Guard Duty

[Shardae]

December 12 {Mabon/Jupday}, Year LV
7th Hour {Near Dusk}

The sun had not set yet, but all was well and cheerful in Benevolence. Most were celebrating Mabon, the feast of the fall equinox. Most in the small village were wearing the celebratory colors of the cute little holiday. Several families surrounded fires, burning sweet-smelling flowers to perfume the air with their diverse scents. There was one, however, who was not taking part in the festivities.

On days like this, festivals and other such things, there was a Guardian who only took part in the festivities whenever she was forced to. Today, however, she'd managed to get out of pretending to be bright and cheerful and was taking guard duty out on one of the outposts. Though the sun hadn't left the sky yet, she was merely sitting atop the wooden structure in her daily cat form - a mottled brown and black she-cat that had the most astounding sapphire blue eyes. Her eyes were watching the forest outside the village, keeping a swift eye out for any signs of trouble or danger. Even though she practically hated the village and just about everyone who lived there, Shardae found it her responsibility to look out for them against the dangers of the Gewyn.

If someone had spotted the tortoiseshell cat atop the outpost, nobody had called out to her or had approached her yet. And quite frankly, Shardae didn't want them too. She hated company - being alone was so much easier and it wasn't complicated. At least, that was the explanation she gave to herself, even though deep down in her long dormant heart she knew this wasn't the case. But Shardae didn't want to admit that to herself. So here she was, all alone, doing practically nothing while waiting for the sun to set so the Gewyn could get going and give her something to do.

Shardae growled lightly to herself. She needed something to keep her occupied. Her tail twitched and she laid down, placing her head on top of her mottled paws.

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

Mabon eve again...is it really my thirty ninth?
The burly tomcat mused wordlessly as he padded along the dirt path that lead to the village outposts. Smoke from the festival bonfires prickled his nose, a heady perfume of woodsmoke and dried flowers. He twitched his ears at the babble of human voices behind him: there was no alarm in the tones that the breeze passed along to his wise ears, only an intoxicating joyful abandon that made his chest ache. Not that he expected any trouble at the moment. It was just habit to check. How they could forget so easily the danger that lay beyond the village grounds was beyond him. What a mixed blessing. He hesitated to admit (even to himself) that he would love to be able to forget, just sometimes.
Then again, he thought, with a twitch of his whiskers, Gewin stench is unfortunately unforgettable.

One of the guard towers loomed high over his head, silhouetted against the light of the dying sun. With a few effortless bounds, Alastair forwent the stairs and slipped up towards the platform of the guard tower. Ah the beauty of being a Guardian still in his prime. Older than most of the four footed youth he'd seen lately. Gods, he must seem ancient to them! He did not expect anyone to be at the towers during the festival. He had nothing against the festival personally. He rather liked it, really and had stayed for the first half but there was something about this time of year that drove him to even more solitude than was customary for him. Most of the town's Guardians would stay close to their people now, keeping a weather eye on the fringes of the crowd and enjoying the equinox festivities. It was about this time of year he'd been born, but his birthday wasn't much more than a vague thought in his mind. He was more proud of being a part of the season than a particular day in it he could claim as his own. Fall was a season that was decidedly wild without indulging in the petty harshness of cold winter.

His silent poetics on the seasons were interrupted by a scent that was unexpected but by no means unwelcome. If his nose was correct...and it was rarely wrong...another Guardian sat the tower top. His guess was confirmed by a short, frustrated, and decidedly feminine growl. Alastair slowed his pace to test the wind again. He thought he detected youth and the tip of his tail twitched in irritation. A kid had no business patrolling alone. No matter how bright the kid, kids got hurt, he thought bitterly. Not that there had been any harm done. He was no kid and he was there now to make sure things went smoothly.
So what's your problem, Alastair?
He ignored himself and sprung easily up on the platform instead, not bothering to hide the thunk of his paw pads against the wood as his legs took the impact of his thickset frame. He passed a cursory glance over the petite young tortoise shell lass then fixed his gaze on the sun where it was melting over the mountains to the west. He really wasn't there for the conversation and he guessed by the fact that she wasn't preening and capering like most of the young felines by the bonfires she wasn't either. Still, he figured it was rude to ignore.

+Bonfires not your cup of tea, missy?+[/font][/size]

[Shardae]

It was a moment before the other Guardian actually arrived that Shardae caught this newcomers scent. She pinned her ears against her head - couldn't someone just leave her alone for one day? Couldn't she have a day of peace, with nobody interrupting it? Her tail twitched impatiently, and her sapphire blue eyes narrowed as she glared out at the darkening forest. It was times like this that really made her irritated. It was times like this that really put burrs into her fur. At the thought of burrs in her fur, Shardae instantly looked down to make sure she looked presentable. All because she didn't prefer the company of others did not mean that she wasn't the least bit vain. She licked her chest a couple of times - in that self-conscious manner, and straightened herself up to look back out to the forest.

A well-muscled tomcat pulled himself to the rooftop with her. Shardae didn't even need to look to sense that this Guardian was older than she was - at least ten years older. He had experience under his paws, which was something she herself did not have just yet. But that also meant he probably thought himself a lofty elder - someone who'd be able to boss her around with a flick of their ear and a weak command. Well, if he thought anything of that sort, he had another thing coming. Her claws sank into the rooftop just at the thought of it.

Shardae did her best to ignore him, puffing out her fur and hunching her shoulders so she wouldn't have to pay attention to him. She really didn't want to be here with someone else - she wanted to patrol alone where nobody would bother her. Shardae was ready. She could face down a Gewyn without fear and she could defeat them. Though she hadn't actually done so yet, Shardae was sure of herself. And having some older, supposedly more experienced tomcat hovering over her was not going to help her fight her own battles, which really ticked her off. So, she continued to try and ignore him.

However, his mind-voice called out to her. "Bonfires not your cup of tea, missy?"

Shardae hissed, turning to face the tomcat with fire in her sapphire blue eyes. "What's it to you? I'm here on guard duty, if you don't mind." It was the usual fiery tone she used with all who questioned her - the ones who agitated her. Her tail lashed impatiently, she was not going to give off the impression that this other Guardian was welcome here, invading her personal space.

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

No. Definitely not here to talk.
He decided as she whipped about. If the hostility wasn't clear enough from her sending, it veritably oozed from her pores. Young and touchy. With more than a little regret he realized it was likely the age difference: perhaps she thought he was going to lecture her like some (this was hard to stomach) authority figure. Gods knew he wasn't here to preach to her. That was the last thing he felt like doing. It wasn't about him and it wasn't about her. It was just that two Guardians were always better than one. Whether or not she thought he was here to work or to lord seniority over her didn't make a difference. He guessed she thought the latter, her response considered. Or maybe she was just vindictive. He couldn't decide whether he liked the attitude or not. That kind of bite could make or break her. It got his attention though, and he turned and studied her with golden hazel eyes. Despite their warm color they were unfathomable and almost cold. He might have been a creature of stone for all her irritation moved him. This might irritate her more. Frankly, he didn't care.

The russet eyes locked on hers, taking in their familiar burning blue. He'd seen her about before, and always alone. Why she flew solo so often he didn't know, but it wasn't his business to ask, especially considering his own habits were so similar. She always kept a fire banked and burning behind her eyes, this one. He decided he didn't mind the attitude. She might be green as a spring sapling but she carried herself well and it was apparent she had drive. Still...backup never killed anyone. Odds were she wouldn't realize he didn't mind her bite...he hadn't moved a muscle or loosed so much as an echo of a mind sending to indicate it.

+Mind? No, I do not.+

His voice is winter woodsmoke and November sunsets. Gruff, curt, and all business. If she wasn't the kind of girl for smalltalk so much the better. It wasn't the sort of thing he enjoyed or did well. He could forget the bull, which was nice.

+Good fighters get burned too.+

He said, squaring his shoulders. If she were smart she'd take the compliment that implied she was quite capable. Maybe she'd back off. He wasn't in the mood for a petty squabble over nothing at all. He didn't have the patience for those on the best of days.

+Back up never killed anyone, Miss....?+

He'd just realized that although he recognized her he'd never learned her name. He remembered the areas she patrolled and knew that she was quick and light on her feet. That was what had been most important to him. It was what he'd need to know in case they ever fought side by side.
Watch her bite my head off for wanting to know her name. he thought dryly. Be a normal tom and you're an uncivilized brute. Try and play nice and they bare their fangs anyway. Even the kittens. You just can't win.
[/font]

[Shardae]

The tortoiseshell she-cat was in no mood for any games. Her ears were pinned against her head, and her fur was very close to puffing out. In fact, she was about three seconds away from arching her back. But, Shardae was pretty sure that her stance was aggressive enough that it didn't take a lot of brains to figure out she didn't want to be bothered. But then again, when did anyone ever listen to her and follow her requests? Not since... well, never. Thinking of that fact only wanted Shardae to throw a hissy fit even more.

However, she had much more control over her body than that. Shardae knew very well that overreacting could get her in trouble with the Elders, and the last time that happened, she had been stuck begging for food from some human family on the north side of town and looking for a warm place to stay. It had been the most humiliating nights in her life. And she refused to admit to herself that it had also been one of the most comfortable. Her tail twitched at the thought of again, and she continued to glare at the coolheaded elder Guardian - not daring to give him any impression that he was welcome guarding the outpost on her duty time.

Get out of here, old timer, she was tempted to say, when the other Guardian spoke. His voice was not what she'd expected, and Shardae instinctively took a step back. His voice was as cold as any Guardian she'd ever heard, but it was gruff and deep and most certainly not what she'd expected. The experience too was evident in his voice, and for a split second it made her think twice about speaking sharply with him. But, of course, that feeling didn't last long. She assumed her aggressive stance, narrowing her eyes at him and lashing her tail. Even if this was a Guardian who was older than she was, she didn't like company, and that was the way it was going to say. No matter who was here.

But also, Shardae was no idiot. She heard the compliment in his statement, and was surprised. No Guardian ever complimented her. For the most part, they stayed away and when she was around they treated her almost the same as she treated them. This one was different, and she wondered why. Her tail twitched again, but not in anger this time. This time, it was in thoughfulness. A good fighter... I suppose I am, she thought smugly. Even though, as a matter of fact, she still hadn't fought her first Gewyn yet. But she still didn't respond until he asked for her name.

I'd probably blow his mind if I didn't freak, she told herself, and then turned away from him to face the forest again. Her back was to him and her shoulders hunched over as she answered. "It's Shardae, even though you have no business knowing," she said, her mind-voice cold and stubborn. She didn't even turn her head back to him as she said it. The sun was getting closer to the horizon now, and the land was darkening. Her eyes remained fixed on the forest before her, watching for the wolf shapes of any Gewyn. All because another Guardian had arrived didn't mean she could ignore her duty.

"And back-up can kill you if you're not careful. If they get in your way.

"[/i][/b] Shardae kept the pain from her voice well. She knew this statement for fact, as that was what had happened with her parents. She didn't like thinking of that night. "So I'd appreciate it if you got your fluffy hide moving and LEFT." Her tail lashed. She didn't want anyone here if a Gewyn showed up.[/size][/blockquote][/color]

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

He said nothing, gave no indication even that he had heard. Though of course it was impossible that he had not. He knew that kind of anger all too well. It was his own youth's malevolence reflected back at him only in words. He had expressed his in actions and he had the scars to prove it.

It would have been easier to just leave, to let things go. But Alastair had never been the type to back down and he wasn't about to start now. It was a habit, part of his inborn nature, rather than a principle he'd developed. He knew he was stubborn as hell and that suited him fine. Really what it amounted to right now was he didn't feel like switching towers and if they both got back to business instead of hissing and spitting like a couple of witless snakes they would hardly notice each others' presence.
Shardae.
He'd heard she was a spitfire but this was far from what even he had expected. He didn't offer up his own name in return and was about to turn his back to her to face the rising moon and the forest when the young feline felt the need to have the last surly word.

And back-up can kill you if you're not careful. If they get in your way.

The muscular tom almost flinched visibly and had to fight to keep the guttural snarl from flying out of his maw, to keep his fur from bristling. The slight she-cat might as well have landed him a physical blow. Something in his chest twinged and stabbed. His auburn eyes flashed with a welter of pain and black anger.

I know that! To Hell and back I know that 'help' can get in the way!

He had been the damned back up that tripped up and not a day went by that he didn't think about that. But the exception was not the rule. And that had been an exception. It took all the strength in his body, an actual physical effort, not to lash out at something. Anything. But he knew from experience that it wouldn't do him any good. She didn't understand that yet. It was why she spoke like this.

He didn't know what she'd been through but he'd bet the summer sun that she'd lost someone. Something. The war between Gewin and Guardian had been going on generations before either of them had been born. Neither race was a stranger to death, but that never made the losses any easier. So it was no long shot of a guess that she had lost important things, although what or how he didn't know. He didn't care to ask anyway. That, truly, was none of his business.

The silence in the wake of her words was a hard gust of biting winter frost. In the dead quiet he reined himself in, harnessed the raw emotion like he'd done for years. Only his smoldering eyes moved. They seemed to flicker uncannily as if they were live coals. Finally he slipped a sending into the breeze, his rough voice carrying easily, though it was barely more than a mind whisper.

+Shardae, you are a Guardian. You are born to kill the Gewin.+

The molten copper orbs focused, snapping their attention from somewhere over her shoulder to fix their piercing gaze unwaveringly upon her blue eyes.

+And you are fighting the wrong person. I am no wolf.+

Without a further word, he turned on his haunches and moved to the other end of the guard tower platform. The moon had risen fully now and it silvered the ash grey of his pelt, casting shadows on the rippling muscles beneath as he sat with his back to her and rolled his broad shoulders back. Alastair directed his gaze to the distant woods. He wanted - no - needed to focus on something else. It would make the ache in his chest that had flared up again go away. Let her sulk if she wanted to. They both had the same job to do. He intended to get on with his own part in it.

[Shardae]

Shardae was about to say something else vicious. She had the insult ready, her hackles were raised, her mouth was even open. But something - she wasn't entirely sure what for a moment - stopped her. There was something in the air that told her adding on to her previous sharp comment wouldn't be right. Suddenly, she realized what it was. It was the silence. No cool response, as he had given her just a moment before when he'd first shown up. The other Guardian... he was silent. Like he was insulted, or hurt, or something along those delicate lines. Turning her head, the young Guardian looked to see that her new guard duty partner had flinched, and he looked like he was trying to hold back emotion.

She was tempted to spit at him. What right did he have to be hurt by her words? Now she was insulted, in a way. Her own words had come back to nip her in the tail, and she wasn't liking it. Her own comment brought back memories of that night, when her parents had tried to defend her. Shardae fought to keep the memories away, but she was too young. Her mind had not been trained to fold away her emotions and other unpleasant things, so the memory hit her at full force.

"Shardae, get out of here!" that was the firm, strong voice of her father, Haimon. He was in his giant cat form - the moon was out - wrestling with an equally large wolf. Their snarls echoed in young Shardae's ears, as she cowered in fear away from the fight. Her father's words had no effect. Her feet were glued to the ground. Fear had erased everything else. What was she even doing here? "I told you to get out! Now!" Shardae just lowered herself even further to the pathway, unable to move.

"Shardae, listen to your father!" This voice came from her mother, Therra, as she pinned down one of the Gewyn beneath her paws.

"I'm not leaving you!" Shardae finally found her voice, just before the crushing scent of Gewyn reached her nose...

NO! She would not remember further. Shardae shook the memory from her mind and ignored the other Guardian even as he padded away to the other side of the rooftop and sat there. As the moments passed, her shoulders relaxed and Shardae felt her ears go back in shame. She could tell that something had happened to this Guardian too; she knew very well that she wasn't the only one to have lost loved ones in fights with the Gewyn. Perhaps this Guardian had experience with death too. She let out a defeated sigh, and her tail twitched. "I am sorry," she forced herself to say. "If my statement hurt you, I am sorry. It was out of line."

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

He heard her voice as if it came from far away, through water or thick fog. An apology. He had not expected an apology and he let her words hang there for a moment, remaining stone still until the sending faded away into memory. When he turned, his amber eyes were calm and stoic again and perhaps just a little bit tired as they scanned the young Guardian. Looking at her almost made the ache return: she was so young, so passionate, so reckless. So much like Blair. For all his harshness, what he really wanted was to not see her hurt by anything foolish. She could be a great Guardian. Blair could be - could have been - a great Guardian.
Why do you care if she gets hurt, Alastair? What's she to you?
Nothing, he told himself, she is nothing. It's just that it won't do to lose every young Guardian we've got: every fighter counts.
Funny, you almost sound like you believe that's all there is to it.
He regarded her quietly for a minute more, one ear twitching when a night bird wailed in the distance.

+No harm done. I would have done the same at your age.+

His response was wry and not so cold as before. It was not entirely forgiveness but it was by no means a rejection of her apology. The slight thawing in his tone did pleasant things to the smoky tenor of his voice. He turned back to the woods, eyes scanning the dense shadows gathered there. Just because he was grateful for the apology didn't mean he wasn't still on duty.

+Don't fight me, Miss Shardae. Fight the Gewin when they come. And I will be here if you need me.+ He cast half a glance over his broad shoulder, some of his features in shadow and his dark silver coat aglow with moonlight. +Only if you need me. I promise. I will not get in your way.+

[Shardae]

Shardae hunched her shoulders, ears pinned flat against her head. She hated apologies, they embarrassed her. It had been such a long while since she had expressed regret for anything, though looking back there were probably plenty of times when she should have apologized. But had she? No. Of course not. The noble, dignified Shardae didn't stoop to such levels. Or, such as the rumors that spread from the certain Guardian to certain Guardian went. The truth was that, well... Shardae never felt a reason to apologize because she didn't mean it.

For she really was a sincere, honest person. She was sincere right down to her emotions. If she was angry, she didn't bother hiding it. If she was cheerful, she didn't hide that either. The only thing she hid was grief. A lot of the Guardians around town didn't believe her to have a heart, because she never cried or let herself loose around them. They who knew so little. The young tortoisheshell shook her head at this thought as the sun finally set over the land and the moon took its place in the sky. The sky darkened, and the moon brightened.

Her usually mottled fur became a silvery-gray and white in the ghostly moonlight - it turned her fur glossy. It was strange how, at night, Shardae always looked a little more alive than usual. Of course, she didn't want to show this to her new guard companion, so she curled her tail over her paws and made herself as small as possible. The other thing many knew about Shardae was that she hated drawing attention to herself. Though her casual, typical antics were enough to get everyone's attention, it didn't mean that she wanted all the attention given to her. In fact, she hated it. So she hunched herself over and pretended to concentrate on the forest, though her heart was thrumming and her mind was on something else.

When the other Guardian said he wouldn't interfere if Gewyn showed up, Shardae flicked an ear in surprise and momentarily forgot about her charade to keep from being noticed. She looked around to look at the burly tom, and tilted her head in that curious way. She hadn't expected this answer from an elder Guardian, especially one who seemed to coolheaded and stern with her. "I... I didn't mean to seem rude, really," she spluttered. "I would probably get in your way anyway. I'm sure you're a much better fighter than I am, Mr...?" She realized she didn't know his name, and what she had just said.

Had she really just insulted her own skills to fight? Shardae shook her head and got to her paws. "I mean, I'm pretty sure you have more experience with Gewyn. Not a better fighter. That's not what I meant." She raised her furry chin defiantly, as if daring him to challenge her. Shardae didn't admit herself weaker easily.

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

She kept talking as he kept watch and he flicked one ear back to listen. She was, in a fashion, apologizing again. He got the feeling she didn't do that sort of thing often.
Gods, she was so like Blair
He thought again to himself without being able to help it. It made his chest twinge again so he tried to shoo the thought away posthaste. This time he managed it successfully, turning his mind to matters at hand.

She was a good youngster, where it counted, he felt. Why his gut told him this he didn't know but he'd learned long ago not to ignore his instinct. If she kept talking like this though, she wouldn't notice an intruding Gewyn unless it felt like playing a reel on a fiddle below the tower.

+Alastair. My name is Alastair.+

He is perfectly aware that he could have chosen to shove her earlier quip, "what's it to you" in her face. But really, that would accomplish nothing, though his unassuming answer was probably enough to bring her previous words to her own mind. In his experience females, especially young ones often agonized too much over things they had said in the past. It was a trait he found simultaneously endearing and annoying, though he wasn't at all sure why.

When she stumbled in her sendings a bit he thought at first that it was his fault, then he realized that she was fumbling to rephrase. Ah, pride goeth before the fall. An owl took flight, it's smooth motion in his peripheral vision gaining his attention for a moment until it was identified and then dismissed. He turned to her, fixing her again with his pointed coppery gaze.

+Of course.+

He says simply, no derision or mocking in his tone, only gentle amusement coloring his usual gruff burr. The tip of his tail flicks once as he considers her levelly.

+You know, I really did mean it when I said no harm done. Say, didn't you have a job you were intent upon doing just a minute ago?+

[Coincidence]

To be played by either or both of you, or if you really want me to play him, PM this account.

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

[/font]
As he waited for Shardae's reply, something roughly jerked his attention from his younger fellow Guardian. It was not a motion in the treeline nor a sound that distracted the elder Guardian from the budding conversation at hand, but a fortuitous change of breeze. Upon the night wind floated the fetid scent of a lone Gewyn male and in an instant all thought of conversation was swiftly abandoned.

The muscular tomcat leaped to his paws, fur on end and tail lashing like a scourge. Fangs bared, his amber eyes glowed fiercely in the dark: the cloying stench of dampness and congealing blood was unmistakable and it sent a wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. In a moment he had slipped into the shadow of one of the thick wooden pillars that supported the guard tower.

From the dark, he scanned the surrounding area. He could see the Gewyn now, a gray - male, as he'd suspected - of substantial size. Alastair's sharp night vision could see the foul hunger in those soulless eyes that made his hackles raise, but he held back the snarl that boiled in his lungs and followed the lupine form with his eyes.

He would do as he'd promised the youngling, but he would be on the sharpest alert he had ever been. He had only ever lost one patrolling partner and he was dead set on keeping it that way. Why he was honouring her request, he wasn't sure but something in his gut told him that though she'd need him, she'd do alright for herself.

All the warmth in his husky voice is gone, the timbre cold as winter and dagger sharp.
+Look alive, Shardae. We have company.+

[Shardae]

Shardae huffed, still a little put out by the fact she had almost admitted that she had never fought a Gewyn before. However, her attention was distracted when she heard his name for the first time, and her ear flicked in recognition. She had heard that name spoken around the village once or twice; though none of them were ever in bad terms. The young Guardian huffed again and felt her tail twitch, and glared at the older Guardian once he pointed out in a subtle way that she should be doing her job rather than socializing. Well, that might not have been his actual intent in saying that, but to Shardae (who was reasonably unreasonable) that was the implication of his statement. Unwilling to reply, she just hunched her shoulder and turned her head when a stifling stench stung her nose.

Her world stopped spinning for a split second, as fear took hold of her senses and completely froze up on the wall of that outpost. That scent, that unmistakable scent of dried blood and dog, was Gewyn. Gewyn. A real, live, breathing, hungry, ready-to-kill Gewyn who would more than likely tear apart anyone who opposed him or her. Banishing that fear from her mind, Shardae turned her head to see exactly what this Gewyn looked like.

From afar, she could tell he was gray - and most definitely not weak. Her tail twitched, and Shardae's fur instantly fluffed to make her look twice as large. Shardae now fully banished her fear. She refused to let it take her over now, when she didn't just have her own life to protect. She was protecting the village, and all of the humans within it. And, in a strange and twisted sort of way, she would be protecting her newfound patrol member Alastair as well. Though she was sure he could probably take perfectly fine care of himself. His warning to look alive fell on pretty much deaf ears. Shardae wasn't thinking about anything, really, except for tearing this Gewyn limb from limb.

Shardae roared a challenge to the approaching Gewyn her and Alastair as she shed her usual cat form and became the deadly hybrid. Her fur became shaggy but still sleek and close to her body. Her sharp cat teeth became fangs, and her claws became like deadly daggers ready to take down anything. She leaped down from the outpost. There was no fear of breaking bones - as a Guardian she was naturally strong and able. Shardae took a defensive stance in front of the outpost, growling yet another challenge towads the approaching Gewyn. Shardae knew very well that these growls and roars wouldn't stop her new enemy, but it was worth letting the enemy know she was there and would tear him apart limb from limb.

"I'm going in before he gets any closer," she announced before charging to face the Gewyn head-on. This would be her first official fight with a Gewyn. She was about to make her parents proud, if she could help it. Remembering that Alastair probably wouldn't like being left out, she added, "You can come if you want. But you can stay if you want too. Either way, I'm taking this oversized pup down." Shardae continued to charge the Gewyn, preparing herself for the battle about to ensue.

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

Shardae shifted in a flash, roaring out her challenge and sprinting off like a lioness on the hunt. Not the tactic he'd have chosen, considering the size and strength of the Gewyn concerned: even shifted she was smaller than the wolf, but she would likely still make it out of the battle and learn better.
Don't get yourself killed, Shardae.
He thought to himself, mildly surprised that he meant it so deeply and fervently. But there was no time to think about that now.

+You know the name to call if you need me.+

He called out simply after her. He hoped she had heard and he hoped she would shed enough pride to call. Pride was one thing: foolishness and arrogance were another. But he was willing to offend her if it meant saving her life. Keeping a passionate Guardian alive to fight another day and protect the village was worth more than his feelings would ever be. He held no illusions in that regard. It took all his willpower not to rush out into the dark after her. She reminded him entirely too much of Blair and letting her face down this threat alone made him feel helpless. If there was one feeling he hated above all others, it was helplessness. Still, she was not Blair and he was not green as he had been all those years ago. How else was she to learn if he did not let her? He might not like endangering any young Guardian but it was a necessary evil. Normally he'd not let them go in alone but this one was different. Why, he couldn't say, but she simply was. For now he left it at that.

Alastair waited on the tower, shifting quietly to his hybrid form. The moonlight felt like quicksilver in his veins. Adrenaline spiked his awareness, sharpening his senses. He relished the sensation of his bones stretching and his muscles swelling. The wood creaked satisfyingly beneath his burgeoning weight. It had been built to hold humans and house cats, not musclebound felines the size of panthers. It would not give but it would protest a little. In this shape he was tiger-like in build though smaller in size: solid packed with muscle, huge fangs and claws sharp as skinning knives embedded in massive platter-like paws. If Alastair could have smiled, he would have. Watching Shardae's coordinated leap eased his nerves a little and left him with room to anticipate the coming battle. It was like fire in his mind, in his lungs, in his blood.

[Shardae]

The Gewyn was hungy, that hunger had clouded all otherwise rational judgement. All he knew was that he was starved, and that he needed blood. Any blood would do at this point - although he really just wanted human blood. He could sense that there weren't as many Guardians out as there usually were, and some part of him remembered that there was a festival today. Most of the Guardians wouldn't be out patrolling, they'd be celebrating with all the worthless humans. There were two Guardians nearby, his nose told him that much. He didn't like the uneven number, but he would do what it took to get his fill.

As Shardae ran, she was frightened. There was no stopping the fear that washed over her and her scent as she charged the large gray Gewyn. She was inexperienced, she knew that, even though she could fight well. The Elders had tested her skills every now and then, and had amended that she was a more-than-satisfactory fighter. However, none of that training had been put into real practice before. She was a proud Guardian, and she didn't want to call on help from Adrian if she could avoid it. She wanted to prove herself, and Shardae was determined to show everyone that they didn't need to be surrounded by squishy, weak humans to want to protect them and succeed.

The Gewyn smelled the female Guardian at the same time he saw her. She was closing in - fast. There was another one, a male, somewhere behind her, but the Gewyn didn't want to stop and see if the male was coming to fight or not. He was going to deal with this female, here and now.

The adrenaline pumped through Shardae's veins as she came within ten feet of the Gewyn. She leaped, her claws extended as she let out another roar. The two collided, a heap of fur, claw, and teeth. Shardae was surprised by the sheer bulk of the hybrid wolf as she tried to claw at his hind legs - he was larger than she was, even if it wasn't by a lot. But, as she had been taught, size didn't matter. Her sapphire blue eyes were bright as she latched onto the Gewyn's back and she hissed in satisfaction as his shocked howl of pain filled the air.

The Gewyn thrashed beneath her, enraged that he was being beaten by a meager female. He could smell the wild fear on her fur - the scent of it enticed him. But he did not allow it to distract him, though the wolfish side of him was loving the whole feel of it. He bucked once, twice, three times, but the Guardian didn't let go. With each buck her claws sank deeper into his back. He yowled and decided to try something different. He rolled, momentarily crushing the Guardian underneath his weight before rolling away. Her claws were gone from his back, and he reared in triumph and leaped for the shocked Guardian.

Shardae felt the air whoosh from her lungs as the Gewyn rolled over her, and sucked it back in the instant the weight was gone. She got to her paws quickly, knowing the Gewyn would be coming back. She wasn't wrong. Shardae barely had time to erect herself when the Gewyn crashed into her a second time, and the pair of them went sprawling in the dirt for a second round. "Alastair, I might need some help!" she called out in her mind, scrabbling at the Gewyn's soft belly fur with her hind claws. She wasn't sure if she was losing or not - she just knew that she wouldn't be able to end this alone. She was too weak, as much as she hated to admit it.

OOC: Let me know if you want me to change something... like an aspect of the fight or something of that sort. It's good to be roleplaying again. xD Haha, but just let me know. Your turn.

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

I have to hand it to the kid.
He thought to himself as he watched the lithe young cat launch herself at the big male Gewin.
She's got guts and she's a good fighter.
She had guts all right; jumping in that way despite the fact that even Alastair could catch a whiff of her fear from the shadows near the guard tower. He hadn't seen her do much yet, but the way she handled herself told him she would be quick and strike where it counted in a fight. As it seemed she was doing, latching onto the beast's back and piercing flesh with her claws. At the wounded wolf's angry howl, Alastair's tail lashed and his eyes glowed. His keen nose scented a bit of stinking blood. Gewyn blood. The scent of it raised his hackles and he bared his teeth involuntarily. She seemed to be doing alright, but attacking a Gewyn who outsized her the way she had, head on, she'd need some help before long. There were few Guardians in Benevolence who could square off with a fully grown male Gewin in combat: Alastair himself, Cedric, and perhaps Griffin. Despite the lankiness to the young blonde cat's body, he was tall and strong. Alastair's thoughts were jerked back to the fight as a sudden change in motion caught his eye.

The fighting pair had moved closer to the base of the tower and then the male Gewyn rolled, pinning Shardae beneath his bulk for a few moments and no doubt knocking the breath out of her at the very least. The young tabby was down for a moment and the older, more experienced Gewyn took advantage of it, hurtling into her and sending her sprawling. Alastair began moving into place, picking the closest corner to the fight and looking down on the winded she cat and the gaunt lupine figure. She was in trouble and a bit of worry sparked behind his eyes.
I'll be damned.
The kid had latched on again, clawing furiously at the Gewyn's soft fluffy underbelly. Despite himself and despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the veteran fighter gave a little feline grin. She'd need to learn to fight smarter if she wanted to win battles on her own but that was something you could learn. But she had heart; that was another important thing to have and you were either born with that or you weren't. She was doing alright for herself, but she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

Alastair, I might need some help![/i][/size][/color]

+Let go of him, Shardae! Roll clear for a moment. Then jump back in when you can!+

He hoped she'd understand he wasn't being arrogant; wasn't pushing her out of a fight she had every right to be in. Frankly, they didn't have time for her to have another hissy fit over her bruised ego. If she was going to be able to get the useful shots in that he knew she could, she'd need to let him take the brute head on. He planned on keeping the Gewyn busy so Shardae could sneak in and do some damage. There was no more time to wonder if Shardae had moved; he could see the lupine form writhing in the dark beneath him. The monster wouldn't stay there long. He had to act quickly, he reminded him self, unsheathing his claws and flexing his muscles in preparation for the shock. Then without a sound, the muscular gray tom dropped like a rock from the tower beam.


(So I know I haven't actually posted as the Gewyn yet, but I need to know if Shardae moved or not before I can keep going. Hope that's alright. I don't mind if your next post is short, I just need to know where she is so I can figure out what his options are.)

[Shardae]

{OOC: 'Kay. This one won't be too long then.}

Shardae heard Alastair's mental voice instruct her. Let go of him, Shardae! Roll clear for a moment. Then jump back in when you can!

She huffed silently. She didn't want to let go, she wanted to hold on and kill the Gewyn for sure. However, she did know that she had called for help, and this was that help coming. Reluctantly, she unlatched her claws from the Gewyn's back and rolled away from the fight so Alastair could take over momentarily. She realized she had fought in a rushed and stupid manner, but she was going to fix that. With a few refinements, Shardae knew she could be a Gewyn killing machine, which pleased her in a way that made her smug.

Shardae shook her head. Her mind had to stay on the fight. She realized that her lungs were heaving, and she was actuall pretty tired. There was a scratch on her shoulder that was bleeding lightly, but there was nothing that couldn't be handled by bandages and sleep. All in all, she'd gotten away almost unscathed. Her fur was ruffled, but that was about it. She crouched a few yards away from the fight, struggling to catch her breath before she threw herself back in it.

[Alastair]

.Alastair.

There was the cold night air rushing by and then there was flesh and fur beneath his extended claws. He landed a bit lower than he'd wanted to, but then he couldn't expect things to go perfectly all the time, now could he? Shardae had moved, bless her soul. The combined weight of the burly grey tom and the Gewyn would have broken bones. There was no time to think beyond that: the Gewyn bucked beneath him like a wild horse, the stench of it rising to sting his nostrils. He snarled, the sound grating and completely feral as his coppery eyes glowed in the night. Quickly, he ducked his head, sinking his fangs into the ruff of the wolf's neck, seeking bone and muscle, nerve and sinew. He planned on getting a firm hold, drawing the beast's attention so Shardae could dart in and bleed it.
Two of them. Two of them now and one on his back: so heavy, almost as large as he was. Now it's teeth were in his flesh and he bayed in anger and in pain. Damn servile cats, all he wanted was blood. Not that they'd understand the hunt, the need to care for yourself. They had it easy, lazy beasts. Play sweet and they got food thrown at them all day. He twisted and leaped, barking in pain and trying to roll again, but the big one was older. Knew the trick and leaned the opposite way, not letting him tip. This would not do, he thought and shifted, feeling his bones crack and shift, feeling muscles stretch. The warm blush of pain made him forget the feline fangs embedded in his neck for a moment.
The creature rolled and shifted. Alastair cursed mentally, hugging the Gewyn's shifting torso, avoiding the grasping claw arms as they reached back over the shaggy neck to grasp at him. The heavy paws caught him some glancing blows and the wicked claws laid open a four inch gash in his shoulder. It hurt for a minute but the vermilion hue that misted over his vision cut short the pain more effectively than willow bark ever could. He risked his grasp and position on the furred bulk beneath him to lift a thick and heavy paw, twisting his claws free and scenting fetid Gewyn blood as he did so. Adrenaline surged at the realization that he'd broken skin. Drawing back the paw, he let fly with all his strength, throwing his weight onto the Gewyn's back and dealt it a hefty blow to the side of the head, claws out and tearing fur and cartilage. It staggered beneath him, but he held on and the growls ricocheting from his throat magnified and echoed in the cold night, sounding for all the world like the screams of a demon loosed from Hell.

+Cut him down Shardae!+

His mindvoice was ragged with effort and exhiliration. He gave no explanation. She was no simpleton. She'd understand.