The Bonding Chronicles Ch. 15

"Relax, Stew, your character is fine," Andrew stated while shifting in his chair at the dining room table, which had been moved into the center of the living room.

To all but the keenest observer, Andrew seemed exactly as he had been Thursday night, when the group of friends had last seen each other. Despite that appearance, Andrew knew the few days he had spent with Sara in the glad since returning from Oregon had changed him; his eyesight had never been better, and he could hear the slightest details — the sound of a car coming down his long driveway brought truth to that realization for the young man.

If anything, Andrew was puzzled by what had not changed; his strength, while still greater than what he knew he should be capable of, had not increased beyond what it had been before his injury. Sara, unlike him, had changed in countless ways, and Andrew was excited to know that every difference had made her more herself. She was affectionate to a fault, finding any and every excuse to touch, kiss, and caress both of her mates.

Her eyes, while amazing, troubled them all, but after a couple of days in the glade, she had learned to control them, changing her almond irises back to round at will. The one thing she could not do, was return their color to light brown, and while they all loved her knew bright amber eyes, they knew that she was now in the same position as Andrew, without the benefit of the contacts that solved the problem for the young man.

While Karen had been a tender and compassionate caregiver, Sara had taken a different — more intensive — approach. The willy woman coaxed Andrew into games of competition, chasing each other through the glade, forcing the injured man to rebuild his muscles the natural way, while testing just how strong and agile Sara's body had become.

Though they both wanted it, Sara refused to have sex with Andrew, contenting herself to give and receive pleasure through many other creative means. For as much as her playfulness had increased, so had her affection, and those three days of recovery had been a welcome and joyful reunion for the young couple.

"Earth to Andrew!" Seth almost yelled with a chuckle, his face squinted up with suspicion as he studied the "Game Master" of their little adventure.

"Sorry, still recovering from my day off, I guess. Where were we?"

Andrew could tell by the wide-eyed stares of his friends that they were dying to ask him about his day, knowing that skipping school was out of character for the young academic. He appreciated that they gave him his privacy, and allowed him to keep his secret.

His introspective aside had bought Stew the time he needed to settle down from the unexpected poisoning of his character, and everyone was pleased to see Stewart's complexion had lost its red hue.

Stewart noticed that all eyes had turned on him, and said, "Yeah, yeah... I still say that's some straight up bullshit."

Andrew flipped through his notes, laughing and shaking his head while he found his place.

"Be that as it may, your character slowly gains consciousness. Darkness and a cool damp floor greet you as you blink the fog from your vision. Despite the long years of drinking and fighting, you're burdened with the greatest headache of your life, and as you push yourself from the storeroom floor, you are surprised to find that your hand has been mended.

"'Bout time, ladie.' The dwarf from the secret door says, as you find your bearings, rising to your feet."

Stewart was still upset, scanning his character sheet for a long moment before he spoke. "I look around. Is there anyone else in the room besides the dwarf?"

Andrew smiled, glad to see that his young friend was still in the mood to play. "The room is well-stocked, with barrels and casks of alcohol stacked along the walls. The dwarf is sitting atop an upturned barrel, smoke billowing out from his mouth as he slowly exhales. The man in white is leaning up beside him, and you get the sense that the two men had been in conversation while they waited."

"Waited for what?"

"Judging from how they are watching you, for you to return to consciousness."

Seth cleared his throat, and then spoke, "Shit, son, we were wondering if you would ever shake off that poison."

Andrew interjected, "The man in white expresses concern over whether you were going to make it, while caressing a holy relic within the palm of his hand."

Seth laughed, and then said, "Yeah, what Andrew said."

Allison rolled her eyes while Stew laughed at Andrew and Seth's exchange.

"Anyways, now that you're back among the conscious, I got a job for you." It was clear that Seth wasn't going to try and speak as his character would, and as Andrew looked upon Allison, Stewart, and Marcus he realized it wouldn't be a problem. They were all just having fun and adjusting Seth's statements based off of who they knew his character to be.

"We need your skills, to be more specific." Marcus chimed up from a beanbag at the corner of the room.

"You're not there, Marcus. It's up to Seth to convince our Berzerker friend here to join your little party," Andrew explained, wanting to maintain some form of continuity. He was struggling not to look towards the door, hearing the car pull up and park a short distance from the house, just far enough that his gift was a few yards short of sensing it.

"Will I be fighting?" Stewart asked, his voice picking up a dumb and excited tone.

With a broad grin, Seth responded, "Most definitely."

"Coin?"

Seth looked at Stewart, puzzled by the simple question for a second, then smiled and said, "Yes, you'll get paid."

"Garthuk is happy to kill for human."

"Don't you want to know how much you'll get paid?" Seth asked with genuine confusion at how Stewart had played his character.

"After dusting myself off, I walk out of the store room without responding to the man in white. I do not ask his name, I do not show any interest in the money. Garthuk is interested in fighting, and any pay is a happy bonus. For now, he is more interested in those last two drinks the barkeep owes him."

Andrew was again surprised by his young friend, realizing how deeply the kid had embraced his character's low IQ and fetish for battle.

The characters gathered together in the bar, and for many minutes Andrew helped them through the forming of their party, the attack by the assassins creating a temporary bond that Andrew had set up to form a more lasting camaraderie between the characters. It was not the most epic of meetings, but it had worked well, and he was excited to see where the journey would take his players, as their adventure continued forward.

His attention kept getting drawn to the door, the silence of the vehicle from his driveway an annoying itch that refused to be scratched. Its inhabitants seemed content to sit within the car, and the mystery of who they were or what they wanted was nagging at the back of Andrew's mind.

Allison was goading Seth, and Stewart was having fun asking annoying questions that his character could have known the answers to, had he the intellect or inclination to guess. Marcus, for his part, maintained his silent vigil, his character sitting at the edge of the other characters within the bar, his direwolf resting at his side while its owner nursed his drink and listened to his companions bicker.

None of them noticed Andrew's pre-occupation, which went a good way to show how well Andrew had hidden his interest with the mysterious vehicle.

"Here's the deal," Marcus began, "I may not know where the artifact is, but I know where we can go to find out. With 'Little Boy Green' here, we have all the talents necessary to secure the location, and then — with a lot of luck — we will be in a position to find it. All I want is the artifact, everything else we find along the way can be shared by all of you."

While Marcus explained what Andrew had discussed with him earlier that day on the phone, Andrew's heart sank as an email arrived on his phone.

"Intrusion Detected," was all the message said, and despite the brevity of the email, he knew where it had came from. A script — one of many, in fact — on his firewall had triggered, notifying him that someone was trying to break into his network. While his friends continued their discussion, Andrew accessed his firewall through the Monolith within his mind.

The commands flowed as fast as he could think them, and on that projected screen within his mind, he was pleased to see that all of his hard work over the years had paid off. Someone had just scanned every port on his firewall, and the speed with which the scan had happened was remarkable. His scripts had worked perfectly, detecting the scan and shutting down the wireless router and gateway interface on his firewall, effectively isolating his network from the internet. Automation processes began at that point, killing every daemon that tried to start on the machine that was not vital.

Several different buffer overflow attacks had been launched before his scripts had shut down the network, and while all of the processes that were being killed were familiar to Andrew, he was still worried that something had gotten through.

If not for Andrew's gift, access to the firewall could only have been achieved with a monitor and keyboard. He checked, and was happy to see that every other device on his network had been shut down — a failsafe he had put in place to ensure that anything that may have found its way onto his firewall would hopefully not have a chance to infect anything else within his network. He knew he had been paranoid, but as he felt the distinct quietness from his normally active home network, he was proud of the work he had done.

It was in that moment, while Marcus tried to get the other players on board with his mission, that the car started back up, and completed its journey towards his house. Andrew knew the moment the sedan was within range of his gift who was driving the mysterious car, and that same revelation made it clear who had just tried to breach his firewall.

Andrew made a show of checking his phone, knowing that his — and all of his friends' devices — had not been attacked like his network had been.

"Hey guys, I think we're gonna have to call it a night."

Seth was about to protest when Alison saw the rattled look on Andrew's face. Recognizing that he was anxious about something, she rested her hand on Seth's shoulder, drawing his attention and stopping his complaint before it had been launched.

"This is going to be amazing, and you all did great, but an unexpected guest just showed up, and I think I'm gonna' need privacy."

He held up his phone, a fake text stating, "I just turned down your driveway," shown on the screen. Everyone was disappointed, they had all expected to play for at least another hour, but as they packed up their belongings, Andrew was glad to sense their excitement at the thought of their next session. Everyone was really getting into their characters, and even in that moment of frustration, all they could talk about was what they would find when they went in search for the location of Marcus's artifact.

Books had been secured in bags, and everyone was in the process of gathering their shoes and jackets when there was a soft and feminine knock on the door. Despite his efforts, everyone could tell that Andrew was on edge, his displeasure at opening the door evident in the way his shoulders slumped at the sound of the woman's polite knock.

Andrew studied the Ocelote within his mind, its amber fur looking majestic, as the cat watched him with a playful intensity. Sara's joy was palpable as he studied the large cat, her emotions pouring off of the translucent icon within his mind in thick waves of eager intent — whatever she was doing, pleased her in ways she had never known before coming into her powers. He was happy for her, but wished he had some way of contacting her — the conversation he was about to have was certain to push some boundaries, and he was uncertain she was ready to have those walls collapsed.

His hand trembled as he gripped the handle, and as the cool steel of the doorknob rested within his palm, he took a deep breath. It had not been much, but that simple act allowed him to center himself, bringing forth the confidence he had learned from Sara, and he hoped the wisdom that Karen had been working to teach him.

As he pulled the door open and his eyes settled on the tall, beautiful woman who stood on the other side, he could not help but notice her long, black hair which had been pulled back into a pristine ponytail that reflected the perfection with which she carried herself. He had once wanted to like the woman, but after the latest assault she had waged upon his network, he held his spiteful tongue, and just said, "Good evening, Vivienne."

***** Predator and Prey *****

Before coming to the Pacific Northwest, introspection was an activity that Thunderfoot had seldom indulged, but as he stood under the silver light of the waning full moon, he appreciated the opportunity that he had been afforded. Life within the mighty forest from where he came had been so different from the one he now lived. He had not struggled against starvation as he had since his arrival in the Pacific Northwest, but had waged a war of wits against the many predators that roamed the dark and hidden places amongst the tall and massive trees.

He could feel it — his home — tugging at his heart and beckoning him to return. But, no matter how hard he searched, the path that had led him there remained a mystery. Thunderfoot thought back, and remembered how the wolf had been fast on his trail, his injured leg slowing him enough that the beast had almost caught him. It had all been such a blur, the rush of the trees as they flew past, the dry heat of the forest at dusk, which seemed to make every scent stand up and shout at him.

The stranglevines were the last familiar thing he remembered. One second he was within the mighty forest, the light of dusk guiding his frenzied escape, and the next, he was hurrying through a soft-floored land of humidity and decay, a savage storm thundering overhead. He wished he could remember the steps he had taken, but despite his efforts he was lost, and home felt further than ever before.

Thunderfoot felt like he could have been happy there, now that he had found Tani'm, but the conflict that the young human created within him could not overshadow the responsibility he felt in his heart. His mate had just had their first children, her heart soared as she nuzzled up to his little ones, and her joy echoed deep within him. The start of his fluffle, a family he had longed for since setting off on his own...

He could hear her, the human, frustration pouring off of the small woman as she began performing her dire task. The jackalope had tried to keep her from heading off into the night, but she set off despite the fear and anxiety she had felt from him. There was something strange within her heart since she had returned the night before.

The strength within her was surprising to Thunderfoot, who knew the extent of the damage that had been done to Tani'm, and could feel her like a kindred spirit, her magic standing out to him like a beacon in the night. She had been weak and frail the day before, when she had run off with that dark-haired woman, but upon returning she was once more renewed — perhaps stronger than he had ever seen her. That gave him confidence and pride in the companion he had found.

What troubled him were the emotions that seemed to compel her after the wolf. He could sense a struggle within her, as if she was fighting some deep hidden truth, and that, more than anything, pulled the woman into the night. It had not taken long for Thunderfoot to realize what she was after, and as she surveyed the carnage of the wolf's latest feeding, her inner conflict acted like a torch, setting her hatred of the beast afire.

Tani'm was impressive, and Thunderfoot admired how she did not allow her emotions to push her into dangerous action. Even as they stalked through the darkened forest, she followed the signs of the wolf with great care and caution.

Thunderfoot hated being out at night, it was counteractive to every instinct he possessed, but he knew that she was not as capable as him of detecting the wolf. She could follow the wolf's trail, but when the great enemy hid, she was lost, and had almost stumbled into the wolf's traps a few times before. So, as Tani'm studied the eviscerated bodies of the elk that had been slain, Thunderfoot surveyed their surroundings, to ensure that they were alone.

"Shit, he was just here," Tani'm said, her words lost on the large rabbit as it watched her. "At least I stopped him from getting much of a meal."

The bodies of the elk had been torn apart, but most of their meat remained. Tani'm wanted to kill the monster that stalked her forest, but knew it was too dangerous. She was again reminded of Andrew, and the struggle he gave her, as she looked upon the open carcases of the two elk that rested before her. She realized that she would need every advantage she could get, if she didn't want to end up like those poor animals.

Thunderfoot had seen carnivores pulling the meat from a body before, but as he watched Tani'm begin to pull the skin from an elk she had hung from a tree, he decided he didn't need to know what would follow. The sight haunted him as he journeyed further from the magical woman, flesh separating from meat in a horrifying tableau that he knew he would never understand. Her presence was known to him by some unknown gift, a feeling he had just become aware of the night before, that somehow told him where she was, and how she was doing.

The stranglevines remained a mystery, hidden somewhere in the forest, protecting what he feared was his one path home. His children and mate were lost to him through a passage he could not find. The one comfort was that he was safe within the night, the mundane rainforest hiding just one threat to his existence.

Or so he thought, he was forced to admit, when he felt a shiver run up his spine. Thunderfoot stood on his hind legs, his antlers standing tall as he peered through the forest. Something was watching him, and it was not the wolf.

Whatever foul beast stalked him was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His ears heard the drips of water and rustling of the wind through the canopy far above, and his nose caught the floral and musky scent of the forest, decay and life all intermingling to create the wondrous bouquet that he had only smelt there, in that forest. For the briefest of moments, he thought he saw it, two silvery eyes watching him from within a tree.

Thunderfoot's heart raced as he took off at a sprint, his supernatural body allowing him to dash through bushes and leap over fallen trees with ease and grace, leaving almost no trace and creating the most subtle of noises. He dared not look back, knowing that whatever he had sensed was following close behind, just as silent, and perhaps with more speed.

He considered leading the creature away from Tani'm, not wanting to endanger the woman's life, but as he considered the thought, he knew she was preparing for his return. He burst through the brush, entering the clearing where Tani'm had already finished her bloody work, and as he skidded to a stop, fear pounding out of his body, she stood facing the forest from where he had come. Tani'm was holding her steel knife and hatchet out to her sides in warning to whatever followed. The sight of the fearsome woman bolstered Thunderfoot's resolve, and as he turned to scan the forest, he saw a shadow dart between two trees.

Whatever it was vanished as soon as he had seen it, but the vagueness of the shape gave him no detail he could hold onto. He knew it was smaller than the wolf, but somehow it remained hidden from him. Even in the land he had come from, there were few creatures that could obscure his ability to sense them, and all of them ate of the grass and vegetation. Stalking and chasing were the domain of the predator, while hiding and evading were the gifts of the prey, or so life as Thunderfoot had known it had always been.