Familiar Face, Unfamiliar Land
[ Previous: ]
Trico’s response was almost instinctive, as if he was in-sync with Yamikumo’s motives right from the start. Flapping his wings, he swooped to the side before the other beast could grab him, eyes still locked on where the light was shone on. Curving inwards, the end of his tail quickly glowed with energy...
A shot of lightning was thrown, but the other trico had quickly barreled away with unnatural timing. Back on the ground, the others of the flock were beginning to to grow impatient on their feet. Standing on hind legs and clawing up at the sky, their warcry echoed at the two from below, more so as an act of encourage for the alpha than impatience for a taste of blood.
As soon as the alpha was turning heel to charge for Yami and his companion, something interrupted it partway. A faint whirring sound was beginning to reverberate from the alpha’s scruff, disrupting its focus, its conscience, and making it shake its head in distraught. The four, grounded tricos had also began expressing signs of distress.. and soon enough, Trico had begun to writhe from the noise as well.
Both airborne beasts were unable to keep their balance, eventually dropping back down on solid earth to join the rest of their disoriented kind. Trico paced ground, shaking his head with ears folded back and snarling aggressive threats to himself. A man was there, right on the alpha’s back, waving some stringed instrument around which was causing that deafening noise. There was that familiar insignia on the handle he held -- the alchemists’ mark. Another device existed to control the winged beasts, and it worked remarkably well.
Before long, all of the tricos began to collapse to their feet, completely preoccupied and in distraught. As the man slid off of the alpha’s back, a single-handed crossbow was immediately being aimed at Yamikumo. He spoke in the continent’s native language, but it wasn’t hard to decipher what he said.
“Give me the trico and leave, or become my pets’ snack.”
