The Hunt [Cezar/Caysha] [C]

[Costin Stark]

The sun was moving steadily across the sky, counting down the hours. He worked his paws into the dirt, conscious not to rustle the brush in which they hid. He knew the element of surprise must not be lost—it was their strength as wolves, his and Cezar’s. But his muscles were growing stiff with anticipation, twitching as the urge to leap out and sink his teeth into something grew almost overwhelming. It had taken months to find his trail again, but now they had him. And Costin would not risk him getting away. They had that creature in their sights, the creature that dared to call himself their brother. That vampire freak who had plagued their family since the day he’d been born, tainted their family name with each breath he took. Well, he would breathe no more, not after tonight. Not if Costin had his way, and damn it he always had his way. Cezar shifted beside him, casting him a wary glance that spoke of his exhaustion. Weakling, he thought with a snide curl of his lip, rolling his eyes at his younger brother. “We have him, Cezar, at last. We watch him go in, with that man who always with him. They are in there, together.” He said with a tinge of disgust at the closeness those two had. Always together, something about it struck Costin as odd but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “Now it is the time for waiting,” he said, turning to fix his eyes on the building where Sascha and his follower lurked. “But soon, soon is the time for killing.” His lips pulled back in a snarl, but the raspy laugh roiled from his lungs colored it a smile. The anticipation so heavy it was almost painful would be worth it, he could tell. The spirit of the hunt was strong in him, and not even the hot, beating rays of the sun could dim it. He was out for blood, and he would have it.

[Cezar Stark]

Hour 1. Tense. Excited, barely able to keep still, feeling as if he could crawl out of his own skin. Watching, eyes focused so intently everything else blurred but the door. His eyes kept skimming along the subtle sheen that trailed on the ground outside the Studio doors, where he'd set his trap; his own little twist on their plan. Wouldn't Costin be proud? Hour 2. Still waiting, still tense. Excitement turned to anxiety. Watching a bird flying around from window to window, gathering twigs. What for? Food? No, it was building a nest. That's kinda nice, even birds have homes. Hour 3. Ugh. Ears pricked and eyes cast at his older brother, asking with hopeful eyes if they could leave. It had been so long, too long, it was hot and itchy. Costin rolls his eyes, tells him the same thing he's been repeating for days. We find them, we wait, we kill. He seemed to relish the waiting, but Cezar just wanted it to be done with so he could get back to the Carna, curl up with a blanket and sleep. Hour 4. What was that? Someone coming out of the building! He nearly leaped out of the bushes then and there but Costin stopped him with a snap of his jaws, inches from his face. Cezar swallowed a yelp and settled himself, tail tucked between his legs. So not Sascha then, or his special friend. Back to waiting. Hour 5. Dusk. At least it's cooler. His eyes followed the path of a beetle as it crawled around his paws, chased by a bunch of ants. Cezar tilted his head as he watched, absorbed in the high speed chase happening just beneath his nose. He was so absorbed he didn't notice how quiet it had gotten, how still Costin suddenly became. In fact that stillness drew his attention, eyes trailing along Costin's taut muscles beneath black fur that mirrored his own. He saw the rapt attention with which Costin watched, and knew without looking that Sascha had come. Dusk, the hour when Sascha often went out to hunt alone, leaving his friend and the kid behind. Cezar watched Costin, waiting for a sign; eyes not leaving his, not even to catch a glimpse of Sascha. One breath, two. A third, and there it was--that light in Costin's eyes he always had the instant before he attacked, and the two brother wolves leaped from the brush in unison, moving as one. One shadow, one creature, and to the eyes of their quarry one monster. ooc| idek meng LET IT BEGIN

[Costin Stark]

There he was. Costin’s pupils dilated and his nostrils flared at just the sight of him. That disgustingly enticing scent of his prey washed over him. It was the scent of the mutated creature that dared call himself brother. It was enough to make his fur stand on end. In that moment, there was no one and nothing in the world that could take him attention from Sascha. His jaws watered with anticipation of the attack, and he rocked back and forth on his paws waiting for just the right moment to spring. Tear, gnash, kill. He chanted the thoughts in his head and felt himself falling into the frenzied ritual of the hunt; his most primal state, the one in which he was most himself. And there was his chance. Costin leapt from the shadows, Cezar leaping out with him in unison. The two were one beast, and they snarled and barreled toward Sascha with a speed and precision that had been perfected over decades. He went for the wings first, those monstrous growths that only made it visible to everyone what a freakish mistake his brother was. They were so fitting, Costin thought. They turned his stomach just to look at them. They were also Sascha’s only means of escape, and after all of their hunting and waiting, losing their prey was not acceptable. His gnashing fangs tore into the thin membrane of Sascha’s left wing, shredding a section like paper. Blood gushed into his mouth and only elevated his hunger. But he did not want it all to be over so quickly. He let Cezar continue to hold Sascha back from fleeing,, and swiftly shifted into his human form. His face was twisted into a malicious grin, with his brother’s blood now smeared across his face. “Is it not nice to see family again?” Costin teased. With one hand he grabbed his brother by his hair and pulled down hard, his other hand slamming into Sascha’s chest so that he was sent to the ground. “I have missed this, Sascha!” He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that echoed across the courtyard. Costin could see the fear in Sascha’s eyes; it was like the light of a fire, so clear and bright behind his teary gaze. It made his chest swell with excitement and a sort of pride. Costin leapt on his brother then and slammed his fist into Sascha’s face; once, twice, a third time, laughing all the while as his knuckled became slick with blood. It was all too soon that they were interrupted. Costin hadn’t even noticed the red-brown wolf until he was barking some sort of whiny order at them to stop. He shot a glance to Cezar, wondering if he knew where the other wolf had come from. From the sight of the things on its back, he assumed it flew down from somewhere. With a sigh, Costin rose from Sascha’s unconscious body. He shifted and slunk around to stand next to his brother, grinning a wolfish grin at the pathetic wolf-friend that thought he could stop them. “If you are wanting the same, all you have to do is ask nice, little pup.” He taunted. Costin flicked his tail at Cezar and waited for the bloodbath.

[Cezar Stark]

Cezar split from Costin's side, darting in a tight circle to Sascha's other side. As one they tore into his wings, Costin ripping through the skin as easily as tearing off the wings of a butterfly. Cezar watched in vivid rapture as the blood spilled and he wanted to taste it himself. But Sascha was fighting the best he could, straining to pull his wings free. Maybe he wasn't biting hard enough? He tried to adjust his grip but at that moment Sascha flapped his wings, shook him free. He was sent flying a few feet back, skidding on the courtyard floor with a yelp. Costin didn't seem to notice. Cezar got shakily to his paws, and remembered his trap. Now was the prefect time! He cast a look back to Costin, still tearing into Sascha's wing. Their brother-creature was screaming so hard it sounded like his throat would break, or something, but he wasn't fighting too hard. Just flapping his wings; Cezar let out a snort of contempt, trying to mirror Costin in his disgust. Too scared to fight. Which meant there was enough time. There had to be. He snuffed around the door, looking for the small packet he'd left. Yes! There it was. He shifted back to his human form, grasping at the matchbook with trembling fingers. It took him a few tries to light it, he was so shaky as the adrenaline pounded through every waking vessel in his body. But he let out an excited howl when the match struck and the flame was lit. With a careful, almost delicate touch he dropped the match on the smear of glistening oil he'd smeared on the floor the night before. Animal fat they'd harvested from a kill. Domino had said it made good ignition source. Add some kindling, badda-bing-badda-boom (in Domino's words), got yourself a sneaky fire. Cezar didn't know what it was with the Carna and fire but it seemed to make everything more destructive, more painful. And as Cezar watched the fire roar into life before him and block the only convenient entrance/exit to the Studio...let Sascha's friend find his way out now. Cezar shifted back and darted over to where Costin had tired of wing-chewing. Their eyes met for the briefest moment and Cezar knew he was to hold Sascha back, so he did. He paced behind the winged thing and watched. Every step he took backwards, Cezar darted in and nipped at Sascha's legs, his ankles, whatever flesh he could reach until his jeans were covered in tears smeared with blood and spittle. Cezar watched as Costin grabbed Sascha's hair, hit him in the chest and flung him to the ground. Costin's laugh was infectious and Cezar chimed in with one of his own, a cackle that seared with excitement. He watched as Costin's fist slammed into their brother-thing's face and with each hit Cezar lunged in, barking in an almost high-pitched keen of a pup who isn't allowed to play with its favorite toy. He wanted to taste the blood, like he did when they had hunted in the forests back home. The spirit of the hunt, the kill, it had always made him feel alive, special. He was part of something. He heard a faint buzzing sound from above, tilting his head to the side as he listened. A plane? They didn't have those here. A bug? By the sound of it, a bigbug. He searched the skies through a haze of smoke and darkness before he saw what, rather who, the noise belonged to. He let out a growl of warning to Costin but it went unheard, too absorbed was he with the task at hand. But then Sascha's friend spoke, barking an order at them to stop. Sascha was laying on his back, unconscious of the blood spewing from the cracks on his face. Sascha's wolf-friend got closer. "Little pup," Cezar repeated with a snide laugh-snarl. The red wolf looked angry, and started forward again. Cezar let out a growl hackles raised, eyes darting to Costin for orders. A flick of his brother's tail and they were circling him, this bat-loving wolf. His blood thrummed in his ears and he could hear the chant of the Hunt loud and thrilling. Tear. Gnash. Kill. They stalked him, prowling around him in a circle that got smaller and smaller until Cezar couldn't hold back any longer. He wanted to feel the tearing of flesh between his teeth, the welling of blood as it oozed onto his tongue and the fear-scent of their prey filled his nostrils. He felt his teeth connect with fur, aiming for the throat. He bit down hard and shook his head from side to side. Blood welled and the red wolf yelped, loud and sharp into the night sky. His fear-scent was strong and almost heady but Cezar's enjoyment was cut short as teeth sank into his foreleg. Cezar's grip slackened as the other wolf's tightened, twisted though he was to make the bite. Cezar let go and tried to shake the wolf off but his grip was relentless. Cezar snarled, pawing at the wolf's head with his free paw but nothing could shake him. Cezar looked to Costin, pleading for help before he snaked his head forward and latched onto Casey's ear with a savage bite, shaking hard.

[Costin Stark]

The flames crackled and roared as they circled the red wolf, a nice touch, Costin had to admit. Cezar never really contributed much— and Costin liked it that way – but he did find the flames exciting, heightening the rush he got from stalking and tearing into his prey. He licked his maw, fur still saturated with Sascha’s blood; he was eager to have it mix with the blood of his strangely dedicated wolf-friend. Friendship was something Costin didn’t really understand; either people followed your orders or they were useless. Cezar was a bit of both. Costin scoffed as his brother pulled back so easily and pawed desperately at the red wolf’s head. He let out a snarl and refused to help; only when Cezar tore into the other wolf’s ear did Costin deem him a worthy packmate again. The red wolf howled in pain as blood gushed from his ear, and Costin sprung onto his side, knocking him to the ground. Teeth tore into the wolf’s scruff, digging desperately through the thick fur to latch onto flesh. The red wolf snarled and writhed beneath him until Costin abandoned the plan to snap his spine with his jaws and backed away to choose a better target. In that quick moment that Costin was off of him, the red wolf shifted into his human form. It was indeed Sacsha’s clingy friend, who never seemed to have any business of his own to attend to. What a hassle he was becoming. Costin let out a slick, snarling laugh as the man brought forth a hunting knife. What a fool this wolf-friend was to fight in his inferior form! He and Cezar moved as one and circled him again. This time, it was much easier to see the growing fear in his eyes. But he was still so determined, and stood his ground, even as Costin leapt up and seized his arm in his jaws. He dug in, and the weight of him falling dragged the wolf-friend to the ground, the knife clattering out of his hand. He screamed and Costin felt a ripple of excitement roll down his spine. He shook his head viciously, savoring the feeling of flesh tearing like butter between his fangs and the blood rushing to fill his mouth and soak his fur. This pathetic excuse for a wolf would regret his choice of friends before the night was through.

[Cezar Stark]

Cezar locked eyes with Costin as he tore into the red wolf's ear, wondering why he wasn't helping. The wolf's cry of pain as his teeth ripped through the thin skin was answered (at last) by Costin's own savage roar as he rushed forward and sank his fangs into the red wolf's back. Cezar ripped his leg free of its jaws and staggered away, towards where Sascha still lay unconscious, trying his leg to see if he could put weight on it. It throbbed angrily when he tried, letting out a low whine watched as the red wolf shifted into a man, wondering why Costin had let go of him. But he took his cue from his brother and limped forward as Costin did, circling the wolf-friend once again; Cezar was proud that he was able to limp fairly well even with such a gruesome injury. He let out another sharp series of yips as Costin lunged suddenly, tearing into the man's arm and wrestling him to the ground. Cezar let out a few high pitched yips before he himself shifted into a man. His limp was heavier in this form but he didn't care, the pounding of blood in his ears and the scent and taste of it fresh in his mouth silenced the twinges of pain and the gushing of his own blood. With a sound akin to a snarl Cezar kicked at the man's body, slamming his boot into his side a few times. The thud of his steel-toed boots against ribs only increased the roar in his ears, the red-hot warmth of pleasure streaking through him like a bolt of lightning. The elation surprised him and he stopped, confused at this sudden new rush of emotions. But he heard Costin's slick laugh around the man's arm in his mouth and decided it was a good thing. He laughed, aimed another kick to the ribs but the red-haired man grabbed onto his leg, blocking the blow. Cezar glared down at him and his weak attempt to fight back. Cezar snorted, flicked a quick glance to his brother, and with a decisive movement shifted his weight to his bad leg and slammed his other foot into the man's head. His head snapped to the side and Cezar grinned when he realized he'd knocked the guy out with one hit. "Costin!" he shouted, clapping his hands together. "Costin I got him!" he said, nudging the man's body with the toe of his boot. "You think he's dead?" A whoosh of air behind him was all the warning he got before he was sent hurtling towards the ground, a hoarse scream ripping from his throat as he hit the ground under an enormous weight. His forehead thunked hard into the cement and he blacked out. --- Cezar peeled his eyes open slowly, the flickering light of flames hurting his eyes. He tried to move his hands but froze when the world came into clarity and he saw Sascha standing with his back turned just a few feet away from him--Cezar marveled at the fact that Sascha had tackled him. He was fighting back? He never fought back. But now Sascha was shouting something at Costin. Cezar snapped his eyes shut, going completely still, hoping that they hadn't noticed he'd woken up. "Don't touch him! I swear to God I will kill you myself if you hurt him!" Sascha was yelling in Romanian, his footsteps seeming loud on the courtyard floor as he rushed forward. Cezar had never heard their bat-brother sound so angry, or so terrifying. Cezar cracked one eye open just in time to see Costin leaping over the wolf-friend's body to meet Sascha head on. But Sascha was prepared, stopping short at just the right moment and twisting quickly to the side, one of his massive wings snapping up to slam into Costin's body. His brother was sent flying, slamming to the ground with a loud thud and Cezar could swear he heard the whoosh of air as Costin's breath was knocked from his lungs. Cezar didn't dare move, struck with the sudden thought that Sascha could win this. Sascha was on Costin in the second it took Cezar to draw a breath, grabbing him by the scruff, lifting his brother-wolf as if he weighed no more than a puppy. Cezar lifted his head to get a better look-see, gaping when he saw Sascha wrap his other arm around Costin and snapped out his leathery wings. "Costin..." he whispered, watching as Sascha lifted into the air, massive wings pumping as he gained altitude, over the wall of flame, over the first floor, then the second. Costin struggling viciously in his arms, Cezar watched as they only climbed higher and higher into the smoke-filled sky. He could hear Sascha saying something, his hoarse voice carrying on the wind. It sounded shaky, but Cezar thought that it was the kind of shaky you got when anger was pouring out of you. "I won't let you take Casey away from me. I won't let you hurt him, not ever again." A pause, an angry snarl from Costin as he struggled desperately. "Misha tried. And now he's dead." Cezar's eyes widened. Misha? Dead? That meant... Cezar's eyes darted to where the wolf-friend, Casey was his name, was stirring. They had killed Misha. Cezar shifted, and struggling to his paws sought shelter in the bushes they had been hiding in, thinking that perhaps Casey was not as weak as they had thought. Blue eyes trailed back up to the skies where Sascha and Costin still struggled, the words they spoke barely audible. But it looked like Sascha was losing altitude as Costin struggled harder, and his words came through clear, sharp and cutting. "Either you swear to leave us in peace and never show your faces again or I drop you, and listen as every one of your bones shatters into a hundred pieces." Cezar gulped, a low whine squeezing from his throat. "The choice is yours, brother." ooc| sascha speaking in Romanian

[Costin Stark]

Costin let out a howl of laughter as the wolf-friend screamed and writhed under his brother’s savage kicks, and then finally fell silent. For the briefest moment, Costin’s chest swelled with pride in his brother for taking initiative; it was quickly deflated as Cezar was mowed over by Sascha. An angry Sascha. Costin snarled, enraged that their pathetic excuse for a brother would dare to fight back. He’d never fought them before. He’d taken his punishment as they’d handed it out, and that was the way Costin wanted it. Costin wasn’t opposed to fighting, but he doubted Sascha could put up a worthy enough struggle. Even now he was whining about his friend, threatening to kill Costin if he hurt him. Hah! “I would worry more about yourself if I were you!” Costin snarled, taking a running leap at Sascha. Costin suddenly found himself on the ground, all the breath knocked from him and his chest weak. He tried to sort out what had just happened; had Sascha hit him? He was still dazed when he was lifted off of the ground. A rush of air and deafening whoosh of Sascha’s wings told him that they’d left the ground. Costin let out a maddened yowl, trying desperately to catch Sascha’s face in his snapping jaws. His heart suddenly pounded out of control in his chest with a feeling he’d never felt in Sascha’s presence. His fear only angered him further, and the wolf thrashed about in Sascha’s grasp. “You... you are lying!” Costin roared. “Misha would never have fallen to a weakling like you!” He sneered, though a strange feeling told him that Sascha was telling him the truth. His growing fear only made him more desperate to get as far away from Sascha and his friend as possible. In a moment of panic, Costin shifted back into his human form, hoping that he would bring them both back to the ground. Sascha’s grip on him broke under his weight and Costin began to fall. He swung his arm out and grabbed onto Sascha’s, grinning maliciously. But the bat-man spread his wings out wide in an effort to keep them in the air, and the sudden jolt of the air catching under his wings dislodged Costin from his arm. Costin let out a terrified scream as he plummeted toward the ground with nothing to catch him. He hit the ground with a sickening crunch and everything went black.

[Cezar Stark]

Cezar let out a sharp yelp when he saw Costin hit the ground, the sound of splintering bone reaching his ears even from across the courtyard. Ohhhhhhh god. Oh god oh god oh god Costin's dead please oh god oh god oh god he's really dead oh god what do I do now they're going to kill me next holy moses maybe if I just sit here in the bushes they won't see me-- "Get him out of here, Cezar. Now." Cezar froze as Sascha's voice rang loud and clear across the courtyard, and his eyes darted to where his bat-brother stood by Casey, where he still lay but was beginning to stir. Cezar gave it about thirty seconds before he peeked his snout from the bush, followed ever so slowly by his eyes, ears and eventually his whole body slunk from the underbrush. He limped as quickly and as quietly as he could to Costin's side, eyes glued to Sascha, who seemed to be concentrating on getting Casey to sit up. Cezar pulled up to Costin's side at last, pressing his cold blood-soaked nose to Costin's cheek. It still felt warm, and he could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Cezar whined and gave Costin's cheek a quick lick before shifting back into his human form and after a momentary struggle of how to go about moving his heavy brother, slid his arms under Costin's armpits and lifted him up. Costin groaned, head lolling to the side. Cezar grimaced as he looked down at Costin's leg where he was sure he could see a sharp bone jutting underneath his pant leg. He cast one last look to see Sascha staring at them as he kneeled next to Casey, his expression unreadable in the darkness. Cezar wanted to say something, to let Sascha know that they wouldn't be back. But he decided against it, thinking that if Costin made it through the night, he would surely seek revenge. So Cezar pulled Costin into a copse of trees hedging the Studio, desperately hoping to get his brother to safety before it was too late. ooc| sascha speaking in Romanian

[Cezar Stark]

END THREAD.