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Chapter 5 - Round Two, Fight!

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As much as Loona hated to admit it, she needed some gear. After a bit of stumbling, she finds the road and sniffs out where she parked the van. Throwing open the back, she climbs inside and begins to dig around. First item of business, a cloak. It's the equivalent of a full suit of armor against that feather. That's it's weakness; only being able to strike what is exposed. "Where is that damn thing? I know we've got one... Ah, here it is." With a satisfied grin, she throws the dark grey cloth over her shoulders and ties the front. A typical assassin's cloak, nearly reaching the ground and sporting a large hood.

Next, her eyes scan the weaponry. Guns, swords, axes, a scythe... Guns are likely to be no good against his speed and stealth, plus she's grown to respect his tenacity. No, too impersonal, but maybe a sword would come in handy. He'll survive a few cuts and maybe a hole or two. She picks a small one-hander and tosses it from hand to hand.

Reflecting on his earlier tactics, she opts to add in a pair of work gloves. Even a little exposed fur can give him the upper hand. Preparations complete, she hops down and out of the van and slams the doors closed. After throwing the hood over her ears, she tests her sword choice with a few swings, chopping through a few branches and stabbing at a few falling leaves. Finding it satisfactory, she takes a long and deep sniff of the air. "I hope he hasn't been too bored without me." She catches herself momentarily missing his banter and pushes away the thought.

After a few minutes of walking, scenting the misty air, and keeping track with her compass, she begins to hear a familiar gekkering cackle. "Keh-heh ka-hah, kah-ha hah~..." It echoes through the forest, but she can tell his general direction. Moving low and quick, the dark grey bullet weaves through the trees and advances on her quarry, following the sounds and scents across the damp forest floor.

A short while later, the chittering turns into taunting. "Kahah! Ohh, the pretty hound has hidden her radiant glow. What a pity, truly!" His words this time manage to invoke a hint of embarrassment inside her. The persistence and sincerity of his compliments is becoming harder to overlook. "And is that a weapon, I spy? Are you sure that's wise..?"

"I-- bhu... Hmph. Come out and face me, Reynard. I'll cut off your tail for a trophy." She barks her threat in his general direction and a moment later he drops from somewhere above with a somersault. His cane has returned to his waist, and the feather to his hat. She stares him down, but her look is returned with one much softer.

Looking up just slightly his eyes meet hers and, with a bit less flourish than usual, he proclaims, "At last, you seem to be taking this seriously. I'm ever-so-glad to finally be seen as an equal." His ears give a small flutter, and his tail swishes slowly behind him, its white tip peeking in and out of view.

Holding her left hand close to her side and under the cloak, she holds the sword ahead of her in her right. Lowering her stance slightly, she takes narrow, cautious steps towards the fox. "Equals is pushing it, but I admit it's been fun, you cocky bastard. But I'm playing for keeps, now." The sun is higher in the sky as the morning slips into midday, and she still hopes to have her share of me-time later.

Reynard flicks something on his cane, and he gives it a tug. Out comes a true rapier, with just a bit more reach than the feather. This gives Loona more clarity on his choice of fighting style. "Shall we see which has the advantage, then? Power, or agility?"

She tightens her grip on her own sword; a cutlass, she notes. "How is that even a question?" She weaves the tip in a circle, with another step bringing her into strike range. She extends her arm quickly with a straight jab towards his right shoulder. He brings his blade up and redirects her strike away from him, to her left. Rolling the momentum, she makes a sweeping strike towards the same target, once again being deflected, this time upwards. Each strike pushes the fox backwards as he fights against her superior strength.

Pulling her arm back to build up power, she begins to bring it down hard. The trickster lowers his sword to the ground, and with a quick move of his left hand, he reaches up and plucks the feather out of the band. In a flash, she finds it directly in the path of her sword, threatening to be sliced in half. She reverses her strength and halts her hand. " Cheater!!" She shouts, a sudden burst of fear running down her spine.

He retorts, "Trickster~!" and before she can pull back, unleashes his own attack; a swirl of the feather at the only exposed part available to him, her large black nose. As the feather comes close to her nose, she catches the familiar whiff of a toilet. Before she can even begin to process that thought, the feather's strike lands, and a radiating wave of tingling shoots back into her sinuses.

Her lips curl, her breath begins to escape her control. Her ears shift under the weight of the hood, and her tongue curls upwards to flick at the roof of her mouth. Then, it hits full force. "He~ee~eh, hyiiigh-tchoo! Hyaa ahgh-kt' choo!!" Two quick and intense sneezes wrack her body, tearing up her eyes yet again, her make-up beginning to bleed into the messy fur at the top of her cheeks. She is stopped in her tracks, as another one immediately climbs through her sinuses.

Her head tilts back, and her muzzle hangs open as she fights the intensity. "Hyiihaaah... Hiighh-ih..." As she leans back, she sees the black blur and white spots slip into her range. With a watery blink, she just manages to make out his cane's upward slash. A loud clank is heard as the sword collides with her collar, and suddenly the weight on her shoulders begins to lessen. Her ears pin back, and she lets out a loud, high-pitched sneeze, her saliva adding itself to the sea of mist. "Heehyeaaah-kt' chi'oooh!"

His slice has cut through both the cord of the cloak, and half the strings of her pentagram. The shirt's decoration falls loosely onto the rest of her shirt, and before her cloak can slip to the ground, she grasps it with her left hand. With a shake of her right shoulder to boost the that half over, she pinches the two sides together, holding tight to her protection. During all this, her nose continues to wiggle and twitch as the feeling fades, but the minor distraction isn't enough to keep her from resuming her assault.

"Grrraarrgh!" She leans into a charging lunge, eager to keep pressing him back. Her aim is center mass, and Reynard anticipates it as harder to parry. He shifts towards her right, coaxing a shift in her aim, before rolling his movement into a duck and shuffle, placing him past and underneath her lunge, on her left. His left hand again wields the feather, dragging its bristly black tip across her nostril and down the side of her snout. It crinkles strongly to the left, and once again she is stopped in her steps.

The tickle feels even stronger, this time. She plants the tip of her blade into the ground and rests some of her weight on the hilt. Her left hand releases its restraining grip and comes up to fan her face, forcing some external air across it to try and alleviate the burning tickle. Her maw opens wide as she fights against the sensation, her tail bristling against the fabric. "Heh-yehhih hih'aaa-gggh... haaaah hyiigh..!" Her frustration builds along with the sneeze, finding this easy oversight to be so embarrassing. Of course he would target her snout.

Within only a moment of his attack, she feels the cloak slide across her back, exposing her ears, followed by her grey back, and then her huge and bushy tail. The rush of air leaves her with a sudden chill, spiking the sneeze into action. Her nose quivers against the white of her face, and she pulls back to unleash a small fit. "Hiyiggh tchooo! Ik-tchhoo! Hih haaah..! Ihk-tchiii- ooooh!!" Her hair is tossed somewhat wildly from her expulsions, shaking loose some of its bonds and becoming messier. "Snff-fff..." She finishes off the sensation with a strong sniff as, with nothing remaining to hold, she gives her nose a rub with her left hand.

While that was satisfying in its own way, the clear feeling of defeat it has left her with sends a new wave of power to her muscles. Turning around, she is met with a loud ripping sound, as the fox shreds her cloak in two, rendering any thoughts of its retrieval meaningless. "Whoops, so much for your newfound armor. Have you recovered, dear Loona?" He asks this with his usual sincerity, as he stands several paces away, leaving behind his earlier trickery of the mists. Again, the large enchanted owl feather resides in his similarly large hat.

"Hmph. Sure, and here comes round two." She pulls her sword from the dirt, and makes a low leap towards the fox. She swipes out with her leg, and he bounces off the ground. In the next moment she unleashes a swipe from the left, with restrained power. With the leap, Reynard finds himself off-balance and struggles to deflect the blow. His arm is pushed away from his body, and she follows up with a second similar strike, but with even more force.

His sword out of the way, she combos into her own upwards slash. Craning his body back and stretching his tail out all the way for balance, the sword slides along the underside of his muzzle. In the process, it leaves a gouge in his tuxedo vest, and snaps the clasp of his mantle. Rolling that momentum into a backflip, he grabs the drapery as it falls away. In a fluid motion, he pitches it square at the face of the hellhound, and sheaths his cane. Crouching low to the ground, he sweeps by the blinded hound's right side, striking her elbow with his other weapon. In the next moment, he strikes again at the middle of her tail.

Loona howls in pain at the first strike. " Hrawooooo'ghh! Shit!" The swipe leaves her elbow completely numb, similar to his earlier assault on her knee but yet much worse. She drops her weapon as her arm loses all feeling, and it falls to the ground with a dull thunk. To make matters worse, the second strike elicits a similar round of pain. "Yiiieee~p!" Her tail tucks between her legs, feeling as though it was just slammed in a door. "Sonnova'bitch!" She curses again, as she fights to strip the black mantle from her face and reclaim her weapon.

Too late. The trickster has already laid claim to it and she catches the tail end of him hurtling it into the far mists of the woods. Retrievable, but he's not likely to give her the chance. "Admirably done, my dear. I commend you. Truly exhilarating." She finally gets a better look at his figure, without the comedic mantle draped around him. The reds of his fur shine in the flickering beams of light, his shoulders broad for his stature, and his arms slender but toned underneath the thick fur. She can see him panting with exertion, and on his face is a smile of excitement.

She finds herself licking her lips, hints of attraction tugging at the edge of her senses, before giving her head a shake, hair brushing against her cheek with the motion. She still needs to catch him and claim that stupid Sense-Feather for Stolas. And now, she's lost her armor and her weapon, bringing her almost back to square one. Her pride won't let her retreat again. Loona finds herself forced to admit it, "You're pretty good, yourself, Reynard. It's a shame you're such a pain in the ass."

"Beautiful Loona, you wound me so. I sought a hunt, and where is the fun in that without a sense of challenge?" He paces backwards a few steps, and then spins around on the tip of his paw. With his back turned, his extremely bushy tail sways in a lazy figure eight. His ears point backwards, directly at her. He makes a few more steps, receding further away from her, and taunts, "But with that challenge fading, it seems that the hunt is nearing its end."

Loona steps low and quiet, calling forth as much stealth as she can manage. Why is this fool turning his back on me? Does he think I'm useless without a weapon? She creeps closer, her quarry halted ahead. Reynard absently twirls the feather by its quill between his finger-tips. She finally reaches lunging distance, and with two long strides, she is behind him. With her third step, she moves to grab him with her gloved hands, and suddenly finds herself off-balance. At the same time, he ducks down, her hands only managing to grab his top hat.

Her paw slides forward in a patch of dewy mud, hidden by a pile of fallen leaves, and under something firm on the ground. A loud crash rumbles through the trees above, and around her legs closes her stolen rope. The slipknot pulled closed by the makeshift stake, it quickly tightens and the loop, hellhound included, soars into the sky. With the world now upside-down, she finds herself slowly spinning.

Her frustration leaves her at a loss for words, so she instead crushes the top hat, feather absent from its band, and as she comes around to face the trickster, she chucks it clean at his smug face. He clears his throat as the projectile bounces off of the top of his muzzle. "As I was saying..." he gestures in her general direction.