Come From Way Above [Feral Predator&Naru]

Come From Way Above

Though, when he hears the ic’jits approaching, his body stiffens on full alert, ready to step in and exterminate them, just like any other good Arbitrator would do. But for the moment, he’s more than happy to see what else his little dhi’ke-de can do.

...

Naru takes a small step closer, but pauses with a doubtful frown when she no longer feels the strange presence. The hairs on the back of her neck are not even flinching, which confuses her all the more. She turns around and is about to take off again when she hears the sound of clicking right behind her.

Naru tips her head up to the moonlight again, takes a deep breath, and then, slowly turns to face the metal-faced beast. Unfortunately, it’s the biggest one, seemingly the leader of the three. She sees it pause just a few meters away, sees the beast’s head tilt downwards. She follows it’s line of sight and ends up looking at the wrist daggers on her wrist. She smirks up at him and chirps, “Kill you nicely, hm?”

Paya glares at her through his mask. “What have you done to my mei’hswei [brother]?! Pauk! You pauking ooman whore!”

Naru tilts her head as she listens to the beast let out a series of outraged clicks and shrieks. “You cry worse than a babe. Kill me nicely now, baby beast.”

Paya instantly translates her words and is stepping forward menacingly. “Baby?! I am Paya, the very God of all hish-qu-ten, reincarnated!”

...

He’s rolling his eyes hard at that one. This idiot “Paya” is so very lucky this hish-qu-ten sitting in the tree spying on him isn’t one of the religious crazy bastards. Or else, Paya would be being sent back home to his afterlife Goddom for such blasphemy.

In fact, one wrong move against his dhi’ke-de, and this hish-qu-ten is going to kill this newly self proclaimed God anyway.

Or maybe he’ll just do it for fun anyway...

Yes, and then, he’ll offer the skull of this so-called Paya right up to his dhi’ke-de. Right before he gives her The Warrior’s Mark.

Her spawnlings make his ask of her now rather difficult, but not entirely impossible. Another thing he hadn’t anticipated and will have to call and ask The Elders about.

Or maybe he won’t...

(Coming from her, they’d make fine warriors, too...)

“Sorry. I don’t speak the language of the dead.”

His thoughts are put on hold at the careless and rather taunting tone of his dhi’ke-de, and of course, he smirks (with his eyes, the way his kind do), and even has to hold onto a chortle.

She lifts her wrist, and he almost hisses at her carelessness, but then, she seems to predict the hish-qu-ten lunging straight for her. She pulls her wrist back, instead, going for the primitive little weapon tucked to her belt. She swings the weapon up instead of forward, and he’s watching both impressed and highly aroused as she hauls herself up high enough to wrap her legs around the hish-qu-ten’s head.

She tries to rip the mask free, but is grabbed by the hair and thrown to the dirt. His eyes never leave her as he shimmies slowly back down the tree to watch her up close. He tries not to get too lost in watching her just in case the other hish-qu-ten notices him.

She is exactly how he remembered and so much more now that she’s a warrior full-grown in every sense of the word. Before where she stumbled through her lucky moves, now she is all grace and confidence in every single movement she makes. Her eyes are always flitting around, taking in surroundings and looking for escape or makeshift armour or weaponry. She is calculated and wary in her age now. She is not just a warrior of her body, but now of her mind, too.