(Untitled)

[sighteddancer]

It's supposed to be a simple task; but, of course, it isn't.

First one of the great Clans asks for more information drawn by observing pyode amedha. Lesser hunters scatter to see if they can find it. Cre'hktdi finds that most hunters are making beelines for the best grounds, and wouldn't care to quarrel or risk interfering with their hunts by

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[there_is_a_me]

"Hallo, there." His nose flares as she comes in, "That's...you've been hunting, haven't you? Fuckin' elation and aggression, right?"

[sighteddancer]

"Hallo," syllables repeated exactly back at him, now that she's heard them once, "to you." She growls in annoyance, popping her melted wristblades from their gauntlet sheaths, and then opening the plate to remove them entirely. "Yes. I was busy."

Then she says something different, but the closest the translation comes is, "the hunt is done, but there is followup."

[there_is_a_me]

"Ugh." Spoon nods, then cracks his neck, "Clean up is always a fuckin' bitch. Property damage, lost equipment, or fuckin' bodies?" He'd never seen action before Scotland.

Doesn't mean he didn't hear a lot about it.

[sighteddancer]

"I'm Blooded." Duh, her tone says. "And I was hunting; property damage is not my concern."

[there_is_a_me]

"Yes, ma'am." Spoon says, nodding, "Don't know that much about your people, do I? Got to ask stupid questions or I won't know the answers."

[sighteddancer]

There's an upwards angle to her mask as she reconsiders. It levels again. "Blooded; I may hunt alone. Unblooded I would be in a pack. Or if I were a hunt leader, but then I would have said.

"Our hunts don't take place on our ships; nobody would let their prey run onto a female's territory. So property damage?" She dismisses it with a jerk of her head that sends her braids swinging. "Not my concern."

[there_is_a_me]

"Oh. That makes sense. Only kids an' teachers hunt together, an' females get stationary territory. Am I understanding you right?" He...doesn't really care about property damage unless it's the farm. That's his territory.

[sighteddancer]

"Yes. Although the very young remain at home with their mothers until they are capable." She. . . aspirates; that could have been a sort of sigh. "You were right about the equipment error."

[there_is_a_me]

"Ugh. Any idea where you lost it?" His head quirks sideways. If things are easy to find, after all, you don't go back to the End of the Universe.

[sighteddancer]

"Yes; I can't reach it. I was looking for something to cut my way through layers of metal to it. My battery isn't enough for my laser, and blasting my way to it would be," predators, for some reason, have one word for "a really stupid way to die."

"I have to reclaim it, if I'm there for months. I lost it in a place belonging to humans. If a human were to kill me in single combat, it would be permissible to take one as a trophy; otherwise, it's dishonor to me if they have a weapon of mine. I have to recover it."

[there_is_a_me]

"Oh." Pause. Paaause. "Want me t' get it for you? If I can reach it?" He's, like, half her size. In any given direction. (At least right now. Sometimes he's almost her height.)

[sighteddancer]

"If you. . . can. It's a long crawl. Also, we can talk here. There it would be hard to tell you 'up at that fork' or 'down,' and I did not mark the way there--although if you can follow them by scent, it would not be so hard.

"I think humans would care that they are mines." She sounds unsure on this point. "Although I do not know if you would. You would have to detach them, open them, set them, and throw them before they were ready to go off. Or burn the casing open, or set off an explosion beside them. I carry them on my shoulder. But they are throwing mines."

[there_is_a_me]

"...Do me a favour, lass. Never, ever tell me mate. She won't rest until she gets one." He says seriously, "I can follow your scent on them."

[sighteddancer]

"She wouldn't get them without killing one of us. She could challenge me. It's the only way I can think of.*

"It's a human outpost. There's one survivor from the creatures I hunted," she holds up a mostly-melted wristblade and rotates it for his inspection, "but he has hidden himself away.

*Unless she knew someone Blooded who could ask the Clan for weapons for a hunt that would bring it honor, but that would be. . . what's the word? Aha! Unlikely!

[there_is_a_me]

"Like I said, please don't tell her about them. Alright, I'll be careful." Spoon? Is mis-hearing her.

He thinks there's one human left. Stupid Spoon.

[sighteddancer]

The translator might have said 'survivor of the creatures I hunted,' but it went for syntax over context. Communication is always prone to flaws.

She slides the metal into her belt to take back and have stripped or its protective treatment and remelted. But first? Weapons.

"Good." Because if he wriggled into a space he couldn't get out of, she would be most embarassed. Also, she would have to go back to her original search for something that could cut metal, and picking up an abandoned hunt is tiresome. "This shouldn't take long."