(FYI, I haven't Finished The character sheet yet either.) THE young red-headed girl sent up a wave of sand and gravel as she stumbled across the earthy forest. Scarlet blood sprayed everywhere, staining everything and anything it encountered. The severe wound was ripped open and fleshy, sending a sharp arrow of pain through her thigh. The exposed muscles and tissues seared like wildfire, screaming with such a scorching burn, the girl couldn’t help but wobble or limp!
Her cheeks glistened with tears and sweat for both dread and weariness crawled up her spine. She slowed her pace, sides heaving heavily. Her hot steamy breath turned into a thick, ghostly vapor in the wintry air.
“Kitsune!”
Kitsune gasped, whipping her head over her shoulder. Frozen, her heart turned to ice and her blood seemed to frost over. “I-I can’t go on . . . for-forever,” she breathed, starting back into her gawky, ungraceful sprint.
A chorus of stampeding feet and the clank of weapons brushing against each other suddenly burst through the air, along with a few energized screams and yowls. The zealous cries rang so loud, the girl thought for sure she went deaf, but a deep menacing bellow confirmed she didn’t.
“Come back here you eavesdropping brat!” howled a hideous, white haired man whose face and neck were thoroughly scarred, layer upon layer, from generations of war. His right wrist was terrifyingly twisted to the point where the bone connecting hand and arm was revealed from under the skin. “You can’t escape us!”
The men behind him were even more gruesome, each individual carrying an imperfection of there own. One man, broad shouldered and pensive, had a sharpened bone jolting from one of his eye sockets, and another, more scrawny and pale, was missing both ears. All of them had shoulder armor lined with spikes and cougar teeth, and chest plates that were splattered with dry blood.
Like malicious shadows, they began to creep up on Kitsune, grim and bloodthirsty. She struggled to keep her pace, every sprint an effort. The huge metal talon that clenched to her back, two of the four claws arching over her shoulders, weighed her down. She wanted to rip it off, along with her silver knee-to-ankle protector, but they were most precious to her and her long gone father. The images of his death kept her going, fueling her from collapsing. Her brain swirled with blood-mist and chewed open chests, each body piled on one-another.
I . . . I’m stronger than my brothers, swifter than my older sisters . . . I am a born survivor . . . she repeated to herself, diminutive tears percolating down her face. She took hold of her wolf-claw sword and slid it from its sheath. The sharp claws built onto the metallic blade glistened in the sun like wet pebbles relaxing on the riverbank.
Skidding to a halt, Kitsune raised her weapon, weary and out of breath. “If you want me so badly, than come and get me!” she spat, scornfully. “But I’m not going down without a fight!” She clenched her teeth, scrutinizing the gang with strong, unforgiving eyes.
An old, pruny woman stepped forward, the wind jerking at her black and white silk kimono. “Oh Kitsune, you would’ve had a better chance running away like the frightened rabbit you are,” she shrieked. Her voice was an ear-splitting squeal, cracking when she smiled. “You’re a worthless scrap in my eyes,” she added, and stalked off.
“You're a warty pig in mine,” Kitsune whispered to herself, a hint of amusement quivering in her throat. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck, ready for a bloodbath. “I am Kitsune, sister of four, daughter of Okami and Kiba, honored pupil of Mizutribe: the tribe of white raindrops!” She announced the ‘Know your Enemy’ cry, a rule in which if battle is proclaimed or broke between two tribes, the chiefs of two groups are, by law, to state there family history and home tribe, or in this case, leader and single-handed warrior.
Waru cleared his throat ad glared at his attacker impressed by her knowledge and strong will. His white wolf-pelt coverage was a fallen star compared to the old sheets of metal his men wore. It was a glowing speck silhouetted against the beaming night sky. "I am Waru, brother of one son of flesh and Tsuki, chief of Kurotribe: the tribe of malicious secrets," he stated, brewing an eerie evil laugh. "But I promise you, you'll be a pile of blood and bones before you know it."
A heart-freezing silence sliced through the clearing like bear claws through prey. Kitsune's heart hammered her chest so fiercely it ought to burst! The roaring anxiety that washed over her made her feel feeble and frightened, making her yearn for a lush deer pelt to curl into and softly sob, but she knew that comfort was far off. She needed to be brave, now. Now was the time to show this murderous hog to never underestimate her! A warm sense of pride gnawed within her blood and she suddenly remembered she obtained her father’s skills! She smiled for, once in an agonizing while, she felt hearty, and nothing could stand in her way. She gave a contemptuous groan and sprinted forward.
A wave of soldiers lunged for her, faces blank no regrets. There stench was gag-worthy, musky, and overpowering, yet Kitsune managed to keep a steady mind and pace. They reeked of maggots and skunk carcass, and even death, but no matter how much she inhaled the foul smells, her stomach never churned. Swinging her elegant blade with swift strides, she conflicted damage within each blow.
Dodging a perfectly constructed spear, she managed to hurl herself and shoulder the middle aged lady, whom was taunting her off the battle field, knocking her to the ground. Kitsune lifted her blade and clenched it with two hands, ready to end the witches life. I can’t kill Waru, for he’s too powerful, but this witch is good enough . . .
“Maruchi, no. . .” Kitsune heard Waru’s howling plead, but ignored it, for all of her concentration was essential.
A searing blaze suddenly jolted up her arm and raked her ribcage. She slammed into the nearly frozen earth, face first, with a thud. She gripped her wolf-claw sword tighter, for the last thing she wanted was to lose her only defense, but her arm became fingers became numb and uncoiled themselves. Her entire arm went limp and laid on the cold soil beginning to prickle as the rush of abhorrence slinked through her veins. Is this the end? She thought. How disappointed my father probably is. . . He’ll never welcome me under Tenshi’s wing . . . At least, not as his daughter. . .
Waru stood above her, glowering. He glared at her, solemnly, with distant, misty eyes. They held blood shedding tales that sent hailstones up your back and made your lungs scorch with lack of breath. Red tedious clouds seemed to skim across his pupils as a darkened sea roared beneath them, lithe, somber creatures sinking under waves. “You’re quite the apprentice Kitsune,” he coughed, taking her by the neck of her breast plate. “That makes me absolutely furious!” He shoved her face into a mound of slushy mud. “You killed five of my men, and nearly butchered my wife like she was a wild boar!”
Beyond the feeling of betrayal, anger convulsed in Kitsune’s belly, nearly making her vomit. She twisted her one good shoulder and rammed it into Waru's gut, taking him aback. She, gawkily, staggered to her feet, trying to catch her breath. Her sides ached terribly and her arms felt as if they were shattering into shards of glass. Like white cracks of lightning her legs every other second, would shudder and a ripple of shock through her entire body. Muck dribbled down her forehead. Multiple cuts stung on her cheeks and chin, along with some gushing wounds. She slowly jerked her head and gaped at her temporarily paralyzed arm. She lifted a quivering hand and locked her fingers around the deep gash. Waru must’ve stabbed me with that loathsome deformity of his. . . Kitsune thought, picking up her sword. but before she raced into the heart of battle, she cleaved a piece of her long, white feather-thread skirt and draped it over her arm injury. “You killed my father in cold-blooded murder! You and your loathsome, pig-faced wife deserve to be slaughtered!” Her eyes began to swell as tears flooded them. Faint whimpers clogged her throat choking her if she tried to speak.
Giving her sword a good twirl, she planted her feet into the loose soil. Father, if you still accept me as your daughter, you’ll make sure I’ll survive. . . She sprang into a flurry of glistening spears and broken cougar-fang daggers whose thorn sharp edges pierced the sky like somber fangs. The warrior cry she wailed was fierce, it was deep, far within her lungs and it seemed to darken as rage overtook.
“Okami was destined to die, so was his rat clawed child!” Maruchi screeched, her voice crackling like twigs scorched in tongues of fire. The old witch’s eyes glistened with dim, milky light that streamed from the rising moon. She stood far from the battle field, collecting some leaves and stuffing them into her kimono sleeve.
Kitsune whipped her radiant weapon from side to side with smooth movements. Spears and swords bounced off her breast plate and eagle talon that clasped to her back, reducing her amount of injuries. “You’re finished!” she cried, ebbing her way towards the witch. Raising her blade, she slashed at Maruchi, but unfortunately missed. The repulsive hog-faced woman slid out a sharpened leg bone from her sleeve.
Usually, this type of weapon was used in training within tribe grounds but Kitsune took a guess that the witchy lady had no interest in high quality weaponry and specialized in herbs and brewery.
“Too bad your potions won’t help you now,” Kitsune laughed. She lunged for Maruchi’s chest with an accurate eye and thrusted her sword. Revenge and grief smoldered in her tightening stomach as the images of her father’s death clung to her brain once more. Father, look upon this moment as my forgiveness. I have succumbed to my fear of dieing before your murderer felt pain . . . she thought. Waru I hope your heart fractures the same way your love’s does!
“Oof-” Suddenly tumbling and flipping in a wild mess of bruises, Kitsune slid across the dirt, tiny sword-shard rocks contacting her skin. She gazed at a robust child, staring in astonishment at his stocky shoulders. His muscles rippled over his bones like waves over smooth granite boulders. The boy was fierce, evil in some ways, dressed in red feather-thread shorts and a black bear fur vest that ruffled in the shortened breezes.
“I am Hiyake, brother and son of the unknown, proud apprentice of Kurotribe: the tribe of malicious secrets,” he announced, pointing an accusing finger in Kitsune’s direction. “And I challenge you to one-to-one combat!” A single grey feather whipped his cheek, a symbol of honor and apprenticeship, in the rising wind.
Taken aback, Kitsune gasped. “This child must be mental or something!” she whispered to herself. “He saw what I could do with a sword, I killed eight of his tribe members . . . nearly all of the one’s here.” She dusted off her torn skirt knowing it would probably become filthy again. She just wanted to buy some time. “Hiyake, you’re so young. A fourteen year old like you can’t even-”
“Can’t even what? Slaughter a Mizutribe member?” Hiyake snarled eyes flaring. He tightened his fingers, creating secured fists. “I may be much smaller than you, a mere mouse compared to you even, but that doesn’t mean I’m feeble. That doesn’t mean I’m frail!”
Kitsune winced, for the boys voice obtained a harsh sting. She noticed his teeth every separate one sharpened. “I didn’t mean it like that! But I’m more of a pupil than- than you are. Nearly a soldier!” She searched for the right words and dropped her sword. “I can’t hurt someone so inexperienced to the world. You have so much more to see.”
Hiyake snorted soot and breathed fire as anger swathed in his eyes. “You don’t understand, do you?” He beamed at the ground, smirking. “I’m more powerful than you’ll ever be. I feed on your agony and re-hydrate on your tears.” He jerked his head, upward, and sneered, “You’re the lonely, banged up, runt!” He sprang into action, reopening his hands to a dreadful clutch.
Crouching, Kitsune scooped up her sword and rolled over, dodging the threatening grasp. Her jaw dropped. Th-that’s impossible! she thought, eyes wide open. “B-b-bear cl-cl-claws. . ,” she stammered.
“Heh heh, you scared?” Hiyake raised a hand and rubbed his fingers together. The long, black claws he had slipped over his nails clanked against each other in a rhythmic pattern.
"How-where . . . where did you get those?" Kitsune breathed. An apprentice, soldier, shaman, witch or any other member of a tribe could used weapons and armor that they, or other pure-blooded relative, had forged, along with the materials they used. She couldn't picture this young boy bringing down a black bear, nonetheless slaying a grizzly. The black fur vest and tooth studded choker sent heat waves through her body, but the grizzly claws that concealed his natural nails nearly made her puke. A fourteen year old, bringing down five hundred pounds of beast by himself? Preposterous! "No one could've gave them to him, he stated he hadn't known his family, but then again, Kurotribe does break all of the rules," Kitsune grumbled to herself.
"I earned them, unlike the hideous slices of metal you have tossed on," Hiyake snorted, digging his feet in the gravel. "And now, I'm gonna earn myself that second feather!” Sprinting, he lunged at Kitsune with outstretched arms, ready to dodge if need be. He sunk his claws and fangs into her flesh showing no signs of letting go.
Kitsune squealed. “You bag of bear guts . . .” she cursed, using the butt of her sword to pry him off. She managed to shove the bottom of her weapon under his top teeth and lift, but his lower jaw stabbed deeper into her skin, and when she had the chance to shove the boy away, his latched fangs skimmed her arm, tearing off a major chunk of tissue. “Grraaahh!” The drumming pulse of her thigh injury was now a mere scratch compared to the agitated agony gnawing at her limb.
Hiyake stumbled backwards, but caught himself and stood straight. “Poor Kitsune,” he teased, wiping away the blood that stained his face. “You’re name is quite pretty. Kitsune . . . it means fox in The Ancient Language, Tenshi’s Words, no? Too bad an idiotic father wasted it on an appalling, wretched creature like you! He was probably a rat-gut of a father. Hmph, serves him right he’s dead! He probably wanted to die, knowing his daughter was a failure!”
Heart daunted with disbelief, Kitsune stood her ground and taunted back, even though she knew it was wrong, but the bleeding scars of her father weakened, loosening until all gave way and her mind flooded, flooded with treacherous faces and uncovered bones. “I cannot forget, Hiyake is still part of Kurotribe. He’s one of them.” The clots of anxiety and wrath that wept in her belly tightened. She couldn’t stand it no longer. I killed nearly of the men Waru bestowed against me, this child is a mere test. “You and your hog-blooded tribe think you’re so tough? Ha!” She laughed, angrily and continued. “Than explain to me why your parents, Hiyake, forsaken you like you were witched? I know why. They didn’t want to waste precious materials on a runt, so they abandoned you, hoping coyotes would maul your arms and feet off!” She mustered another silent luagh. No one talks about my father, but me, even if he doesn‘t accept me as his child . . . “Your parents are probably chuckling at a pile of guts right now, chattering on how they imagined it was yours!”
Hiyake showed no serious expression, only a simple frown. “I’m going to rip your face off,” he groaned. He spewed on the ground with ignorance and bolted. “Literally!”
Kitsune weaved from side to side, leaping off foot-sized rocks. Once the blonde haired boy came into range, she hopped to the right and seized his wrist. She swung onto his back and pinned him down.
Irrational, Hiyake was taken aback by how much this bony girl weighed. I never knew an eighteen year old woman could feel as heavy as an elk on a bear! he thought, frustrated. He squirmed, scratching at the dirt. The surviving men that huddled around Waru gripped their weapons, ready to shed blood, but Hiyake gave them a blinding stare. Zeal and sovereignty clouded his eyes as he managed to forge a bit of courage. “Go on, use that cheap sword of yours and finish me. Your father could actually be proud of his offspring for once . . .”
The remark he had made provoked Kitsune, making her think killing this sorry excuse of a pupil would make her day, but she pushed that thought aside. “You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” she whispered to herself. “You’re just looking for trouble.” She gave a tug on his hair so his face wouldn’t become numb on the thin sheet of frost that crawled over the grass. “I’m not murdering a child. No, I’ve got a heart. I want to make a proposition.” She knew the words she was about to spill were sickly, but she had no other choice. Hiyake’s muscular form could become essential with her escape. “If you help me fight your tribe-mates. I’ll persuade my tribe to take you in as a full soldier, a warrior.”
Waru and the rest of his men choked in astonishment at her offer, but fell silent, for the horrifying tang in Hiyake’s voice startled them. “How dare you bribe me of my tribe?’ he rumbled. “Disgusting!” Driving his claws into the dirt, he used all of his brute strength to lift himself. Once in an awkward sit, he quickly swathed his fingers around Kitsune’s arm and heaved her over his shoulder. There was a peculiar cracking of stones and bones, and a fracturing echo. Hiyake clasped her wolf-claw sword between his mud scraped hands, giving it a few amateurish swings. “Should we kill her now Waru, sir?” He smiled, full of pride.
Putting a hand on Hiyake’s shoulder, Waru, to, grinned. “No. We need her remember? She holds fragile information,” he responded. “She could be the code to our power. But if the fox-headed girl doesn’t cooperate, I’ll give you the honors of slaying her, considering you’re now a memorable soldier of Kurotribe. When we get the chance, I’ll consider giving you the feather of your choice, and you can start your nocturnal-raid.”
Kitsune began to panic. Why can’t I move? I can’t move, I can’t move! She groaned, dazed. Everything had flashed. One moment, she was being sweet, offering an obnoxious child a life changer, and the next, a searing agony scorching up her back. She turned her head and saw jaws moving. Another alarm pierced her. I can’t hear! What if they’re plotting on suffering me? Sweet Tenshi help me! She cursed at herself for being a fool. How could I lose to a fourteen year old? Stupid, stupid! He’s part of Kurotribe, the most ambitious tribe there is, his life is tainted forever! Idiot, idiot! She screamed in her head, for she knew she would be dead in days! Disease would probably gnaw at her insides, or starvation, considering she was skeptic about daily meals- And not to forget the scents! The wretched fumes could possibly claim her first!
“Shall we send her to Shikeigrounds, or Kurotribe territory, sir?” a grayish haired man asked. He was scrawny, yet robust from the waist up, and he carried a pelt-load of coyote teeth on his chest plate.
“Send her to Kurotribe,” Maruchi squealed, her voice crackling as usual. “I can work on her in my brewing den . . .” she snorted with laughter, her wrinkles flopping all over the place.
Looking displeased with his wife, Waru shook his head. “Shikeigrounds. There, we can keep her in the Bone Passage. Tamaishi,” he motioned towards the grey haired man. “I want you to be her Wolf-Watcher.”
A Wolf-Watcher is one who studies, one who picks out weakness’s, perhaps a guard, but a guard that stands watch, not protects. They usually care for the outcast, or prisoner that is held within his or her tribe, and can abuse if provoked. Restrictions prohibit anyone from speaking to a prisoner unless for questionable reasons, so forth the chieftain and Wolf-Watcher are the only one’s that can break this rule.
Tamaishi gave a hesitant nod and hauled Kitsune’s worm out body over his shoulder. “Hiyake, you can come with me, Waru can do your ceremony when he can.” He turned toward hi chieftain. “When are you visiting?”
“Perhaps I’ll be there, dawn tomorrow . . .”
(Finished, for now)
