01.14.09 - Paradise Hunted
Location: Noonvale - Northern Road
Characters Involved: Omarr, Shar.
Omarr is quietly wandering his home, exploring mostly, since its been so long since he's been here. The mouse quietly thinks about many things as he walks down the road slowly, paws in his jacket. Since this is Noonvale, he figured weapons would not be needed tonight while he went on his walk.
- Noonvale is a lovely place to be. Warm climate for how far North it is, well protected and hidden by the thick forest and mists, danger always seems to be so far away. No one is ever really ind anger here... most times. But Noonvale isn't pristine, nor a perfect secret. There are some who know the way, some of dark heart but fortunately so greedy that they will not share it... because it is the perfect hunting ground. - The weather is warm, with only a little snow dusting the ground, slowly melting under the delightful weather. But on this path, there is no noise... and the distinct feeling of a watcher, somewhere out in the boughs and moss...
Omarr is for some reason Uneasy tonight. The mouse is blissfully unaware of anything that could be harmful to him...or anything else for that matter...nothing is there to him right now but he feels like...like death is watching...stalking him, watching his every move. Just that feeling alone makes him turn back...Lucky for him he wasn't really far away from the place he was staying...but what's the point of enjoying a calm walk if he feels like he could drop dead at any moment?
- Turning back was what saved the mouse's life. It all happens in the space between a heartbeat - Just as he turns something hisses past, just where he would have been with one more step and slams into the trunk of a tree just opposite with a decidedly terminal-sounding *THUD!* A short, fat arrow sticks out from the bark, nearly buried a quarter of the way into the tree's flesh, the quivering end of it dressed with black and white fletching, showing in the moonlight.
Omarr jumps about ten miles. As soon as he turns and spots the arrow, the mouse's heart gets filled with fear...so much for safe. Quickly, upon seeing the arrow, he glances to the house him and his love are staying at off in the distance. He makes a mad dash down the path, perhaps if he can get to his sword in time, he wont have a heart attack brought on by what ever attacked him.
- It is in the forest to the mouse's right, the sound of slithering branches and rustling bushes as something moves... and it isn't moving slow. From the corner of his eye he catches glimpses of a shape hurrying through the gloom, a flash of grey here, a glint of metal there as whatever it is crosses through the moonbeams filtering through the trees. Whatever it is, it is moving -fast-; slithering around trees, leaping bushes and logs - Moving with all the ease and speed of one who has lived in forests for a very long time. There are no shouts, no curses filtering through the flashing trees as the mouse pours on the speed... it chases in silence...
Omarr catches the movement and the Glint of metal and that just sends him running faster. Finally, he's running the hundred meter dash. And he's making the quickest run for his home. even just getting to the door would work, since his weapons are just to the inside of the door. "Go away! your Not welcome Here!" he shouts as he runs.
- Close, closer... Omarr is bounding up the steps and reaching for the door, right there. Behind him, something bursts from the foliage at a dead run, a grey cloak billowing around an equally grey rat. There's no reply to his shout, naught but a flash of light glinting from metal as a knife come hewing through the air, crossing over his shoulder and thudding into the door, six inches of steel knife sticking out of the wood.
Omarr jumps a bit as the Knife hits the door. he doesn't sop though. He pushes the door open and slams it shut, locking it, grabbing his long sword and dagger from behind the door. He quickly places his dagger and sword to his belt, going to gather what ever he can to block off the door before quickly stepping back, hoping the blockade and the lock does its job, but if not, his sword is back in his paw and he's ready to fight
- Silence greets him now. Only the thumping of his heart, of the blood pounding in his ears, of the breath heaving in his chest. Time seems to stretch into the infinite, each heartbeat seeming to take forever. It feels like an hour, two, but it is just half a moment. No sound. Then... the creak of wood under a footpaw, just beside the door, then another. The point of the thrown knife glints in the dim light inside the cottage... then wiggles a little as it is pulled from the other side.
Omarr watches...Watches. He can't believe that there's some beast who wants to kill another...in Noonvale...one of the most peaceful places in the lands. And right now, his sword is gripped so hard, his paw is hurting. "GO AWAY!" he shouts out. "YOUR NOT WELCOME HERE!" the mouse watches more. "IF YOU COME IN, I'LL KILL YOU!"
- The tip of the knife vanishes as it is pulled back out with a little crunching noise, wood splintering around it. It's too dark to be sure, but the mouse can feel an eye staring at him through the slit where the knife has pierced the door. There's another creak, then a rattle as the handle is tested... but there is no force on the door. At the threat all movement stops outside and time stretches on again, as if the rat beyond is taking time to consider this. Then a reply - It is a voice, for that is sure, but it is like there is no emotion in it, it is a monotone, closer to droning than actual speech, "Come outside then..." the floorboards creak as the rat moves off from the porch, then the deafening silence returns, choking and clostrophobic silence that buzzes in the ears.
Omarr slowly steps to the door and peers out through the window in the door. "Why? What do you want?" he calls out in a rather annoyed voice, the mouse glaring out at the rat before stepping back again.
- There's no reply, nothing answering but the whisper of a breeze through the tall pines beyond the walls of the cottage. Moonlight filters down through the dancing treelimbs, a macabre dance of shadow and light moving over everything, the night turning the rat invisible yet making every dark patch feel like a threat. Something starts scratching on the side wall...
Omarr hears the scratching before sighing. That rat probably wont go away unless He goes out there and kills her, or if she comes in here, and kills him..He's going to have a family to care for so he needs to make his choice..."If you can get in here yourself, you can have me!" he shouts out loudly...this is when he loves not having a back door or any real low windows in the home. When his speech is finished, quickly he starts gathering more things to the door pile...
- The scratching ends in short order, then silence prevails. Omarr is wary, but he isn't interrupted as he reinforces his barricade. It becomes strong enough he's sure to resist anything but a battering ram and a team of Otters, or the equivalent there of. Minutes start to pass...
Omarr sits on the stairs and waits...nothing...still nothing...maybe the rat's gone. Finally, he gets up and peers out the window of the door and looks around the dark for any rat figure.
- There is something outside, but it isn't the shadowy figure of that killer. It isn't even the shape is a beast. There is a bundle of something in the center of the path, not far from the door, like a small knot of cloth. It is night outside, but the moon is bright, and Omarr can see that it is brown... and there is a stain in the dirt around it, darker than the rest of the path. Bait for a trap...? Maybe not; in the distance, just rounding the curve in the path some two hundred yards away, he can see a grey-swathed figure walking away, rounding the corner and out of sight, leaving.
Omarr gulps softly...He pulls everything away from the door and heads out very slowly, gripping his long sword tightly as he goes to the bundle. He picks it up and goes to unwrap it to see what is inside it.
- A crossbow bolt in the chest there is not. No snarling grey form hurling itself onto him, no sudden fight to the death... just the breeze rustling the branches, the dead silence of the night and whatever that is. Omarr may change his mind about touching it when he gets close. The smell of blood is not subtle but filling his nose, and sword's length away he can see what it is. It is fur. Brown fur, and stained red with fresh blood. It isn't attached to anything, it's just... skin and fur. Part of a pelt hewn from some poor beast who was not so lucky as Omarr.
Omarr drops it and shouts. "Uhnh!" he cries out as he realizes what it is. And he looks up and about before feeling brave...He runs to the road again and glances out. "Come out and fight Rat! Dont be a coward!" he shouts loud as anything. he needs to kill the rat, or she'll hurt more...and he...would feel horrible if that happened.
- Omarr's words boil through the mist and trees, rage burning through it, promises of vengeance for those killed... but there's no answer, no appearance, no flash of grey or thrum of crossbow. Just quiet... but lights begin to rise behind him, back towards Noonvale where other beasts had heard his challenge and were waking to the commotion. The rat is gone.
Omarr eyes the area and shouts out. "SOMEBEAST GET HELP! QUICK!" he has no idea if she's gone for good, So he'd best get some beasts around for guards....He slides his sword to his belt and gives a sigh, heart slowly returning to normal before returning to the pelt he dropped.
- His cry is heard, and shouts begin to fill the night air as Noonvale is spurred back to life. Lanterns ignite and beasts armed with what few weapons they have begin to filter through the streets, the sound of footpaws coming up the path can be heard. Omarr focuses on the bloody skin, nothing more than a rag of fur, crudely cut. The fur is brown and spiny-looking... shrew, maybe?
Omarr falls to his knees just in front of the pelt. the mouse slowly picks it up and bursts into tears. He really hates murder and takes death harder than any beast. And he's just sobbing away.
- Beasts come jogging up the path, several warriors who have wandered the world beyond the vale. They slow as they see Omarr weeping over the bloody fur, forming a half-circle around the mouse, their faces set hard as they glance to one another, then out into the forest. Away, having left the trail long ago, the Hunter rat, Shar moves through the trees, sliding through the shadows with her Crossbow in hand, heading away from Noonvale. She had her chance, and missed... but such is hunting. She could always come back...
