[Part One]
4E 132, Valenwood
J’hasi panted, trying to keep his footfalls muffled in the leaf litter, but every movement he made sounded like thunder in his ears. Maybe it was his heartbeat making all that noise, but every snap of a twig sounded like lightning cracking, echoing in the forest, each breath a gust of wind, letting the hunter pursuing him know exactly where he was.
He couldn’t tell where they were, how close, his own breath and footfalls were making it harder for him to listen for the other set of footsteps in the underbrush, the hiss of another arrow, hell, even the panting of the mer as they kept pace with him, holding back until…
How in Oblivion did they know what he was? He’d gotten so good at concealing his condition, hadn’t slipped up in months… The Khajiit gasped for breath, stumbling on a log and nearly losing the grip on his dagger, a push of his spare fingers on the ground and he was back on his feet proper, his (most likely) broken arm pressed against his chest, running away from the scent of the hunter, leather and oil, his own blood… His wounds were making him easier to track, scarlet splattering and marking his trail behind him over the branches and rocks-
J’hasi yelped as he tripped, tumbling head over tail into the undergrowth and decaying leaves, panting and gasping for air with the heat of blood leaking into his fur and soaking his tunic, down to his leg… He sucked in a quick breath to lick at his lips, heart fluttering and throat dry with panic as he scrambled back up to his feet, gritting his teeth at the pain of his wounds aggravated by the fall, trying not to make any more noise than he already was. He felt like he was being run down like a deer-
The Khajiit stopped dead.
Why was he running? He would only tire himself and slowly bleed out. It was just like his own hunts, it was easier to take down a deer when it panicked, moving in for the kill after they’d exhausted themselves-
‘Calm down.’
J’hasi took in a few deep breaths, wincing at the pull of his flesh against the shafts buried into muscle, sharp zings of pain through his arm. His hands were still shaking with adrenaline, and he needed them steady.
‘Breathe…think… You’re faster, stronger, and more dangerous than they are… Just…don’t panic…’
The Khajiit let a breath slip between his teeth, carrying his fluttery panic out of his chest and stomach like he’d been taught, eyes focused as he pushed himself up onto his feet despite the shakiness of his legs. His ears were alert, eyes watching as his heart roared in his head… J’hasi swallowed down the metallic taste in his mouth before leaving the mess of disturbed vegetation from his fall behind, his hands trembling, but less from adrenaline and more from pain.
He wasn’t sure how the hunter knew that he was a werewolf, or why they weren’t trying to use silver on him, but the initial chase was probably just to weaken him before trying when he was slowed down, more likely to be hit and less likely to hit back properly. …or if he made himself bigger.
J’hasi frowned, brows furrowing while he caught his breath, listening for any sounds in the forest. He heard the soft rustling behind him, at least a bowshot away. It was when he heard the slight creak of the string that he bolted again despite the screaming pain in his adrenaline-weakened legs, his wounds, hearing the sharp curse before he darted into the undergrowth.
vvardenfellcat 