Therian Dreaming II - New Begininings - Chapter 18 - Part One -
Story by Cederwyn Whitefurr on SoFurry
A hunt begins - between sworn blood-enemies - Therian vs Werewolf...
Therian Dreaming II
Chapter Eighteen
© Cederwyn Whitefurr
6th May 2023
All Rights Reserved.
Pete shuddered, he'd laid awake all night, consumed with fear and doubt about his ability to defend his lover – and their fawn. Kelsie had been restless, somehow, her dreams invading Fawnie's mind as they both slept fitfully. He did not know, could not know – when and how their blood-enemy would be unleashed...
Glancing at the clock, the first rays of the new dawn cresting the distant mountains, Pete shivered and flicked an ear.
5:22 AM
Rising on stiff, aching legs, having laid on them all night, Pete forced himself to walk from the bedroom, his cloven hooves clicking and clattering with each step. At the door, Pete froze, his heart skipping a beat as he trembled helplessly.
Stop being a Fawn, His inner darkness growled at him. I'd smell a Hunter lying in wait – you really think, they'd not want to look into your black, soulless eyes as you lay on the ground, bleeding out and helpless? How they'd take the cowardly way out and lay in camouflage and shoot you the second you stepped out onto the porch?
Pete shuddered at the picture that was brought to his mind.
“I know they...” Pete's voice broke, as he heard something out of his worst nightmares...
A Wolf's howl...
*
Instantly, Pete's inner Therian not only come forward – but took him over completely. There was no warning, no chance to resist it just consumed him – his eyes went ink-black and his hackles raised from the tip of his tail to the base of his ears. He heard Kelsie's moan, then her own clattering hoof-beats as she rushed down beside him, her own eyes an inky, jet black the same as his. As the two Therians exchanged looks, something passed between them, before Kelsie bolted right and Pete fled left, both disappearing into the forest that bordered their home. Only one beast would emerge victorious from the forests – and the Therian's on their home territory, we certain, it would be them...
*
“Delta Four to base, the package has been delivered to the specified sector, tracking package now...” Spoke a masked, camouflaged man as he looked down at the tablet he held in one hand, the overflight of a drone providing the transmitter collar signal to be intercepted.
“Delta four, acknowledged.” Come the reply, before their radio went silent.
“Fuck, that beast is fast - “ spoke the man with the tablet. “Think it has any real idea? Getting that slut of a Therian deer was trouble enough – still – not a half bit of fun, before she died – you get a turn with her?”
His companion snickered. “Not my thing, I'm not into beasts – especially ones that look like Faline; but can speak...I heard her screams from the other side of the prison – serves her right, everything she got and...”
He trailed off, something making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Ever so gently, he reached for his holstered Glock at his hip. Fast, he drew and aimed – at nothing – before he shuddered and lowered his pistol.
“Christ on a chariot - “ Gasped the Hunter with the tablet. “Scared me half to death! What are you trying to do – get yourself targeted? Concentrate on what we're doing and...”
Both drew almost simultaneously, standing back to back, as a shrub rustled and a Deer suddenly bleated in terror, then took off, its white tail flashing.
“That better not have been - “Stammered the second operative.
“If it had been – one of us would be dead... Now god damn it, focus! There's two of them, you know from our training, how well they fight and move, it's not the one in front of you, you need to truly fear – most of the time...”
“Wait – you think...no, they wouldn't...”
With an exasperated sigh, the first Operative glared at the second, before he turned to face him.
“What!”
“Check the tablet – if I'm not mistaken, there are four heat signatures. Should be the two beasts – and our puppy... Ours are masked, so – why – is there another one in the house? As well as one about a half click south-west...”
Snatching up the tablet, the first Operative used two fingers to scroll the map into a larger overview – seeing what he'd missed the first time.
“House signature isn't moving – its barely even registering... Beasts don't have pets, so...”
With a malicious grin, the second Operative snickered. “You know what I am thinking? She's a Doe, he's a turned human... That heat signature... can only mean one thing... These two have themselves a fawn...”
*
Kelsie crept like a wraith through the woods, her nostrils flaring and scenting the air as she felt an involuntary shiver ripple through her. Her senses were as sharp and alert as they could be. Crossing and recrossing her path, Kelsie tracked, mindful of the slightest scent or movement, yet there was an annoying whining sound – high-pitched and painful to her sensitive hearing. It would grow and fade, then grow again – the sound of it giving her a skull-thumping headache.
*
Pete's ear flicked at the same sound, his Therian within him trying to block it out, ignore it, as he himself sniffed the air and frowned. Were's weren't the smartest – instinctively, his Therian knew it... Pete paused mid-step, his Therian's heightened senses detecting something – strong, musky – then the scent of a smell it knew intimately...
Blood...
Slowly, like his head was made of reinforced steel, Pete's head turned to the right, his nostrils flaring as he smelt the oak tree, then his eyes narrowed as he saw the smear of blood. Tasting it, his eyes went wide and his ears flat.
Therian's blood...
His heart leaped up into his muzzle, his inner Therian nearly exploding into pure, animalistic rage, before it mentally shuddered and forced itself to focus.
Not my mate's blood – old blood, Therian, yes, Deer, Whitetail...whose?
It didn't know – but it had the scent of the wolf mixed through it, a scent Pete's Therian locked down tight in the forefront of its mind...
Pete's Therian began to hunt...
*
Patrick, code name Sierra, sat in a tall pine tree, lashed there with strong leather bindings, large clawed boots on his feet, helping him grip the trunk. In his hands, he held a powerful AR-10, loaded with a drum fed magazine of silver-tipped .308 caliber bullets. His senses were on high alert, as he scanned the edges of the clearing over which he held over-watch. As he heard that buzzing sound, his eyes narrowed and he looked up, squinting into the early morning light.
“Those fucking bastards...” Patrick growled, as he caught the hint of a sky-blue painted drone as it closed in. “I should have known...”
Raising his silenced rifle, Patrick adjusted as best he could with his scope – taking a guess more than accurate distance, windage, and range. His first few shots were short – and he snarled and upped the range, before clicking the scope forward three notches to zoom it in.
Looking through it, the drone filled the crosshairs...
Taking a deep breath, Patrick exhaled and counted to three, leading the drone...
“Bastards...” Patrick growled, then squeezed the trigger...
*
“Fuck...” Snarled the first Operative. “Something took out the drone – we're blind now!”
“Fuck the drone - “ Snickered the second. “This promises to be more fun... What idiot leaves their child unprotected? Let the puppy hunt them - we'll go find ourselves a plaything of our own – one frightened bleat out of it – and they'll be meek as newborn kittens...”
Stuffing the now useless tablet into his vest, the first Operative grinned.
“It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel...”
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART II