[ Peter is quiet for a long second, jaw clenching as he watches the guy slip on the coat.
Well, says a dark, vindictive little voice. It’s gonna be hard to get the blood out once you kill him.
He tries to shake it off, though, because he’s always preferred talking his way out of conflicts. And a small, reasonable part of him reminds him how ridiculous it would be to throw down over a coat, of all things. (Though he would throw down over smaller, seemingly more mundane trinkets, which are currently tucked away in his pack.)
Still, anger starts percolating in his gut, sour and cold, but he manages to keep it off his face. It takes him a couple of breaths before he trusts his voice to maintain an even tone. ]
This is getting ridiculous. Just take off the coat, and I’ll be on my way.
[ Yan is already starting to feel like she owes Peter a serious apology for leaving his coat behind; she'd tried to hide it in the time that she had, and she hadn't just left it in the open. But still, it's in this stranger's hands, on his back, and Yan feels a strange sense of guilt for that. ]
What's ridiculous is you still being here, arguin' with me.
[ And now, the hunter is drawing his sword. ]
You want it so badly, you come and take it.
[ And again, Yan curses her luck and her broken ankle. She'd be so much more useful if she wasn't injured, so much better in a fight—
But there's that guilt, that reminder that Peter helped her when he didn't have to. He got her out of that cage, out of the snare, and he's helping her along after sharing his food and his coat and—
Godsdamn it.
Despite her broken ankle, she can still move quietly forward, slowly. The adrenaline in her system makes it easier to ignore the pain, too, and she's able to get to the edge of the bush. With one leg curled close to her body, she coils down, readying her muscles, before she sends herself hurtling out of the bushes with enough force to reach the hunter in Peter's coat.
Before he can even react, Yan's jaws open wide, and she clamps her teeth down into his achilles tendon, effectively shredding it.
The other hunter shouts in shock, while his companion screams in agony. ]
[ Peter lets out a low sigh. Part of him knows that he ought to just leave it alone. It’s not a big deal, after all. It’s just a coat. He can just get another one.
He grits his teeth, taking a rallying breath to shore up his fraying patience. He thinks of what he can say that wouldn’t involve this conversation coming to blows, but then he sees the smallest flicker of white out of the corner of his eye. It takes a great deal of willpower not to turn toward her, to see what Yan is doing, but he has to figure she’s trying to make her escape. Which is smart. If these are some of the men coming after her, then it stands to reason that she should be very, very far away from them.
It's why he straightens a little, forces himself to slap on his biggest, most infuriating grin. ]
Didn’t realize you and your friend had such a strong death wish.
[ Which is a bluff, of course. An attempt to keep their eyes on him. Peter doesn’t actually want to kill them, but—
Apparently that choice is taken out of his hands, because instead of darting away, Yan leaps out of the brush, and Peter jerks to attention. Peter is in the middle of shouting, No, don’t— except she’s already clamped her teeth around the hunter’s ankle. He falls to the ground in pain, and Peter reacts, then, turning to the other hunter, who’s fumbling with his quiver to nock an arrow.
So Peter flings the dead rabbit at the guy’s face
The archer yelps, batting the game away. The guy recovers after a few moments and redirects his attention, but Peter has already drawn his sword, slashing at the man. The first swing severs a portion of the bow’s top limb, rendering it useless, and the hunter scrambles back, drawing his dagger. Apparently this man wasn’t built for close-quarters combat, however, and Peter quickly dispatches of him, driving his sword through the man’s gut.
He plants his boot against the man’s stomach and shoves him away, freeing his sword, and he turns toward the other hunter. ]
[ Admittedly, Yan completely expected everything to turn into a fight mere seconds before she darted out of the bushes. If she knew that Peter was considering walking away at all, she probably would have slunk off to join him.
But here they are now, with one hunter bleeding in a heap on the ground, as the other tries to jerk Yan off by the scruff of her neck. He tears through his own tendon when he pulls her off, and he drops to his knee with another howl of pain. ]
You— fucking—
[ He snarls as he lifts his sword, and Yan has enough time to think dazedly, This feels familiar.
She twists against the fist clenched tight in her fur, yipping and snarling as she turns her head to clamp down on the man's wrist. He screams as he bleeds, and the position is awkward enough that when he brings down his sword, he can only manage to use the hilt in a desperate attempt to beat her off. The metal connects above her eye, and she's suddenly forced to release his wrist. At this point, he's bleeding pretty profusely, so at least Yan has that in her favor, but as she lets go of him, he drops her to the ground; she lands on her bad leg with a yelp of pain.
Breathing raggedly, the bloodied hunter doesn't even seem to be paying attention to his downed friend as he raises his blade in his good hand. ]
No fucking wonder they want your hide, you little cunt—
[ Peter darts in, then, grabbing the collar of his own coat and yanking, throwing the hunter off-balance. The hunter falls onto his back in the dirt, and when he tries to rise again, Peter plants his boot on his chest, rests the tip of his sword against the hunter's throat. ]
You know, I don't think you're really in a position to bargain right now.
[ Peter's gaze flits to Yan – only long enough to make sure that she's still moving – then back to the man on the ground. He rocks back, removing his weight from the guy's chest and giving him room to sit up, but he keeps the tip of his sword just beneath the man's chin. ]
[ The hunter looks as confused as he is furious, but he does as Peter orders, managing to push himself up with his good hand to start yanking off the coat. He shifts, drags it away, then tosses it aside into the grass. ]
There! Now let me up, you've got the bloody thing back.
[ Peter nods, acknowledgment more than approval. He might be a little more happy if the guy didn't get his blood all over his coat's sleeve, but shit happens.
He doesn't pull his sword back, instead casting another lightning quick glance to Yan. ]
[ The hunter looks from Peter to Yan, that confusion still in place. ]
Why in the hells are you talking to—
[ Yan interrupts the hunter with an affirmative chirrup for Peter, pushing herself back up onto three paws. Her ankle is at an awkward angle now, more so than before, and blood stains her white fur over her eye, but she's moving, hopping a few feet forward to station herself behind Peter's legs.
The hunter stares in open shock at Yan, then looks up to Peter. ]
[ Another lightning-fast glance to Yan as she positions herself between his feet. He readjusts, just to be sure he doesn't accidentally trample her in case he has to move. ]
Yeah. I know.
[ And the answer is simple enough, deceptively light compared to the intense focus he keeps on the hunter. He presses the point of his sword against the hunter's throat, not yet breaking skin but getting dangerously close. ]
[ The hunter almost flinches on instinct, but fortunately for him, he manages to keep himself still. His gaze keeps flicking down to Yan, then back to Peter. ]
You think I understand that magic? We're just hired to go after her.
[ Peter lets him babble out a few more promises – splitting the bounty, getting filthy rich and rolling in gold, and it'd really be so easy, honestly, and it'll be simple if they work together—
Normally, Peter doesn't kill unless he has to. Normally, he'll take pity on someone who had threatened him and make them swear on pain of death to never cross his path again.
But he's also vindictive and petty, and he's been known to hold grudges for years and years. ]
You really shouldn't have touched my stuff.
[ And it's all Peter offers before he drives the blade through the man's neck. ]
[ The man's pleas and oaths are cut short by the sword through his throat. Yan watches impassively as he gasps and gurgles blood for only a heartbeat or two, before his eyes roll back, and his body is suddenly limp on the ground, held up only by Peter's blade.
When the man is finally still, the tension that's been holding Yan tight as a bowstring finally snaps, and she finds herself sagging against Peter's leg, out of the energy it had taken to keep herself upright. The last few days have been hell, she's had minimal food, and her injuries are worse – and she's exhausted. Her tails go limp as her ears press back against her head, panting as she tries to catch her breath.
She makes a soft, chirping sound that's ostensibly a "thank you." ]
[ Once again, he kicks the body away, and with Yan leaning against him, he waits for a few moments before slowly starting to move.
First, he wipes his sword clean on the hunter's clothing before he sheathes his sword. After that, he searches his body – finding a crumpled sheet of parchment with Yan's bounty and a handful of gold coins. He drags the corpse to conceal it in some nearby bushes. He searches the other body, too, which only yields a few more coins. Peter rolls the body over, freeing the quiver on his back, and divests it of all the arrows it contains. This body, too, gets dragged into the bushes.
He brushes his hands off before he plucks up the rabbit he had found earlier. He approaches her again, crouching down beside her. Her foot is looking far worse than earlier, and bright crimson stands out against her white fur. He frowns a little. ]
[ When Peter moves away, Yan allows herself to lie in the grass where the hunter had abandoned Peter's coat. She flops onto her side in the puddle of soft leather so her injured foot can rest without anything touching the break. Part of her is determined to try and push herself back up, maybe to do something to help Peter with the bodies or the rabbit or— literally anything that doesn't involve lying uselessly on the ground.
Ugh, she hates this.
When Peter returns, she lifts her head slightly to sniff at the air, looking over at the rabbit with tired interest. He has a good point about her foot, but that also sounds like hell right now.
She gives a chittering bark of acknowledgment, then starts pushing herself up on her good paws, keeping her fourth leg curled close to her body. It's easier to hop around on three paws than it is one human foot, so she looks uncertainly at Peter, then sits back down with her tails fanned out behind her, her foot stuck out again. A quiet whine, and she looks down at her foot, then to Peter, trying to communicate wordlessly.
[ He sets the rabbit down, wincing a little when he gets a better look at Yan's foot.
It's not the ugliest thing he's ever seen, but it's definitely painful-looking.
He shrugs off his pack, fishing through for his healing kit and the two sticks he had found earlier. He hasn't had enough gold to stock up on healing potions, unfortunately – he's still waiting on a big score before he splurges – but he's learned to make do with the mundane.
Thankfully, he seems to understand Yan's unspoken question, and he hesitates before offering a slightly uncertain nod. ]
Just to be clear? I haven't done this on someone who wasn't, uh...
[ He gestures vaguely with one of the sticks, though after a quick glance at the length of it, he snaps it in half. ]
Person-shaped.
[ He glances at her for permission before carefully taking her paw in one hand, waiting for the flinch before he moves on. He carefully places the sticks along her leg, and holding them in place with one hand, he frees a roll of bandages from his kit. He wraps the bandages around her leg, sticks and all, and when it seems sturdy enough, he ties it off. ]
[ Yan nods as she watches him with the sticks, and there's no avoiding the little flinch, her involuntary noises as he wraps her foot. He's gentle, and as much as she appreciates it, there's no denying that it still hurts; fortunately, she clamps down on the instincts telling her to jerk away.
(It's a moment more animal than rational.)
When he ties off the bandages, she nods, flexing her leg to get a feel for the splint. She holds her foot close to her body, curled protectively against herself.
She offers him a low chirping thanks, settling herself down again, turning her head to sniff at the rabbit he brought back. She doesn't try to just eat it, obviously, but she feels bad that the hunters probably trampled all over the rations she'd been saving for Peter, too. She leaves it, for now, and turns her nose to his jacket again, and she gingerly lifts the bloodied sleeve in her teeth, dropping it with a tiny whimper.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
(In any other moment, Yan might snicker.) ]
Then maybe I'll give it to my mum. [ The hunter snarls back at Peter, as he proceeds to put the jacket on. ]
Piss off.
no subject
Well, says a dark, vindictive little voice. It’s gonna be hard to get the blood out once you kill him.
He tries to shake it off, though, because he’s always preferred talking his way out of conflicts. And a small, reasonable part of him reminds him how ridiculous it would be to throw down over a coat, of all things. (Though he would throw down over smaller, seemingly more mundane trinkets, which are currently tucked away in his pack.)
Still, anger starts percolating in his gut, sour and cold, but he manages to keep it off his face. It takes him a couple of breaths before he trusts his voice to maintain an even tone. ]
This is getting ridiculous. Just take off the coat, and I’ll be on my way.
no subject
What's ridiculous is you still being here, arguin' with me.
[ And now, the hunter is drawing his sword. ]
You want it so badly, you come and take it.
[ And again, Yan curses her luck and her broken ankle. She'd be so much more useful if she wasn't injured, so much better in a fight—
But there's that guilt, that reminder that Peter helped her when he didn't have to. He got her out of that cage, out of the snare, and he's helping her along after sharing his food and his coat and—
Godsdamn it.
Despite her broken ankle, she can still move quietly forward, slowly. The adrenaline in her system makes it easier to ignore the pain, too, and she's able to get to the edge of the bush. With one leg curled close to her body, she coils down, readying her muscles, before she sends herself hurtling out of the bushes with enough force to reach the hunter in Peter's coat.
Before he can even react, Yan's jaws open wide, and she clamps her teeth down into his achilles tendon, effectively shredding it.
The other hunter shouts in shock, while his companion screams in agony. ]
no subject
He grits his teeth, taking a rallying breath to shore up his fraying patience. He thinks of what he can say that wouldn’t involve this conversation coming to blows, but then he sees the smallest flicker of white out of the corner of his eye. It takes a great deal of willpower not to turn toward her, to see what Yan is doing, but he has to figure she’s trying to make her escape. Which is smart. If these are some of the men coming after her, then it stands to reason that she should be very, very far away from them.
It's why he straightens a little, forces himself to slap on his biggest, most infuriating grin. ]
Didn’t realize you and your friend had such a strong death wish.
[ Which is a bluff, of course. An attempt to keep their eyes on him. Peter doesn’t actually want to kill them, but—
Apparently that choice is taken out of his hands, because instead of darting away, Yan leaps out of the brush, and Peter jerks to attention. Peter is in the middle of shouting, No, don’t— except she’s already clamped her teeth around the hunter’s ankle. He falls to the ground in pain, and Peter reacts, then, turning to the other hunter, who’s fumbling with his quiver to nock an arrow.
So Peter flings the dead rabbit at the guy’s face
The archer yelps, batting the game away. The guy recovers after a few moments and redirects his attention, but Peter has already drawn his sword, slashing at the man. The first swing severs a portion of the bow’s top limb, rendering it useless, and the hunter scrambles back, drawing his dagger. Apparently this man wasn’t built for close-quarters combat, however, and Peter quickly dispatches of him, driving his sword through the man’s gut.
He plants his boot against the man’s stomach and shoves him away, freeing his sword, and he turns toward the other hunter. ]
no subject
But here they are now, with one hunter bleeding in a heap on the ground, as the other tries to jerk Yan off by the scruff of her neck. He tears through his own tendon when he pulls her off, and he drops to his knee with another howl of pain. ]
You— fucking—
[ He snarls as he lifts his sword, and Yan has enough time to think dazedly, This feels familiar.
She twists against the fist clenched tight in her fur, yipping and snarling as she turns her head to clamp down on the man's wrist. He screams as he bleeds, and the position is awkward enough that when he brings down his sword, he can only manage to use the hilt in a desperate attempt to beat her off. The metal connects above her eye, and she's suddenly forced to release his wrist. At this point, he's bleeding pretty profusely, so at least Yan has that in her favor, but as she lets go of him, he drops her to the ground; she lands on her bad leg with a yelp of pain.
Breathing raggedly, the bloodied hunter doesn't even seem to be paying attention to his downed friend as he raises his blade in his good hand. ]
No fucking wonder they want your hide, you little cunt—
no subject
You really shouldn't have touched my coat.
no subject
F-fine! You can have the damn coat back! At least— let me take that thing and go.
[ His breathing is ragged, his eyes huge as he jerks his chin towards Yan as she goes about trying to push herself up. ]
no subject
[ Peter's gaze flits to Yan – only long enough to make sure that she's still moving – then back to the man on the ground. He rocks back, removing his weight from the guy's chest and giving him room to sit up, but he keeps the tip of his sword just beneath the man's chin. ]
Take off the coat.
no subject
There! Now let me up, you've got the bloody thing back.
no subject
He doesn't pull his sword back, instead casting another lightning quick glance to Yan. ]
You okay, Yan?
no subject
Why in the hells are you talking to—
[ Yan interrupts the hunter with an affirmative chirrup for Peter, pushing herself back up onto three paws. Her ankle is at an awkward angle now, more so than before, and blood stains her white fur over her eye, but she's moving, hopping a few feet forward to station herself behind Peter's legs.
The hunter stares in open shock at Yan, then looks up to Peter. ]
Do you— d'you even know what that thing is?
no subject
Yeah. I know.
[ And the answer is simple enough, deceptively light compared to the intense focus he keeps on the hunter. He presses the point of his sword against the hunter's throat, not yet breaking skin but getting dangerously close. ]
How does she get rid of the tracker?
no subject
You think I understand that magic? We're just hired to go after her.
no subject
Well, if you don't know anything, I don't see much reason to keep you around.
What do you think, Yan?
no subject
That's definitely a "yeah, fuck him up."
... in not so many words. ]
—Wait.
[ Desperation and fear ticks the hunter's voice higher. ]
Wait, you don't have to— look, let me go, and I'll share the gold with you. That thing is worth a fortune, come on—
no subject
Normally, Peter doesn't kill unless he has to. Normally, he'll take pity on someone who had threatened him and make them swear on pain of death to never cross his path again.
But he's also vindictive and petty, and he's been known to hold grudges for years and years. ]
You really shouldn't have touched my stuff.
[ And it's all Peter offers before he drives the blade through the man's neck. ]
no subject
When the man is finally still, the tension that's been holding Yan tight as a bowstring finally snaps, and she finds herself sagging against Peter's leg, out of the energy it had taken to keep herself upright. The last few days have been hell, she's had minimal food, and her injuries are worse – and she's exhausted. Her tails go limp as her ears press back against her head, panting as she tries to catch her breath.
She makes a soft, chirping sound that's ostensibly a "thank you." ]
no subject
First, he wipes his sword clean on the hunter's clothing before he sheathes his sword. After that, he searches his body – finding a crumpled sheet of parchment with Yan's bounty and a handful of gold coins. He drags the corpse to conceal it in some nearby bushes. He searches the other body, too, which only yields a few more coins. Peter rolls the body over, freeing the quiver on his back, and divests it of all the arrows it contains. This body, too, gets dragged into the bushes.
He brushes his hands off before he plucks up the rabbit he had found earlier. He approaches her again, crouching down beside her. Her foot is looking far worse than earlier, and bright crimson stands out against her white fur. He frowns a little. ]
We should get that foot splinted.
no subject
Ugh, she hates this.
When Peter returns, she lifts her head slightly to sniff at the air, looking over at the rabbit with tired interest. He has a good point about her foot, but that also sounds like hell right now.
She gives a chittering bark of acknowledgment, then starts pushing herself up on her good paws, keeping her fourth leg curled close to her body. It's easier to hop around on three paws than it is one human foot, so she looks uncertainly at Peter, then sits back down with her tails fanned out behind her, her foot stuck out again. A quiet whine, and she looks down at her foot, then to Peter, trying to communicate wordlessly.
Can you help like this? ]
no subject
It's not the ugliest thing he's ever seen, but it's definitely painful-looking.
He shrugs off his pack, fishing through for his healing kit and the two sticks he had found earlier. He hasn't had enough gold to stock up on healing potions, unfortunately – he's still waiting on a big score before he splurges – but he's learned to make do with the mundane.
Thankfully, he seems to understand Yan's unspoken question, and he hesitates before offering a slightly uncertain nod. ]
Just to be clear? I haven't done this on someone who wasn't, uh...
[ He gestures vaguely with one of the sticks, though after a quick glance at the length of it, he snaps it in half. ]
Person-shaped.
[ He glances at her for permission before carefully taking her paw in one hand, waiting for the flinch before he moves on. He carefully places the sticks along her leg, and holding them in place with one hand, he frees a roll of bandages from his kit. He wraps the bandages around her leg, sticks and all, and when it seems sturdy enough, he ties it off. ]
Not too tight, is it?
no subject
(It's a moment more animal than rational.)
When he ties off the bandages, she nods, flexing her leg to get a feel for the splint. She holds her foot close to her body, curled protectively against herself.
She offers him a low chirping thanks, settling herself down again, turning her head to sniff at the rabbit he brought back. She doesn't try to just eat it, obviously, but she feels bad that the hunters probably trampled all over the rations she'd been saving for Peter, too. She leaves it, for now, and turns her nose to his jacket again, and she gingerly lifts the bloodied sleeve in her teeth, dropping it with a tiny whimper.
That's definitely an apology. ]
no subject
It's fine.
[ This, as he's getting to his feet, picking up nearby branches for firewood.
Yan may be able to eat the rabbit raw, but Peter certainly can't. ]
Honestly, that's not the worst thing I've ever gotten on that coat. I'll figure out how to get it cleaned.
[ Because that's what matters, apparently. ]