Caracara's Hunt 93 Poison And Beasts

"Arawn?" the boy called when he was a few lunges away. There was a note of weariness in his voice.

The distance wasn't perfect, but it was clear that the boy would not come closer without some sort of enticement. Yet Arawn had no clue what it was. Was the problem that he looked too threatening?

It was worth a try, so he lowered himself to the ground. His back leg screamed in protest, and he didn't bother bending it and just extended it to the side. It made him feel like a lame, but it was kind of the truth. The only reason he wasn't attacking but playing tricks was because he couldn't run well on three legs.

The human boy's expression changed slightly, but not in a good way. He glanced back at his adult companion with alertness evident in his pose. His body was relaxed, but in the way a rabbit is relaxed while eating gra.s.s. It only looks so to the untrained eye. The little creature is actually prepared to bolt away at the merest sign of danger.

"Something's wrong with him," the boy said, then returned his gaze to Arawn. "He's not acting normal."

"All I see is a beast," the adult said with slight amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice. "You sure it's him?"

The boy glared at his companion. "Do you think we'd still be standing here if it was any other beast?"

"Good point."

The two advanced then, and Arawn hid a grin behind his paw. Humans were always so simple. Their curiosity was even worse than a cat's.

The boy began to say something again, calling out to him, but Arawn no longer paid any attention to his words. He watched the two humans' movements from beneath his half-closed lids and waited with baited breath. A couple more steps and…

He pushed off the ground and pounced on the child. His leg shuddered from the impact, and even with his dull sense of pain, he felt like screaming, but it was enough. He got off the ground and was flying toward his target.

Yet the kid wasn't as unsuspecting as Arawn had hoped. Despite them being really close, the boy used his small size to his advantage and rolled away from the brunt of the attack. Arawn only tore his shoe apart.

His speed stunned Arawn, but he didn't waste time to think about it. Instead, he dived for the boy again. Even if he lost his back leg, his teeth and claws were as sharp as ever.

The boy wasn't lying still though. In a single motion, he rose to his feet and jumped to the side to avoid another attack. When Arawn swiped at him with a front leg, which was a surprisingly challenging maneuver with only three working legs, the kid pulled out two daggers to block him.

They got sliced through, but it slowed down Arawn's attack enough for the boy to dodge. Not having expected that, Arawn lost his balance. His body wavered, about to fall, and while he tried to catch it, the boy got past his guard and jumped on his back.

This was humiliating enough, but Arawn had bigger problems than his dignity. The human child held two blades that could be stabbed into his eyes. It was a strangely familiar tactic—he felt like he'd seen it happen before—and it sent him in a panic. He couldn't lose his vision!

The boy was posed to do it, but for a fraction of a second, he hesitated. It was more than enough time for Arawn to drop to the ground and roll on his back. The kid had to push away in a rush, which landed him in a heap of limbs.

When he tried to stand up, Arawn swiped the feet from under him with his tail and rose above him. His ma.s.sive size was almost ridiculous when compared to the human child's. What would his kin think if they found out that he had trouble with a baby whose teeth had barely grown?

Luckily, no one was around to see. With relief, Arawn lowered his head and grinned at the human child breathing heavily under his foot. He opened his jaw to snap his neck, but then hesitated.

The kid's face was familiar. Before, he had dismissed it as his imagination, but up close, even his smell was familiar. His words, although pointless, seemed like something he had heard before as well.

How could it be though? He was a caracara, and the child was human. Their races had never had a cordial relationship. From the time immemorial, it was kill or be killed between them.

Yet his memory was a mess. He couldn't recall what he had done the day before, let alone a week or a month ago. But that wasn't the right way to describe it. He could reach his memories, it was just that they didn't make any sense. They had been filtered through the lens of human eyes, which made it a headache for him to sift through them.

Now he did it though, and it left him even more puzzled than before. Why did humans have so many types of relationships? He couldn't understand what the kid was to him. He was neither pack nor not pack, but he was more important than just any human.

Was he prey then? But that didn't make sense either. The boy had to be higher up than prey for him to stop his attack. He would never hesitate to slay his dinner.

He wasn't a caracara to be pack or not pack though. This left him hanging without a category, which was very human-like, and it p.i.s.sed Arawn off. He wasn't human, so why did he have to trouble himself with their ways?

Shaking away the momentary confusion, he opened his jaw again. Once he killed the boy, everything would be over. There would be no more need to wrack his head over how his own memories did not make any sense.

Yet as he opened his jaw, a cloth fell on his nose. Arawn sniffed it and looked to the side at the adult who had slipped his mind a long time ago. It was quite a bad practice to ignore the adults and focus on the children; it was better to first take care of the real threat.

Arawn lifted his foot off the kid and tried to put it on the ground, but it somehow escaped him. Stunned, Arawn looked down to see the brown road swimming away from him. Moments later, it was replaced by the blue sky, and his eyes closed shut.

"What did you?" the boy's voice echoed from somewhere far away.

"Sleeping drug," the adult answered. "It's more effective than I thought. I might have overdosed a…"

___

Arawn had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but once his mind cleared, he knew that something horrible had happened. He was moving, buut not by himself. His eyes were covered, making it impossible for him to see, but he could feel the motion of his body.

Hooves clapped against the ground in a steady rhythm, reminding him of an animal humans loved to enc.u.mber with carrying them. They also had some wooden creatures that needed dragging around that could bring around other animals.

Not happy with being towed along, Arawn tried to stand up, but his legs didn't budge. They were secured by something heavy to the wooden surface that prevented him from moving in the slightest. Even when he extended his claws, they could reach nothing.

He then tried to reach his bindings with his teeth, but even his neck was secured to the wooden surface. And if that wasn't enough, a muzzle had been put on his mouth, which made it impossible to open it.

The humans seemed to have thought of everything, which didn't bode well for Arawn. He started to really worry for his life.

"Are you awake?" the human child asked from somewhere nearby.

Arawn instinctively tried to raise his head, but only bruised his neck at the iron binding. It sent his mind reeling, and he growled to express his distaste for what had been done to him. If they outsmarted him, they should have killed him. What was this about bringing him around like bait?

"What happened to you? You were your usual self when we separated the day before."

A low growl was his only answer. Arawn tugged at his bindings, but all he achieved was more bruising. It didn't hurt, but it left a deep mark on his pride. How could he have been caught by the humans who could not face him in groups of twenty, let alone two?

It should have been impossible.

Then again, they had cheated. Did they have no dignity? How could they drug him in the middle of a fight!

"Stay still if you understand me. If you do that for half a day, I'll release you."

Arawn did not pay attention to his words. He was a caracara, so he could leave by himself. He didn't need some human boy to free him.

Yet as time went by and his injuries grew worse, he realized that the humans might have been smarter than he had given them credit. The blocks of iron holding him down weighed almost as much as him, and no matter how much he twisted around, his claws could not reach anything.

His tail was free, but it was useless against iron. At best, he could chase away the flies that started bothering him once they noticed that he was immobilized. For a time, Arawn occupied himself with smashing them to b.l.o.o.d.y stains, but that could only keep him entertained for a little while.

He was annoyed, hungry, and hurting. When he had nothing to do, even the minor aches played on his nerves, fouling his mood even more.

After what might as well have been forever, the d.a.m.ned wooden vehicle stopped, and the shaking stopped. Arawn waited for something to happen, but to his utter disbelief, the kid acted like he wasn't even there. He started a fire, ate, and went to sleep without saying another word.

Arawn spent the whole night hating him for that. His side ached from lying on it for too long, but he couldn't turn around. If he moved even a little, the iron cuffs dug into his flesh, making it even more impossible to fall asleep.

When morning came, he was ready to slaughter his way through the whole kingdom which could have sp.a.w.ned such a monster. How could the human child be so cruel? Did he not understand that Arawn was alive too? He needed at least some basic comfort!

"How is he?" the adult from before asked, and Arawn snapped to attention. He hadn't heard when the man had come, which spoke volumes about how out of sorts he was.

The kid came over and leaned against the wooden vehicle. "I don't think he's getting better. It's like I'm holding captive a wild animal."

"That's what all beasts are like… Maybe it just took him longer to lose it," the adult said in a soft voice. There was both pity and sadness mixed in it.

Upon hearing it, Arawn growled. He was not a pitiable creature! Even if they had captured him, he was still a caracara.

To make sure they understood it, he slashed with his tail at the man. Not having expected that, the adult fell with a startled screech. He was out of harm's way then, but Arawn had achieved his goal. The human would be wearing a large bruise for a good month for trying to pity him.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d," the adult cursed him but did not come closer, and Arawn chuckled.

It sounded like a growl, but he had a feeling these particular humans would get it, and they didn't disappoint.

"He's mocking you, you know," the child said in a neutral voice.

"I can hear myself, thank you very much," the adult muttered while brushing his clothes off. He muttered something about new clothes before returning to the topic at hand. "I'm tempted to test try a few poisons on him, just to see if they work. For future reference, of course, to better fight other beasts."

"Sounds good," the boy said with a nod. "Do you need any help?"

Arawn's ears shot straight up. Had he heard it right? Why was the kid not only not stopping that madman but also offering to help him? That went against the normal order of things!

At least the adult understood it as well. There was surprise in his voice when he asked, "You're fine with it? I thought you were friends."

"Acquaintances at best. He saved my life, so I repaid with the same, but since he's lost his mind…" The boy shrugged. "Might as well use this wild creature to gain something."

His matter of tone voice sent a chill through Arawn. He wasn't a test subject! They better not try to give him anything or he was going to slaughter them all!

Despite saying that, he knew he couldn't do anything about it. An unfamiliar feeling of dread filled him, and he began to thrash around once more. Injuries were nothing when compared to poison. A broken leg would heal and bruised skin would grow anew, but if he got poisoned, then even if he escaped a thousand miles away, he would still die.

The only thing that truly terrified his kind was poison. It was also why they didn't eat humans. Back in the day, these vile creatures had went as far as poisoning themselves before storming a caracara's territory so they wouldn't have to fight it. One dead human was much more preferable to a hundred or more facing that sentence.

Arawn did not wish to suffer the same fate as his ancestors. He had a faint recollection of their suffering, and it was the worst feeling anyone could go through.

He struggled as hard as he could, mindless of the injuries he was inflicting upon himself. Even if he tore off all his skin, it would be better than being poisoned. No matter what, he had to escape or die trying. Those were his only options.

"He's not fully gone," the boy said moments later. "He pretends not to understand us, but he does."

"You were playing him?" the adult asked in shocked horror, and Arawn slowed a little in his manic attempt to escape.

He wasn't sure what playing someone meant, but he had a feeling it was close to saying untruths, which was a very human thing.

The boy grinned for the first time and patted Arawn's back. "Not really. If he didn't understand us, I would have really helped you poison him, but now, I know there's still a chance to bring him back."

Relief and anger washed over Arawn in towering waves, drowning him. He couldn't decide what he wanted more at that moment: to tear the boy apart or curl up in a ball and thank his lucky stars that he was going to live.

"You cruel b.a.s.t.a.r.d," the adult man whispered under his breath. "I can't tell which of you is the true monster, and I saw one of you slaughter a score of soldiers single handedly."