Quote from Indy on June 10, 2020, 11:19 pm

Time passed and slipped, formed and expired, and she waited.  Scholarly sorts had contemplated the battles picked the soldier, as if life was nothing more than coincidence. A kitsune knew better. Those that learn to live among the shadows do so not because they are brave, but because they know each battleground needs to be carefully tended before selection.

Her claws curled around her latest tool.  It had not been her intention to cultivate it, but she would not deny opportunity no matter how distasteful. The equation was simple. They had one of hers.  And she had one of theirs.

A life for a life.

She found the flashlight that had rolled from John’s fingers in the assault.  She rolled it in her palm, before flashing it once.  And then she waited.

Quote from Mae on June 11, 2020, 9:22 pm

"John!" George cried out. The mine echoed with his voice. "They've killed him!"
Douglas grabbed George by the shoulder of his overalls and pulled him down sharply the moment he stood up.
"He's not dead!" Douglas said, taking aim down the tunnel. "If she had at him he'd barely be recognizable."

Tiffany never saw what was at the end of the tunnel. While the hunters had their backs turned she fought in vain with the coils that held her bound.

The large man blundered over some biting words and vehemently spat on the ground. "I'll have her skin before morning!" He swore.
Douglas kept his eyes straight and narrowed ahead. Tiffany could see the cold calculated hunter in his gaze.

"You know what she wants." Tiffany said loudly. Her warm, smooth voice sounded unusually cold and hallow just then. "She's willing to trade his life for mine..."

Douglas' eyes narrowed ever more sharply.

"I've seen you play cards, Douglas. Don't waste his life."

Quote from Indy on June 11, 2020, 9:56 pm

She heard the footfalls echoing off the soft slopes of the cavern.  She allowed the beam of the flashlight to fall on her briefly, violet eyes violently bright as John's chest must have near imperceptibly risen.  The wait was over.

In another instant, the hunters would have seen the sooty pelt vanish from the flashlight's beam, slinking off into the shadows.  For a painful length of time, it was silent.

And then there was a soft splash down below.

Quote from Mae on June 12, 2020, 1:10 am

George Mattias was a large man, brought up on sausages and bratwurst. He was as fit as any man to gamble under the hood of a hunter; He'd taken his fair share of risks, and sacrificed many relationships to play the hand he had now. But his poor orphan nephew was another matter. If George had to leave someone behind, as was always the risk, he knew he'd never forgive anyone who robbed him of his last kin.

John was a favorite. Not only of his uncle, but all the hunters seemed to like him. He wasn't a fully fledged hunter by any means, and some tricks of the trade were necessarily kept secret from him. But John shared a story with every member of the party worth knowing: Mary Berg the Veteran, Harvey Bolt their Leader, Alfred Nickers his right-hand man and end-game sniper - Jon Dugston, Paul Reginald, Hal Clenery, Bevis Weston, Jack Moren, - even Mercy Danbrook and Douglas Hampshire - they all knew and liked John.

George wouldn't hold Douglas accountable if the boy was killed. But he'd never forget those purple eyes.

Tiffany might not have heard the splash from where she sat, had she not been werewolf. She saw Douglas and George still poised for anything, barrels aimed down the tunnel - probably right at John. They didn't know if that splash was the other werewolf or some kind of decoy. They weren't willing to give an inch.

"Hey," Tiffany called. The caramelized sweetness of her voice returned even as the thought came to her mind. "Douglas, I don't want John getting hurt over this. You put me between that rifle of yours and the other end of the tunnel. If anything happens, you can shoot and I'll still be between you and whatever is down there."

George looked at Douglas, and Douglas glanced at Tiffany.
"George, you take my rifle and you shoot at anything that so much as twitches down that hall. Do you hear me?"
George quickly exchanged his handgun for Douglas' rifle, beads of sweat rolling off his forehead.
Douglas ducked away from the tunnel and grabbed Tiffany's arm, pulling her off the ground. He put his gun to her back and whispered in her ear,
"Et Leonem Rubrum may take your kind, but we don't."
Tiffany stiffened and took a slow breath.

George literally rolled aside as Douglas pushed Tiffany first down the tunnel. He did his best to wipe away the sweat in the warm, damp environment, before setting his sights down the tunnel again.

Quote from Indy on June 13, 2020, 12:09 am

The length of the hall was silent, save the footsteps of the men. The beam of the flashlight would not find the kitsune directly before them nor John's shape. It was as though both had vanished into the shadows themselves.

Quote from Mae on June 13, 2020, 3:58 pm

As Tiffany stepped first into the dark hall, she felt as if she were walking into someone's yawning throat. The darkness felt tangible with the dampness of the adjoining hall. If she hesitated or resisted, she had Douglas' gun against her back to remind her that the darkness was finite, if only for now.

When they two reached the end of the hall, Douglas looked around, and Tiffany caught his eyes shining with a steely glint.
"John - Is John alive?" George called from back at the other end of the hall.
Douglas kept Tiffany between himself and the only exit of the hoist control room - a single staircase leading down.
Douglas did not at once answer George. When he found the room secured, he knelt down where he must have seen John a moment before. He pulled Tiffany down with him, and both sniffed at the floor.

Quote from Mae on June 15, 2020, 1:44 pm

"He's not here, George." Douglas called back. He pulled Tiffany up by the arm, muttering under his breath, "And I'd be a daft fool to go after him."

Tiffany glanced at the dark, descending stairs.

"Bring the light, George." Douglas said.

George came down the hall. The room was filled with a warm yellow glow. George quickly set aside the candle and recollected his bearings in the room. He would know if anything had been touched or was even a millimeter out of place.

'Where is he?' George wore an impatient look on his countenance, but he said nothing to indicate his anxiety. Douglas was aware, as was Tiffany, that John was drugged or poisoned wherever he was. Traces of blood were minimal, but John's distress left a robust scent to follow.

"She's gone down." Douglas said. "Likely back to the shaft she picked him up at."

"The lower level is completely flooded." George replied. "Unless she's out to drown him there will be nowhere to go."

Douglas was thoughtful for a moment. Then, "Contact the other two outside," he said. "Tell them to meet you at the platform."

*****

The mine purred with the sound of the hoist moving down the shaft.

Quote from Indy on June 16, 2020, 9:29 pm

To take a life you must first be prepared to save it…

 

She swam in the inky expanse, alone save her grandfather’s ghost and an unconscious man. Her back legs kicked out before her while her arm held securely to John by the underside of his arms.  Every inch felt like a mile, even her own endurance pushed to its limits.  The water was an assault of ice. If Ionone hadn’t the fur coat, it might have paralyzed her. As it was, she was concerned the cold might pose an even graver danger to John.

 

So strange it was to preserve the very life she threatened with the utmost care.  Yet she minded it all the same, careful not to go too quickly so as to splash water into John’s throat, and not too slowly that she would unnecessarily increase John's exposure.  She navigated the darkness with skilled precision, knowing she would arrive upon the dark island well before her back brushed against it.  Yet all the same she clambered onto it, dragging John behind her, and collapsed upon it with welcome relief. For a moment she only listened to the sound of her breath and heart racing to catch up with her, and John’s. The murmur of his heart seemed soft to her ears, yet she detected no serious sign of distress.

 

Then she set to work. Her padded fingers numbly removed the two prizes she had found before entering the water: a length of old rope, and a piece of burlap. She held both tools tenderly in her shivering fingertips, then first took only the rope in hand.  Though the rope was shorter than she’d like, she was practiced in the arts of detaining a man with minimal material. She soon had his hands and feet bound, and what length leftover had been looped to a collapsed wood beam.

 

She couldn’t see him in the darkness, yet she considered him all the same. The sound of his breath and heart, the faint shudder in his arms.  Yet for all her concern of him, he was no different than the burlap and the rope: a tool she had found and repurposed for her needs. She sighed wearily and moved to place the burlap around his mouth…

Quote from Mae on July 11, 2020, 1:37 am

George set aside the light and worked some magic in a dark corner. Suddenly there were screens, and locked cabinets, and a well-lit room humming with electricity.

Tiffany blinked in the new light and breathed a short sigh, but she knew it was too soon to be relieved, especially as she caught Douglas' eye. He always had device in his gaze and a flat expression to conceal his mind like the gambler Tiffany knew him to be. But there other reasons aside from being a gambler and a hunter that made Tiffany more afraid of him than of the others.

George turned a glance out the corner of his eye as he worked at the computer, a hesitant and careful glance. He looked impatient, but not suspicious.
"You best put her out quick or you'll lose them." he said loudly. He looked to  guide the hoist down the shaft. "There's sure to be something in that cabinet there." He indicated over his shoulder with his thumb.

Douglas read George's glance and released Tiffany's arm. He took a step back and pointed his gun at her.
"I won't be needing that," he told George. "She's going first down those stairs and will lead me to her friend."

George gave Douglas a squint-eyed look, now that the hoist was safely at the level. Douglas disregarded his look and concentrated his attention on Tiffany.

"I asked you to change shape once before and I'll ask you to do it again." He said. "Let George here see what you are, he doesn't believe it. Don't worry about saving your strength either, you won't need it down here."

George flinched visibly, but he could not retain his curiosity. He cast a series of slow, skeptical glances up and down Tiffany's form. Though he flashed a doubtful expression at Douglas, there was a light of intrigue in his eyes. It gave his whole face a hungry red glow. Even so, there were also small glinting beads of sweat rising out of his bald forehead.