Day 26 - Zip

Day 26 - Zip

If there was one thing that Kaleh'a Quickdraw was good at, it was knowing his limits.

And when he reached those limits, the second best thing he was good came in to save his tail.

That second thing being running.

The Miqo'te was naturally light on his feet, but after years of tracking prey, chasing after wounded animals, and occasionally running from said wounded animals, his skill at fleeing from danger was exceptional. So exceptional, in fact, that he had never been caught.

And today would not be the first time he was caught.

He zipped past a tree and a slumbering watchman, the illegal hunters camp he had infiltrated rather loosely guarded for so early in the morning, a pair of ill-gotten rabbits over his shoulder as he laughed, waking the sentry just in time for his buddies to come rushing past, most with bows drawn as they yelled with ire.

The truth was, the seven hunters would have put Kaleh'a's skills to the test if he took them all on by himself, but stealing a little piece of their hoard and luring them out was a different story entirely. In fact, it was exactly what he was hoping to do. He jerked to the left, behind a tree, and an arrow whistled past and through the spot he had been running in, but before another could be nocked and fired, he was dashing about in a completely different direction, still laughing as the rabbits bounced on his shoulder.

Another truth, he was a bit terrified. Sure, fighting was one thing, but when you turned and ran? That was a whole different can of worms. Staring down the enemy meant you knew where they were, what they were doing, how they were reacting. This, with his back to them, he had to rely on his ears, his instincts, and his legs.

More arrows zipped past him, singing in the air, and then moments later, a few more, but the wily Miqo'te ducked, dodged, and weaved out of their way, seeing the clearing just up ahead that meant freedom.

And a whole lot of hurt for the poachers.

He burst through the undergrowth, letting out a whooping cry, and as if on cue, from patches of tall grass, Twin Adder and God's Bow soldiers rose up, knocked arrows, readied spears, and prepared themselves, just in time for the first swordsman hot on Kaleh'a's heels to burst from the forest proper, and skid to a halt as he saw what awaited him.

The quick turn towards the forest was stymied by the flow of poachers behind him, unable to call out a warning as he was bowled over by the swarm of bodies intent on skinning the Miqo'te, and instead, all froze as the guards held them up at spear and bow point. Slowly, they raised their hands, dropped their weapons, and surrendered one by one, leaving the captain of the guard grinning as he strode over to Kaleh'a.

He patted the Miqo'te on the back, who was hunched over and panting, chuckling as he did so. "Well done. Crazy idea, but, well done."

Kaleh'a lifted a shaky hand, gave him a thumbs up, and then barfed, the captain taking a step back as the young man groaned. "Should not...have eaten breakfast." And the captain laughed.

PSA: IF WE’RE IN A MUTUAL AND YOU WANT TO THROW A STARTER AT ME BECAUSE YOUR MUSE WANTS MINE OR YOU JUST WANT TO ROLEPLAY IN GENERAL —- JUST DO IT. I PROMISE, I’LL SCREAM WITH HAPPINESS IF YOU DO. YOU’RE NOT BOTHERING ME ; I WANT TO ROLEPLAY WITH ALL OF THE PEOPLE I FOLLOW. OKAY, YOU’RE ALL WONDERFUL. PCE.

voidtouched-blue--[Previous]

"A moment before you go, Sergeant. Do you see that?" He leaned in closer, glancing quickly up at the Sergeant beside the other side of the bed and pointing once more at the reddened gash on the back of her shoulder. Glittering specks of aether filtered out of the wound with the gentle glow peaking through from underneath the injured tissues. Even under the subtle light, he could see both sides knitting back together beyond his stitching. It was slow, but faster than normal healing factors. "Yet another item to include in my report." He sighed.

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He barely reacted when the Medicus returned, but he was careful to watch, and see, observe and learn what he could, and he learned that the Medicus was skilled. Very skilled.

While the Garlean Medicus was pleased with the advancements of Garlean medicine, Bryn felt a bit less fond of it, rubbing at his wrapped hand as he frowned at the man stitching up his charge. Certainly, it was needed, but with someone so talented working on a slave, on an...experiment, just how important was Cyra to these people?

The dismissal would have been ignored, if it wouldn't have drawn more questions than Bryn would like to answer, rising from his seat and shouldering his rifle with a grunt, heading for the door before he was called back. Called back to see the fresh stitches already knitting themselves back together, flesh to flesh, far too fast to be normal. And that chilled the soldier to the bone.

He had seen that before, the rapid healing, the way wounds seemed to disappear to soon. No, not exactly what was happening here, but far too similar to be a coincidence, and it proved a struggle to keep his voice calm. "She's...healing herself?" Framed as a question, really a statement of surprise. She was healing herself right in front of them, unconscious and sedated. Which meant whatever drug they were pumping her full of to force these changes.

"Yes," he mumbled out at the mention of the report, another report of his own already writing itself in his head, turning on his heels to head towards the door. "Call if you need me," he said simply, and pushed out of the door, beelining for his room, to add another page to his report.

Someone, anyone, had to know outside of this place.

Yeah, they Bi,

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Day 14 - Telling

"What gave it away?"

Bryn sat flat on the snow under him, the black and detailed helmet of the Garlean Empire resting next to his black armored legs, so stark compared to the white forest around him. He shared the embankment he was hidden behind with an archer, dressed head to toe in speckled white clothes, pants, boots, long sleeve shirt, jacket, even his hat, all built to blend into their environment and keep them hidden. And given how quickly the blonde Miqo'te had shucked the hat off, he did not like the chosen attire.

"This has to be the ugliest outfit I have ever worn. Period. The end." Kaleh'a grumbled a bit more, before he glanced at Bryn and lifted an eyebrow, registering the question a bit late as he hummed. "Gave what away? You've lost me."

Bryn grunted, silent for a moment, as he carefully checked over his armor. Was something out of place? But the entire thing was just as non-descript and intricate as any common foot soldier of the Garlean Empire, a perfect disguise for his infiltration of a Castrum. Blend in, get in, gather info, get out. And as a Hyur from Ala Mihgo, conscripts from his homeland were common enough. After checking all was in order, he asked, "How did you know it was me?"

"Ohhh! That? That was easy," and the message runner pulled out a piece of smoked lamb jerky and bit into it, leaving the ex-soldier flabbergasted as the Miqo'te seemed perfectly fine with not elaborating. Bryn lasted all of a minute before exasperatedly blurting out again.

"But how?"

Kaleh'a paused his snack fest, and gave the older man a look, shaking his head and shrugging. "Well, first, the mask doesn't really hide your eyes. The silver bleeds through, kinda cool actually. Top that off with your scent - which, by the Twelve do they let you bathe? - and your gait, it was all very telling."

Bryn fell silent for a long moment, and then softly muttered, "I have a tell."

"Huh? No! Not at all!" Kaleh'a laughed, finishing off his jerky and pulling out a letter and handing it to Bryn. "Look, I'm a message runner. I have to recognize who I'm delivering to by sight, sound, voice and scent. Sometimes with just one of those things. Throwing armor over your entire body, hiding your face, and changing the way you talk isn't going to throw me off. Anyone else? Sure! Now, hurry up and take this letter so I can get out of this frozen wasteland."

Bryn snatched the letter from the Miqo'te's hand, his short, nearly buzzed hair starting to ice with his helmet off already, and grumbled some more about Kaleh'a's deductions, reading the letter carefully...and scowling. "Should I ret-"

"They both verbally and explicitly told me to not let you return, and that it was mentioned in the letter." The archer rolled his eyes at the undercover man, and snatched the letter back, shredding it and scattering it in the snow. "Alright, now, I'm gone! Good luck!"

And before Bryn could object, the wily Miqo'te was gone, swinging up into a tree and darting along its branches, leaving Bryn to mutter into the silence, "I have a tell..."