The Bonding Chronicles Ch. 12

The large man's eyes went wide for a moment as he glowered at her, then seeming to come to a decision, he unshouldered his rifle and started protecting another flank. Tani'm focused her will on the dirt as she pressed it against the man's wound, who gasped out in pain as his mind tried to process what was happening to him. The soil grew warm, as a floral scent filled the air.

The wounded man seemed to settle, and when Tani'm removed her hands from the man's stump, the dirt appeared as if it were weather-worn bark from a tree. She studied her handiwork, ensuring that the protective casing would keep her magical poultice in place. He would never get his arm back, but at least he would live.

Tani'm studied the sky for a moment, and realized that night would be falling soon. She had to press on, knowing that every bit of magic the creature had used to heal, was a bit of magic it would not have to defend itself. If she was to have any chance of ending this threat, it was now.

"You need to get this man out of here."

She studied the men, and saw the relief on the hunters' faces, as they realized they may not have to face the wolf again. The ex-military man looked her up and down, realizing that she was not going to be leaving.

"Fuck that. This is our forest, and no puppy is going to take that from us."

His confidence was remarkable, but the slight crack in his voice showed his uncertainty. Tani'm placed her hand on his shoulder, and smiled up into his face, "You are a credit to our people, but once night falls, the wolf's advantage will only grow. Without you, they may never make it out of this forest."

Tani'm could see the indecision in his eyes, but knew that the honorable man would not leave unless it was for a noble cause. Once his shoulders slumped, she knew that she had convinced him.

"Get them to safety," she commanded, before vanishing into the woods.

Her instincts were right, and the wolf was growing weak. Its tracks were no longer obscured by its magical nature, which meant that she might stand a chance against it. There were patches of blood from time-to-time as she followed the trail, and she knew that the beast had suffered another wound when it attacked the group of hunters the second time.

Thunderfoot followed beside her, anxious and hungry, which had been the two predominant emotions she had felt from the large rabbit ever since it had found its way into her life. She shook her head and laughed as she tracked the great wolf, its winding path leading her far from the location of the previous ambush.

The sky grew dark, and for several hours Tani'm tracked her prey, the wolf refusing to rest, despite its wounds. The wolf led her in several circling paths, crossing much of the forest and bringing them back to the site of their first one-on-one battle. The hunting party was long gone, the smell of death hanging in the air from the bodies that rested a couple hundred yards away.

Wildfang stood in the center of the clearing, his body seeming less majestic and fearsome, the magical healing he had performed having taken its toll. Tani'm was coated in sweat, and felt her exhaustion down to her bones, the long miles she had travelled to keep up with the wolf having sapped her of much of her power.

The full moon shone through the cloudless sky, filtering through the shifting leaves of the canopy above them, and illuminating the final battleground of these two fearsome warriors. Wildfang ran his long tongue across his teeth, famished and craving the annoying woman's blood. Tani'm brandished her knife, its bone blade honed to a dangerous edge, and the wolf eyed the weapon, fear in its eyes as it studied the small woman.

What had began several hours ago would be concluded in the same place it had started, as the two adversaries charged towards each other. The great wolf dodged her sweeping strike, hopping back before lunging forward and biting at her leg. She shifted away, avoiding the bite that would have seized her and spelled her doom.

Wildfang ran into her, knocking her back with his shoulder, before turning his head with the intention of catching her falling body in his mouth. He realized his mistake just as she came into view, and while she was falling backward, her knife was already at his head. The great beast managed to twist his face, causing the edge of the blade to make contact with the upper ridge of his eye socket, and as a large section of the blade snapped off, the rest of the knife scraped across his skull, opening a thin but deep wound along his scalp.

Tani'm had thought she was about to kill the monster, but its reflexes were too good, and what would have been a life-ending blow to the eye turned into a bloody — but annoying — scratch. She rolled back, and kept her focus on the wolf as she came to her feet. The beast was right there, refusing to give her any distance, knowing that it had the advantage in close quarters.

Their combat lasted for many long minutes, neither opponent managing to score a decisive blow. Tani'm kept her limbs and body out of the wild wolf's mouth, while the beast prevented her from burying the jagged remains of her blade into its face. Their agility was spectacular and well-matched, each of them keeping from exposing themselves while the fight pressed on.

Tani'm spotted her hatchet reflecting the moonlight a dozen yards away. Her broken knife would make it difficult to kill the wolf, but the hatchet would give her a bit more reach, and that might prove to be the advantage she needed. She maintained her focus, trying to find her opening, when the opportunity presented itself.

The wolf lunged at her midsection, and as she hopped back, avoiding the grasping attack, the beast over-extended its leg, slipping on some loose soil. Its claws failed to find purchase, and the entire wolf's body listed to one side as it tried to regain its footing.

Tani'm planted her foot behind her, stopping her backwards momentum from her previous dodge, before jumping forward, sailing over the wolf's back. She slammed the stubby knife into the side of the creature's neck, hilting the weapon into place as she used her hands to guide her roll across the broad furry back of the great wolf. She landed at the rear quarters of the large beast, taking off in a sprint.

The pain-filled whimper of the wolf was followed by a guttural growl, as it turned and gave chase to the frustrating woman. The blade in its neck was painful, but not life-threatening.

Tani'm made it to the hatchet with supernatural speed, and grabbed the weapon off the ground as part of a tactical roll, before coming to her feet with an upward slash. The wolf avoided the attack, and they both knew that one of them would need to end this soon — fatigue was settling in on both adversaries.

They exchanged a few attacks, but neither of them was finding the opening they needed. Tani'm was pressing a terrain advantage, unleashing a flurry of attacks as she drove the wolf through the shallow pond. Her eyes grew wide as she saw what the wolf was preparing to do, but it was too late. As she buried the hatchet into the beast's cheek, breaking off a couple of its teeth, her wrist was clenched within its mouth.

The sound of cracking bones filled the clearing as the wolf's jaw tightened down. Tani'm punched the side of the wolf's face as she tried to pull her arm from its hold. She could feel its tongue moving against her hand as it pulled against her and whipped its head from side to side, trying to knock her off her feet.

After a few moments, the wolf growled and yanked with extreme force. Tani'm's cries intensified as her hand was ripped from her body just above the wrist. She fell back, the shock of her wound sapping her strength as her eyes grew wide in horror. Wildfang bit down on her leg as she kicked out towards him.

He chewed on Tani'm's flailing leg, savoring her screams as the taste of her blood washed over his senses. She was more delicious than he had imagined she would be.

Wildfang had been so focused on his victory that he failed to notice the large rabbit that was rushing towards him. Thunderfoot hurtled through the air, knowing that he needed to protect his friend. The wolf released her leg and turned its head, just in time to witness the rabbit's greatest moment.

A thunderous boom filled the air as the jackalope made contact, its powerful legs lashing out and knocking the mighty wolf a dozen feet away. Several of Wildfang's ribs shattered as the rabbit unleashed its attack, and as the wolf stood, he could see the rabbit standing between him and his prize. The jackalope looked feral as it pounded its foot into the ground and waved its horns in his direction.

Wildfang began to move towards the rabbit, knowing that it would not be able to stand against him, when his side exploded in renewed pain as a projectile tore through his guts. The sound of a large caliber rifle filled the air, and Wildfang was knocked to the side. He looked into the forest, seeing the large human working the lever action of his rifle with trained speed. He growled his rage at these intruders, before retreating into the forest.

As the ex-military man came into the clearing, his .357 magnum aimed into the dark forest, he made his way to Tani'm. She was struggling to remain conscious as her life pumped from the torn flesh that existed where her hand had once been. He was distracted for a moment by the jackalope, the two-and-a-half-foot tall rabbit brandishing its large ten-point antlers towards the forest.

Tani'm blinked away her tears, focusing her will on slowing her heartrate, while she tried to gain control of her shivering body. It took a few moments, but she managed to regain her senses. She chastised herself under her breath, while she dug her left hand into the ground and pulled forth a dense, moist clump of soil. It hurt like hell when the magical poultice was first applied, but as the clump of earth heated, the pain subsided.

She cried out as the ex-soldier tied his belt around her leg, cutting off the circulation to the massive wounds that the wolf had inflicted to her calf and thigh.

"How are you still alive?" the man asked, shock written across his face.

Tani'm opened her eyes, tears clouding her vision as she tried to focus on him.

"I'm just lucky, I guess," she responded with a weak voice, before coughing as her throat tensed with pain.

Something was wrong, the poultice was not working. The magical balms that had been created under the bark-like exterior should have helped her flesh mend and scab over. Tani'm would never have her hand again, she knew that, but her healing should have been accelerated with the aid of her magical construct. While the bleeding had been stemmed, she could tell that her wound was refusing to heal.

She could sense fear radiating from Thunderfoot as the rabbit looked at her open leg. It peered into her ashen face, remorse written behind its eyes, before it rested its head against her side. Tani'm could tell that the supernatural creature was already mourning her loss, and that this was his way of saying goodbye.

In that moment it raised its head, its horns rising up in a dramatic arc as it peered into the forest. Tani'm thought she heard something in the distance, and as fear gripped her, the jackalope blossomed with hope, its foot pounding out an excited beat as its nose twitched in happy anticipation. In a blink, Thunderfoot was gone, his powerful legs carrying him into the forest on some unknown task.

"What the fuck was that all about?" the man asked.

Her mouth felt dry, and it was getting difficult to speak, but Tani'm managed to whisper, "Hope," before everything went dark.

***** Combat Becomes You *****

Andrew arrived at the gym with an eager anticipation that surprised Mr. Spencer. The large man deflected Andrew's attempts at piecing together his past, before they both donned their protective headgear and mouthguards, the invaluable device saving him the effort of having to feign ignorance of Andrew's suspicions.

Whatever confidence Andrew held from his earlier experience with Bruce was dashed upon the treacherous shores of Mr. Spencer's well-honed skill. Andrew had thought he was ready to spar, and Mr. Spencer agreed, but for different reasons. When the men touched gloves and Andrew came out swinging, the large man was forced to dodge and deflect a couple of fast, but clumsy attacks.

Mr. Spencer could see Andrew's attacks coming before the teenager had even thrown his punch. He could tell that the strikes were powerful, more powerful than he would have expected from such a small man, but they lacked skill or control. Andrew was flailing at every opening he thought he saw, and Mr. Spencer resolved himself to make the late-teen regret his eagerness.

With every misplaced strike, Andrew was punished. It began with strikes to his upper arms, then graduated to hits to the side of his head, and what surprised Andrew most, was that it was not until his teacher began to lay strikes into his sides, that he started to feel the pain of the large man's well-placed attacks.

The ex-military instructor never attacked, unless it was in response to Andrew's failing offense, and within fifteen minutes his strategy had begun to work. Andrew was nervous to throw a punch, and Mr. Spencer could see the indecision in the boy's eyes as he considered each attack, and chose to wait.

Andrew realized the folly in what he had been doing, his eagerness to show what he was capable of causing him to make a fool of himself. As he circled the large man, he saw the eager eyes of a predator. He tried feigning an attack, but the older man never fell for the trick, instead shifting away and gaining a better position. After five more minutes of ineffectual circling, the two men stopped.

They removed their mouthguards and looked at each other, their breath coming in steady gasps.

"How the hell do you attack without opening yourself up?" Andrew asked, his voice full of frustration.

Mr. Spencer grinned and nodded his head, before responding, "Let me show you."

As the teacher put his mouthguard back into place, Andrew swallowed back his fear. "What the hell did I just ask for?" he wondered, as he bit down on his mouthguard and touched gloves.

It was Andrew's turn to be on the defensive, but Mr. Spencer was careful. All of his strikes were fast, and while most of them never connected, they left the teacher in a position to react before Andrew could punish him for his attempt. Over the next twenty minutes, Andrew dodged and blocked what felt like countless offensive maneuvers, each combination building on the last. Every time Andrew thought he saw an opening, he realized that his instructor was already moving to close it.

Mr. Spencer backed away, hitting his gloves together, before pulling his gloved hands towards himself, compelling Andrew to go on the offensive. While Andrew's jabs were slow, the few that were not foretold by his shoulders, often resulted in a near hit.

As the evening pressed on, Andrew improved. Each clumsy opening attack was punished with a firm but subdued strike, and after forty minutes, Andrew's offense had grown by leaps and bounds. He was still taking a lot of hits, but the large man admired the speed with which Andrew learned. Every failed attack had lead to an improvement, and the following attempts would always show signs of adaptation.

Andrew was bouncing on his toes as he took off his gloves, the wiry muscles casting shadows along his forearm from the overhead lighting. After removing his protective gear, and tossing Mr. Spencer a water, he chuckled and savored the tender feeling of satisfaction that ached through his body.

Whether his enjoyment of being pushed so far was a result of what he had been doing to Sara, or was a pre-existing aspect to his gift, remained unknown to him. What Andrew did know, was that he had never felt so alive, and was grateful to have found this aspect of life, which he would have never appreciated otherwise.

Mr. Spencer had packed up his gear, and was preparing to leave when he called back, "See you tomorrow, Andrew."

Andrew smiled and responded, "Have a good night, sir. Hope your report to your C.O. comes out well." He laughed as Mr. Spencer shook his head in response to his statement. "I can proofread it if you want, sir."

"That won't be necessary, soldier," Mr. Spencer said as he pushed open the door to the hallway, before turning and looking at Andrew, "My computer has spellcheck."

They both laughed.

Andrew's sweaty body made the outside world seem colder than he had remembered, and while he had gotten to his SUV and started the heater in record time, he was struggling to wait for the warm air to start flowing. He listened to the radio, while combat strategies were dancing through his mind. His fingers tapped along to the music, while his shoulders and head dipped and jerked in feigned combat.

He had made it about halfway home when he felt something startling and unexpected: Karen was consumed with fright, while Sara was overwhelmed by caution. He checked his phone, the monolith reporting that everything was clear on the cyber front. The last message from either of his mates remained a text from Sara, stating, "PEO: Went to K's, seeya later. XOXO" The vehicle swerved in its lane while Andrew struggled to figure out what to do.

Karen's anxiety was growing, and Sara was on edge. He could almost feel the strong woman's pulse pounding as she focused on her surroundings. "Damnit!" he declared with impotent rage, as he felt his women struggling with something profound. Then it hit him. As Karen began to grow weak, Andrew felt her pulling him towards her.

The moment he knew the direction, he pressed the pedal to the floor, and rocketed down the highway.

***** Unexpected Invitation *****

Earlier that night, Karen was excited when she answered her door, and found Sara panting on the other side. The young woman was coated in sweat, and did not wait for an invitation before she stepped inside.

"Wow, what a great run," Sara declared, as she kicked off her shoes.

The older woman was forced to shake her head and chuckle while she admired the baggy clothes clinging to the shapely girl before her. She shook herself from her distracting thoughts, and closed the door before asking, "Would you like some water, my dear?"

Sara giggled and smiled at Karen before responding, "Oh, that would be the best!"

Karen could tell that Sara considered leaning in and giving her a kiss, but after a moment's thought, the young woman decided against it. Instead, she bounced into the living room, where she took up position in front of the fireplace, facing her hands out towards the flickering flames while she oohed and aahed.

The two friends caught up, and Karen was happy to hear the story of her mate's evening, getting to know the reason behind all of the excitement and joy she had felt from Andrew. The truth of their situation was made clear in that conversation, with Karen realizing that it would be a long time until she would be able to participate in the life they had formed, and her existence felt all the more lonely for the contrast.

Sara tossed a jade statuette between her hands, the priceless artifact causing Karen to watch with tense anticipation as it tumbled through the air. For long moments they talked, enjoying each other's company and newfound familiarity, when Karen stood and looked through the window.

"What is it?" Sara asked, as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Karen ran to the closet, tossing Sara a coat before grabbing one for herself.

"I'm not sure..." she paused, looking at a wall as if she could see through it, "but I think something terrible is happening."

The two woman ran outside, Karen pointing Sara towards the woods and following the agile woman who led her through the forest.