The Hunter and the Pantomime

[Egaro]

Vhalar 4th, 719

The day was bright, the sun livening the spirit. It was a good day, though Egaro spent much of the day trying to hunt the beasts of the area so he could possess them. Try as he might, Egaro was never a skilled hunter. On days like these, he sat upon the very rock he meditated upon in life, looking out into the lake lost in his thoughts, sorting them to the music of the rolling waves as his body vibrated naturally until he was barely visible like a wafting vapor of smoke up there with the bright sun obscuring much of his presence to onlookers below.

Something about the lake drew him in ever since he came to Rharne. He lived by its shores, and died in its waters, and now it seemed more important than ever that he guard his largest anchor, a protective bubble around the Lake Induk he was certain permeated the area. It felt soothing as he let his thoughts extend to the glittering surface of the distant water, faintly rekindling the passions of life in his soul.

The peace could only last so long. The stony walls of the crags that lined the shore echoed with the sorrowful music of two animals in a death struggle. That pitiful wailing called for him to stand and peer down the path, and with only a single moment of hesitation he began his descend down the rock wall, falling to the earth and jogging on over to the scene.

It was the standard vision of nature. The chuff of a big cat was the first sound that gave him a clue before he could see its earthen-colored body that so well served as camouflage against that backdrop of windwashed stone. Within its jaws was a dripping, fresh kill, a small fox, limp and bent to some impossible degree. This mountain lion had clearly made short work of the little animal, but Egaro respected the cycle of hunter and prey that permeated the world so cruelly. After all, there were often Anak that represented these animals.

Approaching slowly, he witnessed the felid beginning to trot its way up the path, so he followed more quickly. When it easily and gracefully bounded to the top of a stack of rocks and then jumped over to a gorge on the other side, he placed his hands at the wall and hoisted himself up, clambering to the top. Looking down at the scattered stone alcoves, he could no longer see the lion anywhere. It was gone, like a ghost.

Still curious, still hopeful he could find it, the ghost continued his journey and ducked beneath the damp overhang of a cave hollowed out by the high tide, eyes prying every nook and cranny of this place for the predator he wished to possess.

[Qit'ria]

Date

The Huntress was hungry. Not literally, her stomach didn't growl, she didn't feel pains, but she longed to eat. As a ghost, she often forgot to eat, because she had no need to do so. These days though, the many days she spent out hunting her companion spirits, she found her mind wishing to eat. It was something primal, something deep within her, something that death could not stop, only slow.

And so, she needed to seek out a predator.

The Huntress waited for the morning fog to roll up the shore of Lake Lovalus, and she blended in with it. It was dawn, more animals would be active now, with the night time ones, finishing up before hiding, and the daytime ones waking up. She slowly moved with the fog, only moving as the wind moved. She had noticed that animals were just as alert to her presence here in the living world as though she were alive. It wasn't particularly surprising. More surprising when she discovered cats could see her while in the Beneath.

And then she heard light foot steps. The light sticky suction noise of feet in mud. She waited, her spectral spear at the ready, when she saw the red and white creature trot down to the water's edge. It looked around, warily, and she held her position in the fog. Seemingly satisfied, she saw the fox bend down to drink. Just as its snout touched the water, she sprung to action. Three quick side steps forward, a strong twist at the hips and waist, and the spear was thrust forward.

She aimed for the flesh just behind the front shoulder of the creature, and she felt the spear enter it. It didn't damage it of course, but it did make the connection. She strengthened that connection and disappeared into the small creature, stealing away its body. It was easy, after all, it was just an animal. And the Huntress in the fox's body, bent down, drinking at the water. And she was able to taste it. And it was pure and delicious and wonderful.

Once she drank her fill, it was time to find a more appropriate form. And that meant not being a careful little fox. She plodded along, heading over toward one of the many game trails that led from the woods. She moved up along it, letting out yip after yip, barking lightly as she went, purposefully giving away her position. She moved past branches, snapping them, stepping on leaves, everything she could to let the world know where she was. Meanwhile, she was constantly moving her head, her eyes scanning all the around her, her ears seeking out her predator.

And it didn't take long.

She had journeyed near to a rockier ridge, knowing exactly the type of predator that lived there. And she heard the forest grow silent around her, everything except the morning crickets. She saw a few leaves fall in tandem on the path before her. She could hear the slight breathing, the sound of a branch creaking. She knew where it was, and she knew how it would attack. For she'd attacked in the same manner many times before.

So when she heard the creak of the wood as the mountain lion sprang, she was already darting forward, past its landing point. As it landed, she was already turning. As it began to turn, she was already biting onto its tail. And as it swiped, one large paw with claws readied, the Huntress was moving from one animal into another. And as the mountain lion began to bite into the small meal, the ghost was tasting its blood.

This form was much more suited to her liking.

She savored the meal, and found she wanted more. She finished it, leaving little behind. She plodded along the game path, one that she could feel that the mountain lion used often. She followed it to the rocks, and she pounced up easily, landing upon a narrow ledge. One the cat had used many times. The Huntress was going to enjoy this form for a while, and to appease her host, she went where the cat wished to go, which appeared to be home. After all, it was scared of her right now. As it should be.

As she went though, she sensed something following her. The lion didn't sense it though. The Huntress did. And she instantly knew what that meant. Another ghost was following her. It was an easy deduction. And so, instead of heading to the cave nearby, as would seem the most likely course, she found another ledge nearby, taking it. She jumped with grace, and then used that ledge to jump away from the rocks into a large tree nearby, landing atop a sturdy branch. And from her hidden vantage, she watched and waited.

She saw the ghost climbing, following the way she should've gone. It's moves were... clumsy. It was not accustomed to climbing such a ridge. She watched as small pebbles and dust were kicked away by its more solid form. It was not being stealthy, though why should it? The mountain lion wouldn't be able to know about ghosts, right? She watched it approach the cave, peering inside, seeking her. She leapt back from her hiding spot, catching the cliff silently. A few more graceful bounds and she was on the ledge of the cave, behind the curious ghost.

And that's when she let loose the ear splitting mountain lion's scream, bared her fangs and claws, and waited.