[Event] The Wild Hunt - Cornered

Pride had, in fact, absolutely no idea that this was a test, of some form. A hunt. He assumed, when first spirit-like prey and then massive, monstrous hunter came barreling through Orion, that it was a deadly situation, something serious and potentially tragic.

He saw familiar figures fleeting by--James, and Attikias--and the behemoth Draconua-? Was this some enemy, the newest Raheerah-? (And at this, horrific memories of the black dragon's assault on Orion, of melting, blistering buildings and screams, roared through his mind like a cloud of blown cinders.) Hackles rose, pupils dilating to full, as the stag sprang into full speed toward the ruins.

"JAMES? ATTIKIAS-?" he called, and was that Comet, over there-

Hooves clattered, stumbled, righted on rock. White cervine body smoothly leapt over an outcrop of jagged quartz, and he sailed with another stagger and swift recovery into the ruins after Draconua.

In he skidded, turning, terror in his eyes as he attempted to simply... halt what was happening, to create an area where those in the Quarry's pursuit would be lifted a little, held--stopped--until Pride knew that nobody was in immediate mortal danger.

It was focused mainly on the monstrous-... well, monster, trying to crash through the rocks. "What's going on?" Pride demanded, his cry ringing out. "What are you doing?"

The movement was what had him going, a blur of motion and violence that left his mind swimming in it and craving more. Blood-hot rage spurred the panting calf to greater heights of spinning, head-thrusting, kicking at nothing-...

The various shapes flicking past him drew his ire, one at a time--the behemoth that was Draconua flashing far into the distance before he could reach her, the swift motions of Talys, of Comet and Attikias, of Null. There were stags both white and brown, their blurred forms leaving Abaddon spinning, snorting, striking thin air. A small striped thing that got up too high before he could reach it, his head cracking off the stone she leapt onto, and he only saw further red.

The horse-thing (James, in fact) with wings was circling, and the black calf could see it sweeping this way and that and THAT, like everything actually, made him mad!

At one of James's passes, Abaddon reared, half-leaping with a thrust of muscled little head and an angered snort for the passing winged-thing. He'd miss, of course, but it was an admirable attempt, at least.

He crashed back to the ground after, and flailed, cloven hooves swiping the air before scrabbling the calf back to his feet, where he spun and looked for his next opponent.

Warrior galloped on, hearing the thunder of other hooves--clacking of stags', smashing of horses', cracking of calf's. And the flap, too, of wings, the slapping of paws--the exodus from Cetus was immense.

He was caught up in it, forgetting, for a time, the stress and worries of his day to day, of his traumas and his fear, of logic. Instead he was lost in the chase, in the hunt, exhilaration leaving nostrils flared and phosphorescent eyes wide, leaving a coat slicked with sweat.

That old feeling of indomitable, undying bravery sparked through him: a little bit of triumph, a splash of mischief--and at the monster Draconua crashing through ruins, he offered a little hazard of his own.

He meant it not to harm, but to obstruct; he intended a massive spike of earth to thrust up jagged before her, a shelf to block her from the Quarry. It was smaller than he'd expected, though--a hurdle and not a wall.

Still... perhaps it would buy the prey a little time. Warrior wanted to see it escape.

THE WILD HUNT

CORNERED

Aiding the Huntsmen and Hounds Madhukar, Draconua, Kitty, Abaddon, Effluvium
Aiding the Quarry James, Attikias, Talys, Pride, Warrior, Khloros, V-Chaos-Two
Observing Aran, Tahi-shei, Null, Comet

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James's wisp had formed, though it wasn't yet in real view of the Huntsmen--once it was thrown, perhaps it would distract them. Madhukar, boldly making her way--with stealth--through the ruins, would find the fox-like wispy form of the Quarry darting in and among the rubble. It was desperate, frantic, fear in its ghostly eyes, terror as it turned, briefly, to regard her. Was its fate in her hands-? And, too, in that of Kitty--now also catching up, finding the Quarry as it searched for another hiding place, or another route down which to flee. And here was Effluvium, a violent mass of flesh plunging through the alleyways, hot on the Quarry's trail.

Perhaps the Quarry's fate was in their hands, Draconua having failed at stopping it. Instead, the behemoth was crashing through a wall, one that crumbled, sending half a ton of stone weight barreling against her body. Given her size, it would likely not do much damage--but it would likely bruise, at least. And on the other side, at the back of the Hunt, Attikias was racing after them. Failing to keep up, but it was, perhaps, the thought that counted. The intent. Talys was ignored, his childish cry carrying no weight to it.

Pride's spell would briefly halt those giving chase, those who hadn't already passed him--Madhukar and Kitty were safe, but pursuers who had failed to pursue would now be stopped, lifted, at least for a moment. Whether his demands were answered, however, was another question altogether. A few of the ghostly Huntsmen and their Hounds drifted into his little circle of influence--and upward; others diverted, charging around the edges of his magic and plunging headlong into the ruins. Abaddon's charge at James would not connect, low as it was, though the attempt was boldly made. The spike of earth driven upward by Warrior, likewise, would prove but little more than a temporary obstacle to Draconua.

Lagging behind, Khloros was nearly as far back as the cluster of Observers: he entered the Ruins lost, the Hunt swiftly drawing off ahead. They were slowed, however, by V-Chaos-Two's abrupt flash of light.

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It took a moment, but The Wild Hunt--slowed, blinded, held in place--regained itself a moment later, thundering spectral hooves in a now-scattered rush splitting through the ruins. The ancient stone became the banks of a ghostly river, the Hounds the froth at the head of this flash flood, the Huntsmen threatening to overflow its bounds. And far ahead, the Quarry became a Hare, again: swift, wild-eyed, bounding with the terror-thump of its heart rapid-fire, audible, a pounding snare drum echoing alongside the musical thud of hooves behind it.

As the Hunt poured into these ruins, so too did the energy of it pour through the Gembound present. The exhilaration of the chase, the thrilling terror of the Quarry, the savage determination of the Huntsmen, ran through them: through the Observers, through those helping the prey, through those chasing alongside the Hunters and their Hounds. All thoughts were driven from their minds as the twilit fog poured through the buildings. Only instinct remained, in a strange and magical moment, where they became one with the Hunt: a part of it, as if they had always been. This was instinct, this was the nature of them: animals, beasts, predators and prey, chasing and giving chase, hiding on the sidelines to watch another's life or death... Whatever their choice, they were now a part of it.

Conscious thought was gone. Only the thrill of the Hunt remained. There was a purity in it, both bitter and sweet.

Each twist of shaped fog was illuminated by Orion's glittering starlight, every turn and corner a shifting and uncertain mirage, a billowing display of labyrinthine light. And the body of each Gembound, as they bolted through, as the fog parted around them only to close behind, was but a shape in the greater pattern.

The Chase was a close one. But it looked, now, as though the Quarry might escape... drawing farther and farther ahead, widening the gap, its panting desperation flinging it towards freedom as the Hounds and their Huntsmen were slowed, searching, through the ruins.

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This is the final posting round for The Wild Hunt, and the last one in which new characters may join. More information on the start of this event can be found here.

James inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled. He had one chance! He pulled himself out of Pride's anti-gravity well with a few flaps, since gravity didn't affect air enough for his wings to become useless.

"It's the hunt, Pride!", he called out behind him, "You hunt, you aid, or you watch!"

But he couldn't talk now. He pulled up his legs as Abbadon lunged for him, the bull missing by a mile with him up in the air. He flew forward as fast as he could, thankful for his trusty wings, his wisp following behind like a faithful companion.

The hunters were pushed back, he just needed to take care of the Gembound. He reeled back like a pitcher and threw the wisp, the projectile turning white at the edges as it flew towards Madhukar, though he didn't know it was her (though he would be a little pleased).

All that would be felt would be an impact and a tingle, nothing truly painful, only to distract and to divert the attention of who it hurt, namely the odd cloaked figure making their way to the quarry. And he couldn't let that happen.

With his head filling with the thrill of the hunt, he dropped to the ground and ran instead, legs flying over the stone floor, his neck stretching out, tail flying like a banner. Others would be hard pressed to catch up with him even on the ground, what with his natural speed and the need to run, to fly, to race. He couldn't be caught.

Chaos-Two saw the destruction of Draconua and blanched a bit, staring at her as she moved, her shape unmistakable even to the half-blind hybrid. Shaking their head, they hobbled forward, taking their staff in their jaws and getting down on all fours to run instead.

They sprung forward, wincing with each landing as their extra pelvis jostled, but a lifetime of ignoring the pain seemed to come in handy, as they flew over the ground, their antelope genes at least allowing them to travel a little faster for a short amount of time, enough to try and catch up.

They stood and leaned on their staff after a bit of running, breathing in and out, in and out, already winded, but not because they were out of shape. They breathed in and growled. No, they wouldn't be left behind.

They barreled off again, the hunt seeping into their veins, their very bones, pushing them on.

Oh lovely they were immune. Immune to what? They don't know! To Drac's shenanigans? Unlikely!!!!