirror.

He wiggled uncomfortably and impulsively rearranged his clothes, with a glance making sure that everything is in the right place and not torn or loose enough to expose him.

Everything was in order.

He knocked at the door, slightly stronger than he intended, all that nervousness stiffened his joints.

"Visitors!" an excited shout came from within followed by some rumbling sounds of some falling furniture

The shout was clearly feminine.

The door swung open before he could even withdraw his hand. In the entrance appeared a young girl that looked like she just yesterday reached adulthood.

He swallowed hard, realizing with a slight dose of dread that perhaps this is the only figure in this whole village he entirely doesn't recognize, not even a strand of fur was familiar.

And her fur was memorable. It was sharp brown, every strand bright and lively, gleaming and soft like a recently laid egg. The intensity of youth intensified by the white hue her fur adapted on the inner sides of her body. For a second he got lost in her eyes, sapphire blue, sharp and bright like her fur, emphasized by the black spots filling her eye sockets. It was like looking into a perfectly clean and intense pool of water gathered at the bottom of a cave. One glance was enough to feel refreshed.

The other thing that caught his attention and he was ashamed to admit that he caught himself on such an insolent observation, even if he was aware that it was a reaction of every heterosexual male. The girl's clothing was very scarce, it was made of only two, three things if counting jewelry.

She was barefooted, feline paws tapped at the wooden floor lively as if not able to decide where to rest. Her soft furry legs were uncovered to the middle of her thighs, the rest was hidden underneath white shorts, color of which was as striking as that of her fur.

Her arms were completely bare, her chest was covered by a loose white tank top, too short for her frame, freely flowing at her abdomen, revealing her naval area. The space created by her moderate sized breasts pushing against the material. On top of her raven mane she wore a tiara, the three blue gems were as potent in color as her eyes.

"Hi there handsome!" the cheetah girl greeted him, flicking her mane back with a jerk of her head "To what I owe..." she bit her lip, eyeing her guest from top to bottom "... the pleasure?" she purred saucily

For a moment Hunter's ears flattened on his skull, during this second his head was completely empty, hit again by confusion this time however infused by a slight embarrassment.

The paralyze lasted for two seconds, after them his ears straightened back again and clarity filled his mind.

"I'm visiting the village, I was born here and the place you occupy currently milady was once the house I called home"

"Hmh" the girl snorted, pouting her lips "Memory lane type? Aren't there better things to do than waste time on the past?"

Hunter bowed deeply.

"Forgive me milady, disturbing you was never my intention. I wish you a pleasant day" he turned around

"Where do you think you're going?" she snapped, grabbing the arm of his backpack and fiercely pulling her guest back

She basically threw him inside the house, surprisingly using more strength than he believed a female of her figure possessed.

With wide eyes Hunter supported himself on the nearby walls, stretching his arms sideways in the corridor , slapping his hands fiercely against the wood as he stared down at the floor. Imagination running wild, projecting pictures of him holding his life on the rough walls of a cave, eyes not looking at a floor, but a bottomless pit.

"Levity, persistence, failure" the girl counted each word on her fingers, furry shoulder leaning against the wall "You got the last one, now when you wasted your time at least get the other two"

"Why?" Hunter straightened himself, turning his attention at the stranger with who he simply felt he had to indulge into, at least to some degree, philosophical debate

The girl's brow raised up, reacting to the unexpected question.

"Why? You sure it wasn't supposed to be what?"

"I'm certain"

The girl smiled.

"How about because I say so? My house, my rules" she extended her hand, bouncing on her feet as she pushed herself away from the wall like an excited young girl meeting her idol

"My name's Hope by the way"

His ears flickered as if a fly would be buzzing next to them. Healthy hand momentarily traveled to his chest, right below the collar of his blouse. Feeling a small, round, artificial bulge underneath.

"Hope?" he mumbled, the whisper that came out from his mouth no stronger than the final huff of an elderly person on his deathbed

The girl cocked her head, the gems of her tiara glimmered, reflecting the light of the sun slipping through the windows

"You having a stroke or somethin'?"

The confused expression of her face was enough to drive him back from another surprising trance, it was enough, he has lost the touch with concentration far too many times in the past several hours.

His palm grazed against the surface of the feminine soft hand, clenching and turning it gently, bringing the upper side to his lips where the hand was bestowed with a respectful kiss.

"My name is Hunter. It's my pleasure milady" he guided the hand back to its owner, supplying it with the comfort of his touch for as long as he could

The girl's eyes widened.

"Your name's Hunter? Like hunter, the guy that hunts wild boars?"

"Yes, my name is exactly the same as the title of our people's most respected profession"

Hope laughed, her heaving breasts stretched the material of the tank top even further, uncovering a little more area above the naval spot. The sound of her laughter was loud and squeaky.

His ears stood up at attention.

"And you have the balls to cringe at my name?"

"My reaction had nothing to do with amusement, but intimidation caused by the beauty of your name"

"Is that so?" she muttered, biting on her claw as she innocently wiggled her shoulders from side to side

His eyes scanned the girl's figure once more, her seductive moves triggering a spark of excitement. He quickly pushed his gaze away from the attractive host and focused on the walls of the house. Not only he did this, because he felt as if he was pushing the boundaries of respect and good taste, but also there was something stabbing at his heart, nearly ordering him to look away.

His former home changed, from the corridor he was in he couldn't see the whole house, but the main room and a part of the floor that led to another corridor were enough to come to such a conclusion.

There was barely any furniture inside, whatever stand or piece of table that dotted the inside of the house was occupied by a flower or some different kind of plant. Walls were completely empty, not even the tiniest painting hung on the wall, light of the sun freely spreading its touch across them.

The lack of furniture or any other sort of house decoration didn't mean it was neglected however. In the corner in the ceiling he spotted a spider web, it was so big that it was clear that the owner of the house took great care to allow it to spread. The spider which created this art was there, sitting right in the middle, with the eye of his imagination Hunter could see it grinning, overjoyed by its perfect accommodations.

One look was enough to tell that the inhabitants of nature were the decorations of the house and spiders weren't the only addition.

The main room, bare like possibly every other part of the house, was a clear indication of that. There were no seats, couches or whatsoever to sit on. The boards were ripped apart directly in the middle of the room, uncovering the soil below, which surprisingly was birthing its first tendrils of grass.

Above it was mounted a wooden bar, that was nothing else that a long branch of a tree made from several small ones, judging by the missed during cleaning traces of white bird dropping and the pillows made of bird's feathers put all around the patch of soil, it was rather obvious what type of creature used this modest parrot stand. It stretched all the way to the far wall, low enough below the ceiling to allow an incoming bird to sit on it without worrying that it will crash into the ceiling. The wooden bar reached the end wall and stretched even further behind the open wide window.

Windows.

This was the other and main thing that made him feel like a complete stranger to this place. Windows were everywhere, didn't matter if it was a side wall or the ceiling. Big, small, and even replacing a wall completely like the one in the living room through which the branch stretched, size didn't matter.

Mostly all of them were opened widely, with all the glass in the house Hunter came to realization that the burning light he saw wasn't a lamp, but the natural rays of the sun bouncing off with immense freedom all around the house.

Hope grinned, noticing her guest's curious stare and unendingly turning head as he observed his former home.

"Nothing changed eh?"

Hunter licked his lips, catching up the sarcasm and yet finding no suitable response for it.

She was forced to forget about the tease.

"Like what I did to this joint? What do you think?"

"It's...peculiar"

Hope laughed.

"Peculiar" she pitifully mimicked the scout's voice "No need for fancy words Hunter, it's weird, I know, people already told me that"

His eyes sparkled, he could relate with that, more than once he heard that his decisions weren't normal. Even if mostly it was only one and the same mouth voicing its displeasure.

"It's unfortunately society's flaw to scrutinize something that is misunderstood. Following a path that is scarcely trodden doesn't make your life unacceptable, merely different and to some degree special"

Her left ear flopped down as she tilted her head.

"You have something from a bookworm in you right?" she shrugged, quickly turning gears in her head momentarily focusing on another task "It's cool, I don't mind people calling me weird, because I'm weird. I'm the village's freak and I'm fine with that"

Hunter smiled politely, bowing gently.

"Your acceptance of yourself is inspiring and respect worthy. I am however bewildered by your confidence, I know the Chief, we grew up together, I am also familiar with the ways of his leadership. I'm surprised to see that his strict hand didn't tug at your fur yet, forgive me the blunt expression"

Hope laughed, a slice of her raven mane slipped from the grip of the tiara, black strands covering her right eye.

"I'm handling it. I'm basically a goddess. Young, round ass and perky boobs can get you everywhere if you know how to waggle your tail"

She blew the hair out of her face, her expression changed, for a second the cheerful face of a carefree girl disappeared from her features, replaced by that of a mature women who knows how life looks and is not afraid to tell it to piss off.

Sapphire eyes glimmered with the fierceness of an approaching deadly tidal wave.

"Besides, I don't follow any rules. I prefer to seize the day"

Hunter nodded.

"That's admirable and dangerous milady. You are a brave women"

"Stop miladying me already" she rolled her eyes "You don't call a clown king"

"Perhaps, but I see no reason not to apply the title to someone who so obviously follow her desires even if the road was undoubtedly difficult. Turning a house into what seems like Nature's natural abode is awe inspiring"

Hope smiled broadly, the stern expression was gone from her face.

"You noticed?"

Hunter nodded reverently.

"I could not to, I am too a faithful child of Mother Nature, I recognize her scent everywhere, just like I recognize those that value her just like I do. We tend to grow too complacent in the age of technology and forget that true beauty, true advancement is surrounding us and it does it all by itself, without the need of complicated devices and strange machinery"

"Exactly!" she blurted out, clapping her hand as she bounced forward, with one swipe of her hand forcing the backpack off his back and pulling him inside the living room by his hand.

She let him go, prancing in the middle of the room where she made a single, long turn with her arms spread wide open. The bottom of her loose shirt flailing in the air unhindered like a flag fluttering against the wind.

"Isn't it wonderful? I managed to invite birds into this house, with their help I try to fertilize the ground here that I dug out with my own claws" she dropped on her knees, right at the edge on the uncovered soil, her tail making ungraceful, happy swings

"I already got the first grass, but this is not the peak of my ambition, I want to grow a tree here, right here I buried the seed already" she pointed at the middle of the earth "The surroundings might not be too welcoming for it, there might not be enough light and the water is the constant problem. I don't want to demolish the whole house, I could remove the ceiling but then I could drown when it's going to rain"

She got up, smiling proudly.

"I'm working on it and I have hope, the name implies right?"

She folded her arms on her breasts.

"Say, how close are you with the Chief?"

Hunter scratched the back of his right ear, he didn't know this girl and being too forward might be inappropriate.

"He is a wise man, sadly we don't see eye to eye in many things"

"A diplomatic way to say I hate the dick" she nodded with a giggle "Good, means I can tell you a secret" she locked her hands together, stretching her arms down her frame, resting her cheek on her shoulder she began to swirl her shoulder innocently back and forth, puppy eyes locked at him.

"Promise you won't tell on me?"

He placed a hand on his heart, bowing politely.

"I swear on my honor"

She shook her head with an endearing smile.

"Boy, you are stiff, which isn't bad if it applies to every part of your body. This could make things interesting if we push this relationship a little further" she wiggled her brows

Hunter coughed into his fist, not knowing how to respond to that. Instinctively his hand rearranged the belt on his waist.

"In the back of the house, that once was possibly your bedroom I prepared something of a cave, I won't take you there since I prefer to have only one scent of fur in that room. It's dark and cozy, somewhat creepy"

She looked around as if making sure no one is watching and then approached her guest, pulling at his ear and raising on her toes to aim her mouth at it.

"I'm planning on inviting a wolf here" she whispered

His eyes widened, as one who understands the rules of nature he was aware of the reckless consequence that something that is wild is also unpredictable. A dangerous concoction when innocent people and children are involved.

He placed his hands on the girl's shoulders, pushing her away gently, looking at her with stern eyes.

"This is unwise"

"Maybe, but nature is nature, I want to feel both sides of it, I need to. The safe side is not enough, the fierce one needs to be added to the mix also. I want to feel every part of earth on me, every day, every moment"

"You will be putting people at risk"

"I won't! Promise I'll be extra careful! I don't want the wolf to get hurt, nor do I want the people to get hurt. I only work at night and I'll make sure the beastie won't stray away somehow, I'll figure out that part"

"You don't invite a predator to a pasture of sheep. Even if trained to protect the call of instinct is too strong to be ignored, even more without constant control"

She folded her arms again, offended by his response.

"I expected more support from a loyal servant of Nature"

Hunter shook his head.

"My disagreement milady with your actions didn't lower my understanding of Nature, as her loyal servant I'm familiar with her moods. Taking care of the whole world can be a huge burden, sometimes things happen that nobody could expect. The whip always lashes, it's in our common sense to stay away from its reach"

"Then you will be happy to know that I didn't have any luck. I've seen a wolf, but I never managed to coax it closer, let alone make an attempt to bury under the wall which is my plan from the beginning by the way. You can sleep safely"

Hope frowned, tilting her head again, her eyes sparkled with suspicion yet she didn't make a step back.

"Why I'm telling you all of this anyway? We have just met"

His hand impulsively jumped to the medallion hiding under his clothes. That was a question that was scratching at the back of his head as well. Lately everything was so confusing that there was no point in seeking sense.

"I truly don't know my lady"

"Your voice is so soothing"

He caressed the medallion more fiercely.

Hope nodded at his working hand that despite the bandage and obvious injury was moving quite lively.

"What is that thing you are groping so feverishly like a girl's tit?"

He reached down his shirt and without any seconds thoughts pulled out the yin yang symbol, resting it on his palm and eyeing it reverently.

She recoiled back, hand shooting to her chest.

"What is..."

"It's a lucky charm I believe. I'm not a devoted follower of our people's tradition, symbols don't mean much to me, I should give it to someone else probably. I never did that however and I won't probably, it was passed onto me many years ago and I got attached to it. It feels important now"

"Now?"

Hunter shook his head, fingers of the bandaged hand wiggled as if each of them wanted to go its own way.

"Maybe always" he muttered, not really knowing what he meant by that

Hope moved closer, putting a hand on top of his wounded one, she gasped and her eyes flashed with an unnatural light.

"Not again. I escaped. I don't want to"

The sudden trembles that were running through her body radiated to him. Hunter looked at his host worriedly.

"My lady?"

"You..." her eyes widened, she pushed away from him, mouth moving, speaking silent words "You must leave...I have things to do" she practically ran back to the corridor, picking up the dropped backpack and shoving it in his arms

"What Is wrong?"

"Nothing" she grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged towards the door "I'm having my period, I'm rather explosive then"

Grudgingly he followed her rather bold nudge, before he knew it he was at the doorstep and the door were closing behind him.

"Hunter"

He turned around, facing the young girl again, young only by body, because the shade he saw in her eyes reminded him of someone very old, or someone who accepted his sad faith.

"Yes?"

"It's here..." she shook her head in disbelief, staring at the ground

He looked himself over, looking for whatever thing she was referring to.

"What is milady?"

"Blood over your hands, pawn inside the master plan. Demon in your ear, evil on your breath. You brought the wolves right here, you brought the kiss of death" she mumbled basically to herself

She brought her hand to her mouth, seemingly kissing her palm, but the moment she extended her hand to him he realized she was holding his medallion which she must have accidently slap away from his hand during her unexpected chaotic explosion.

He never felt it was missing, something that never happened before.

"I will always..." she licked her lips "...here, your symbol"

He took it, a strange feeling of accomplishment washed over him which was as depressing as it was pleasant.

"Hold on to it, tightly, ok? You know what it represents, yes?"

"Hope"

The girl smiled weakly, it was a heartbreaking sight.

"Don't lose it ok? She's pretty. Treat her with the same amount of respect you treated me, she will like that fancy title you called me I'm sure. Use it only when you really need it ok? It was a little tiring to listen to it constantly. We girls like nice words, but only when they are used in the right moment"

She reached out, brushing her fingers against his arm.

"I owe you that much"

"I will do as you ask mi-"

"Nah-ah" she put her finger on his mouth "Right moment" she said sternly

Hunter nodded in understanding.

She smiled, sending him an invisible, airborne kiss.

"Stay safe hunter" she winked and closed the door

He remained staring at the door, still not truly comprehending what has happened and exactly how fast it happened. He locked the medallion over his neck a strange feeling of clarity washed over him, the world became brighter all of a sudden.

He blinked, when his eyes opened every color was back to its normal hue, he felt strangely empty, as if he lost something he was carrying for all his life except he didn't remember what it was.

Another rumbling sound came from within the house, right behind the door, sounding like a sad drop of yet another furniture which in its stagnant depression finally gave away and somehow found a way to shatter itself, magically placing itself in a spot where it should never have been in the first place.

He remembered however that there was no furniture near the door.