Poisonous Fox

“W-why?!” Gregory shuddered.

He took a faltering step towards Larissen, his knife in one hand, and a glowing device in the other; some artificed object that I had seen him clutch from time to time. I assumed a weapon of some sort, but it could just have easily been a memento.

“It worked,” I said, before Larissen felt it necessary to resolve the situation with violence.

“Y-you murdered him!” Gregory retorted, spittle flying from his grimy lips. “He was a non-combatant. You should have protected him–us!”

“Agreed.” Muleater helped Ken find a comfortable position to recline, some distance from the corpses of the mikuya. I was unsure if Muleater was agreeing with Gregory or with us, but considering that Gregory was a fellow human, I knew which way I was betting. Apparently, I was not the only one that assumed such.

“Was this one expected to lay down his own life?” Larissen hissed at Muleater.

If I said nothing, it appeared we would devolve into a conflict amongst ourselves. Obviously, I intervened.

“The smoke won’t block the passage for long,” I said, reminding them all of the real issue. “We can discuss while we move. Make the caravan master’s sacrifice worthwhile.”

Gregory scoffed. “Sacrifice? That’s rich.” He crossed his arms and glared at me, while Kate chewed on her lower lip in indecision. She glanced towards her aunt for a cue. Muleater, meanwhile, appeared torn.

“The respite may not last long, but Ken is in no shape to move,” Muleater said.

Ken coughed, drawing all attention back to him where he leaned against a wall.

“Go,” he said, coughing again.

Kate protested, “We aren’t leaving you behind–”

“Can–can’t–save–” he broke off into another raspy cough.

Muleater sighed and pinched her brow. “Gods take it Ken! We aren’t leaving you behind!”

“No… choice,” he gasped.

A tear worked its way down Kate’s cheek as she looked forlornly at Ken and his lacerated ribs.

Ken coughed again, this time blood spilling from his mouth.

I could have rushed us further, but there was a familial tension here. While I was unsure of it exactly, I knew that Ken and Janet were somehow related, either cousins or half siblings, and that Kate considered both of them as family. And now Ken was on his way out.

But as the moment continued, I grew restless, along with Larissen, and even Gregory. Fortunately Larissen could read a room, and he held his peace, although he did fidget. It was Gregory that hurried us onward, thus drawing the ire onto himself.

“We don’t know how long the alchemics will last before the creatures give chase,” Gregory said. “We need to go.”

“I’m not leaving one of my own behind!” Muleater snarled at Gregory, before stopping herself, taking a breath, and closing her eyes.

“I apologize if this is blunt, but were you not sworn to protect us?” Gregory asked, sounding hardly apologetic at all.

“L-leave!” Ken coughed again, hardly getting the word out. He took a gasping, wheezing breath, and somehow found the strength to utter, “Give. Blayed.”

I was unsure what that word meant. Blayed. I would ask later and learn it is an older word inherited by the Midden Empire to represent glory. The nation had a proud martial history.

“Ken…” Muleater said, before pausing. “That… I…”

Gregory went to open his mouth again, but he finally noticed the glare Kate was sending his way. Larissen and I remained aloof from the rest.

“Please,” Ken coughed. “...blayed…”

Muleater grimaced, then nodded lightly. “Always were the stubborn one,” she said.

He chuckled, more of a cough and a wince, but I thought it was meant to be a chuckle. Blood dribbled down the side of his chin. “No. You. Rem–” he coughed “-member you ‘n the hearh?”

Another word. Hearh. From the context, I could not derive its meaning.

“It has to be down there somewhere!” Muleater returned his laugh, her grim lips curling up just slightly. “You ready?”

Ken closed his eyes and nodded, before opening them as wide as they would go and looking up at Muleater’s face.

“Dreor bana…” Ken led off, wheezing several gasps before desperately finishing, “ak blayed.”

Muleater repeated grimly. “Then dreor bana ak blayed.”

As she finished speaking, she slid her dagger across Ken’s throat, cutting deep.

I gasped softly from surprise. I had not expected that.

Despite the mortal wound, and the likely pain, Ken kept his eyes wide open, maintaining a vigilant stare as blood spurted out.

Gregory’s face paled at the sight of the copious blood.

Kate watched on grimly.

Larissen appeared disinterested.

And Ken breathed his last with a gurgling gasp. Muleater remained over him for seconds more, before rising and turning towards us, or towards the only way out. Along the way, Muleater passed Kate, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Your uncle died well,” Muleater said.

Kate nodded, but said no more.

Muleater pointedly ignored Gregory as she passed, and instead she glanced at me. Her lip twisted in the start of a sneer. “Better have died today, and a crippled kundeor is still among us.” She spat at my feet, then kept going. “Keep up, or don’t. But never slow us down, or it will be my blade you taste.”

I was flagging behind.

My wounds left me weak, and my weakness left me unable to keep up with the others. I had gone from getting carried to walking. I thought of pressing Kate to hoist me along as she did before, but given her dark visage, I thought perhaps asking would prove unwise. Larissen might have aided me, but he needed his claws free and out, should the humans betray us, or the Jungleborn come upon us quickly.

The canyon we moved through was not opening up, if anything, it appeared to be descending the further along we went. This was perhaps my only saving grace. If our journey was uphill instead, I would rather not think on it.

We had been traveling for the better part of an hour. The alchemical barrier must have fallen by that point. We expected the Jungleborn to set themselves upon us at any moment. This made the rearmost position tricky.

We needed a defensive, a, a deterrent, should the Jungleborn attack.

Trackless Tracks: 8/9 (+1)

I offered, as I was traveling towards the back anyways. Larissen volunteered the second he saw me do so. But Muleater refused, claiming she would rather someone she trusted at her back, or even the mikuya, who she would at least trust to strike her down, rather than Larissen who had already proven treacherous.

I protested that assertion of course. The Caravan Master had been dead weight, and now he was dead. Not that I said that, of course. Given the fact I was the definition of dead weight, I truly did not wish any comparison made. So as it was, Larissen and I were the vanguard.

Which again, made little sense, except in a paranoid sort of way.

If we kept ahead, then any trap or unstable footing would be spent upon us. If we kept ahead, then they could keep eyes upon us.

But the problem was that I could not match their pace, not for long; my endurance was nonexistent. My energy had been exhausted. Each step became a challenge. I could only keep pressing on, knowing that failure would be worse than being left behind. For being left behind was a tolerable solution; the Jungleborn had spared me before, I thought they would do so again. No, the problem was that Muleater would just as quickly slit my throat, or Larissens’, to deliver justice–the only reason she resisted was our dire circumstances. And, I suspect, that Larissen served as a disposable vanguard.

Another step.

Then another.

I stumbled, and Larissen steadied me. He was in poor shape himself from the earlier skirmish. There was little to no lichen this deep in the canyon–that was further up the walls, near where light was present. We were in the gloom, but even in the dark, I could see the wet tears across his chest and derriere.

Another step. I could do this. We were descending. Downhill. My foot clipped a loose rock. Another stumble.

I caught myself on the wall. I was delayed momentarily. Too long.

“What’s the hold up?!” Gregory asked. “Kate, put your pet in its place!”

“Not her pet,” I muttered, putting myself back on my feet. Larissen had slowed beside me, his claws were out, and he hissed backwards, with his tail poofed.

“If you have energy to argue, then you can march,” Muleater said sternly.

I tried finding support from the only human that was sympathetic, and I glanced towards Kate. But unlike her normal self, Kate remained quiet, glowering at Larissen and I.

Was she blaming us? It seemed that way.

Though it was not our fault her uncle had perished. But from her point of view, we likely contributed to his demise.

This would be a tricky one; if I wanted to preserve her as an ally, I would need to exercise extreme caution. Were I to continually remind her of her uncle, or remain near her as she continued dwelling on the recent loss, there existed a significant chance that the connection between myself and his death would increase, at least in her own mind. That would lead to a festering pit of hate if left unabated.

But it was not as though I could simply tell her that I had nothing to do with his death, even though it truly was the mikuya who were to blame. Afterall, decrying a fact often actually cemented that very same fact, regardless of the fact’s veracity.

What I needed to do was distract her, or focus her upon something other.

Perhaps Larissen. Though that would mean betrayal of another ally, and one arguable more valuable to my continued survival than Kate.

Another step, then another.

“Regret the decision to join with the humans yet?” Larissen asked me under his breath.

A good question. While the humans had some supplies, currently we were just shy of walking at knifepoint. It would not have been impossible for Larissen and I to survive without them. But after wandering the wastes in all bleakness for so long, the thought of going back to that near solitude, even if Larissen was there, left me shivering and suffering a deep seated sense of unease.

Wishing for distractions for Kate, I discovered one. Not that I brought it up immediately.

Behind us, echoing along the canyon walls, there was a faint clicking, like many high tension wires catching along themselves in a storm. I knew that sound. I had come to loathe it. The mikuya. It appeared they had made it past the alchemical smokes.

Larissen’s ears perked, a sign that he heard as well. He and I shared silent glances. Despite his age, he deferred to my judgment on informing the humans. Which was unfortunate. Because if he was the one that alerted the humans, then Kate would be more likely to associate him with her uncle’s demise than me. Afterall, he would be one step closer to the concept of the mikuya, at least in the minds of humans' minds.

Even as I thought this, I felt ashamed and I castigated myself. Larissen was an ally. But there were several practical reasons for delaying the alarm. Mainly, that I was already traveling as quickly as I could. And should the humans have time to consider their hasty retreat, things might just go very poorly for myself. Especially if I was unable to keep up. Muleater had been very explicit with her threats.

I decided that it would be better to wait, until either we knew what the mikuya planned, or until they came too close for the humans to initiate an orderly retreat.

More steps, and with each one, it grew more difficult to take the next. My feet ached. I kept catching my toes on the uneven ground. I kept stumbling. And Gregory continued his campaign to end me. What a petty person that he was.

The clicking continued to echo faintly, not loud enough for unenhanced hearing, and not overly increasing in volume. It remained constant, neither approaching nor falling behind.

“Tailing us,” I said in Kaivan, a breathy whisper through dry and chapped lips.

“But why?” Larissen asked.

But why indeed, I wondered.

We continued to discuss why this may be. Perhaps they were herding us. They might be waiting for us to break. They might be leisurely following our trail. In the end, we thought it most likely that they were ensuring we did not escape the way we had come. Though as we had yet to find another side passage, that caution seemed unlikely. Unless they did not know. Too many unknowns.

“Speak imperial already!” Gregory seethed from behind us. “What are you two hissing about? More treachery? Ways to slow us down further?”

“Be quiet,” Muleater ordered, her voice lacking all patience and sounding somewhat ragged. We continued walking in silence, Muleater lingering further behind. Until she heard it. She must have. She hastened up towards the front. “We’re being followed,” she claimed.

The volume of the high tension wire-like tendrils had not increased significantly. But it must have been enough. I kept forgetting that the humans potentially had enhanced senses. I absolutely needed to remember that. In this case, it would look bad if–

“How do you know?” Gregory asked, at the same time Kate asked, “How far?”

Muleater gestured to her ears behind her grime covered hair.

“And why did our animals not hear them before now?” Gregory asked, with extra derogatory in his inflection. “Do they not have keener senses?”

“A question that needs answering.” Muleater was moving her way towards the front now, towards us. Noticeably, her hand on her hilt, her countenance prepared for combat. Which should have had her facing the opposite direction, not towards us.

Why had Gregory had to have opened his mouth? And now Kate was turning her focus onto us; this was having the opposite effect in social manipulation than I had planned. While I considered how to resolve this positively, Larissen mistook my delay as inability, and he answered on our behalf, without my consent.

“It is difficult to hear from the front, especially over your racket,” Larissen said through his thick accent.

That was a good counterpoint. False, of course, but plausible. I wished I had thought of that. My fatigue must have been hampering my rational thought. We needed a rest–I really needed a rest.

“Hm.” Muleater reached the front, besides us. We had momentarily paused in our journey, all of us focused upon her. “I don’t believe you.”

“What purpose would deceit serve?” Larissen asked.

“Covering a betrayal.” Muleater bit out.

“Do you deny our persecution by the wyrkwik alongside you?” I asked, picking my way over the questions carefully and using the humans’ term for the mikuya. If I asked her ‘why would we,’ she would rack her mind for a motivation that would justify our betrayal, further cementing the erroneous notion within her mind. The same would occur if we outright denied it. Rather, I redirected her attention towards the facts. At least one interpretation of them.

“We have suffered as well,” I said. “Perhaps you don’t value our lives, but we do. Two of our members have been killed.”

“And many more of ours?” She demanded. “However, your circumstances have improved, ours have worsened.”

“All of our circumstances have worsened,” I said. “Unless starvation and worse are boons?”

“Words.” She scoffed, and shouldered past me. “Everyone, doubletime.”

I was thankful that she refrained from slitting my throat. But despite that gratitude, I could not help but utter, “Now you trust us at your back?” unable to resist needling.

Another piece of evidence of my deteriorating control. The filter between my mind and mouth was worsening. But there was no way I could keep up with them, not if they increased the pace. What was best case would be getting left forgotten by them. Yet my mouth rebelled, or my mind did.

“Trust, no.” She barked a quick and mean laugh. Gregory pushed back us, then Kate. Though Kate did spare me a concerned glance as she moved.

“Why leave them behind us then?” Kate asked.

“I see no way for them to betray us now. Not with the wyrkwik approaching from behind. If they are true to their word, then perhaps they can buy us a moment longer to escape.”

“Then should we not cripple them first?” Gregory asked, with a malicious tone.

Kate kept silent. And that silence, while not unexpected, stung like the betrayal it was.

“No need,” Muleater said, after moments of consideration. The humans had pulled away now, despite Larissen and I continuing at the same pace. “The male won’t leave his young behind–they are already handicapped. And at least this way they can last a bit longer.”

I thought of calling out to them, for them to leave us at least some rations, but there was no point.

“For the best, this one thinks,” Larissen consoled me. “Now to find diverging paths to escape the mikuya.”

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism (3/9):

Climbing I (1/9)

Featherlight (5/9)

Stealth I (4/9)

Trackless Tracks (8/9) (+1)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver (1/9)

Evasion (5/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (6/9)

Closed

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)