luarkeja:
WITHOUT PURPOSE NOR ARMAMENTS, it would appear the hunter had little choice but to simply adapt; survive. his people were born for this, to welcome the unexpected for with it came opportunity– to grow, to become better, to evolve. so he did as he was taught, albeit to his annoyance. it didn’t sit well with him to be stripped of his weaponry, to reach for something and find his hip bare or gauntlet inoperable. he could manage without, but nevertheless he felt… restless.
perched high in a tree framing a thoroughfare, one of many, he watched, and waited. it had been quiet for some time, as night fell and lulled the city to a slumber. few things were active at this hour, he noted, and whilst seated upon the topmost sturdy branch, veiled by a canopy of browning leaves, a foot up beside him.
a rhythmic scuff of an encroaching tread drew his heed sharply, and he flicked his head toward it. he rose to both feet, a hand grasping the branch above his head for support, as soon, something came into view– a human female, unarmed. her silhouette stood stark against the cold, flooded with heat, and his gaze followed her passing, regarding it with a low and hushed growl. there was little point in pursuing her, particularly without his tech, so he would observe… for the moment.
Sʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵈᵃᵐⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡᶦⁿᵍ. ᴸᶦᵏᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᶦⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ. ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ʷᵃˢ ᵏᵉᵉᵖᶦⁿᵍ ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ, ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵠᵘᶦᵗᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᶦᵗ. ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ, ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᶦⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᶦᵗ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ.
ᴹᵃʸᵇᵉ ᶦᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵈᵃᵐⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵗ. ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁿᶦᵍʰᵗ ᶦᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ. ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵗ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉ. ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵇᵉⁿᶜʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ˢʷᵉᵃᵗ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵉᵗ. ᵀᵉᵠᵘᶦˡᵃ ᵗᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶻᶦᵖᵖᵉʳ, ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᶦᶜʰ ʳᵘⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰᶦⁿ.. ᶠᶦᵛᵉ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ. ᶻᶦᵖᵖᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ᵐᵘᶜʰ.
ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᶦᵉᵈ ᶦᵗ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵃᶦˢᵗ. ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᶦᵗᵉ ᵗᵃⁿᵏ ᵗᵒᵖ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵉˣᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ. ᴼⁿᵉ ᵃʳᵐ ᵇᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳ ᵗᵃᵗᵗᵒᵒˢ. ᵀʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐ ᵇᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵗᵗᵒᵒ, “USCM” ᶦⁿ ᵇᶦᵍ ˡᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˢ. ᴹᶦˡᶦᵗᵃʳʸ ᵍᶦʳˡ, ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˡʸ. ˢᶦⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᶦᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉⁿᶜʰ. ᴳᵉᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᶦˡᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵍᶦᵛᶦⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃˡᵏᵉʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵏᶦᶜᵏ ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃˢˢ. ᵀʰᵃᵗ ᶦˢ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶦˢ ᵃⁿ ᵃˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏᶦᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶦˢⁿ’ᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶻʸ.
