Where Rabbits Dance And Foxes Die (Crystal Sword)

[Philomel]

[Philomel]

When the moonlight comes on the waves of clouds, one knows it is going to be a long night. There are no stars to be seen, or if any they are few, and the moon herself is half hidden behind the sky cumulus. Whisps of grey and dark blue take up the heavens, showing no mercy for those below who hunt by night. And for those wanting a good night's sleep, they know that these dark nights that are full of heavy cloud and at some time drizzle, bring out the madness in the best of us.

Woosh ...

It was not quite a silent pawstep. Instead folk tales just told so. Instead there was the softest murmur as fur and flesh touched to earth and the being sped onwards. A soft breeze fluttered by the creature, made by the creature and let leaves suddenly rustle. They only shook for a moment, then stilled, a relic of the past.

For those of a keen eye, there was other signs of the beast's journey. Though the ground was gloriously dry for now, and prints in it were few and far between, there were other points of interest. A broken twig here, a crumpled dead and fallen leaf there. A worm, halved by an accidental claw and then a bug squashed from its shell. And then high in the trees' crowns, the few tufts of fur that could be mistaken for any beasts' - many as there were in this wood.

There was quiet, but there was beauty, and there was danger but there was courage. And it was worth it.

Onwards thus the beast went, striding, as big as a sapling, as strong as an auroch, but as silent as patience, and that was all a hunter needed.

[Philomel]

The Red Forest had seen better days.

Back in the triumph before the fallen ones it had been the glorious Lindequalme, the beauty amongst beauties. One liked to imagine golden leaves among silver trunks, rising into a pure white sky. And then the dangerous sorceror Pode came and dark things occured. The silver bark became crimson, the branches, the flowers and foliage a deep scarlet. Browns and umbers and burnt siennas were common as the wood literally bled beneath her influence. Yet still, the place thrived. It rose like a vampire from his early grave and rejoiced in new life, taking on features of existence. A new type of existence.

Yet now - now the forest was caught between bloody decay and goodness attempting to sneak through. After killing the bitch Pode there had been joy but also absolute terror for the creatures of the forest. Would they survive? Would they go on? Yes they might be beasts of the darkness but was there still a life for them here.

The hunter at least, the beast of silence had an existence. He was running, far north away from the goodness and healing that was spreading. With strong jaws and a whipping tail he raced to a world that he hoped was still there. In his wake nothing stirred bar the few eating plants that stretched and yawned, the cannibal ones that gnawed on their nearest and dearest. Some paused, others moved delightfully slowly and so didn't even get a bite of the rapid moving beast - but they did manage to catch a glimpse at least of his persuerer.

His persuerer on cloven hoof.

His persuerer so proud and strong.

His persuerers that were gaining on him.

[Philomel]

Summoning up her willpower, Philomel of the Concordia forest let out a mighty bellow. In her right hand she held the hilt of her slightly curved white sword and in her left she had a fist of earth. As she raised her fist a crack began to thunder through the soil beneath her, a jagged line at first that quickly and steadily extended out before her.

The ground shook like some ungodly fever as the chasm deepened and windened. Quaking resounded as she power power thoroughly into the fissure, sending it with all that she had, all that she could endure forwards to the beast's feet. As she opened up the earth also, when it was large enough, the final thing occurred that would spell the hunted hunter's doom -

Delath the Dread came up from his rocky lair.

The racing beast had no hope. First when the crack appeared he lost his footing just, and that pushed him with more determination to continue. As he twisted his head around and bared sharp incisors back in a style of hatred, he saw the two beings following after him. A goat-legged human and a small lithe fox. The first creature was raising her hand as as she did the ground was ripping apart. He tried to push away, but the crack seemed to follow him. Turning back to the front, to where his path led him, he summoned more energy to jump, leap right up and away, potential told him, onto the horizontal trunk of a tree where his paws could find a hold with their sharp taking claws. He flew into the air extravagantly, splendidly, until -

Wham.

Muzzle met back rump, scale met fur.

He was tossed aside by a megalithic beast of yore back towards the red, red grass.

[Philomel]

The tales of the mysterious beast of the Red Forest could be read in only some rare books of Beinost library. Few were the descriptions of the great furry creature that had four massive paws and evaded capture from any hunter. It was said it had the face of an innocent angel, eyes of a doe and the backlegs so powerful it could fell a mountain. One tale told of a time when three travellers were simply walking through the edge of the wood, only to be set upon by the beast and one of them had his legs cut clean off by the pair of tombstone incisors.

It was rumoured that the creature had no canines, only vicious front teeth, which placed it amongst the rodents of another time. Some said it was a dangerous rat, simply grown vastly out of proportions until it had been too big to live in the city sewers and so had escaped to the forest, where it had simply been encouraged by the space to destroy and enlargen. Philomel, when her eyes travelled over these pages, considered nothing but a faint empathy for the animal, in the fact that she too had once felt trapped in her own world, lost and without anyone but her mad mother and a dead (now ex) pimp. But then she had left her life behind and become entangled with other people, and her connections and influence had grown, and developed and entangled with the fates of others and -

Well, here she was now, chasing a legend. A legend, which she hoped, had answers about power.

For what better creature to give her some truth about her connection with the trees than a giant beast, born of herbivore blood but developed into a monster, that had survived amongst wretched nature and become ... more. What better chance than this was there to find a further connection with her goddess and shine in the night as a beacon of victory? She had done recently what Drys had bidden and found the Lyre of Orphaeo, the strange magnifcent instrument of power that she had been sent to get before others did. And from that she had been left with more questions, more mystery as to why her? Why a simple whore, a slattern and the dirt of society - not a lady or a queen - why was she Drys' chosen?

[Philomel]

As the beast flew flew through the air, Philomel's eyes widened and she finally understood ... something at least.

The mention of the legs that could move mountains, the eyes of innocent mesmerisation, the talk of great balls of fur whispering along forest pathways like tumbleweed ... they were all suddenly explained. Indeed, it was those very tufts of fluff that had led her and her company here in the first place. They had not followed the footprints, for as the myth went true - there were none. Instead there were just the remnants of light bronze and deep blue-black fur, caught on twigs high up in the branches, although sparingly so that one might never know.

Breath caught in the faun's chest as she watched Delath the earth dragon rearing his emerald and copper head back to stare with vivid verocity at the creature he had slammed into the bark of the tree. Indeed, his nose had burst upwards from the ground and it had collided on time and on point with the rump of the animal they chased, and that had caused him to be upset from his feet ... but that was simply one hit. Now, looking at the dragon and the hunted beast, it was clear there was very little difference in size to them. As the furred monster began to rise on shaking but powerfully muscled legs from where he had slid down to the roots of a crimson tree, there was a rise in the tension.

And wonder. Wonder as to why nobody had ever mentioned the ears. Wonder as to why no word had ever escaped of the long, smoothly twitching tail. Why there was no whisper as to the size of this amazing and elsewhile simple beauty, steadying itself back onto its hind legs and forepaws?

He was a mighty monstrously sized rabbit, roaring his domain.

[Philomel]

As Dealth heaved the bulk of his body out from the crevice that he and Philomel had jointly created, he extended his neck high into the air. Showing his great maw, and the huge fangs inside, he gave all the appearance of a mighty lord ready to fight for his domain. His tail snaked out of the depths of the darkness, flicking to and fro, and swept a fine line through the dirt and dead leaves. Claws raked against the rocks and bark as he pulled himself and his long, lithe form around to face off against the other beast of immense size and beauty, sucking in air with a long, ragged breath.

Steadily, as timed perfectly with the earth dragon as two sychronised dancers born together, practised together and performing together all their existence would, the mighty rabbit-beast swung back onto his large, expertly shaped back paws. Both were sizeable, the two of the goliaths, facing off against one another as if they were foes of a long past. The rabbit leaned back onto his back paws and groped at the air between them with long-hooked claws. They were almost as vicious as the dragon's talons and teeth, sharpened against iron and rocks daily.

Roaring tore ears asunder, a mighty bellow issuing from the throat of the reptile and the deepest, darkest growl from the belly of the rodent. Two tails snapped back and forth, two pairs of ears lay flattened across backs, as golden-beige and black stood off against deep green and mottled brown as no other classic monster battle might.

It was then, during this din of challenges, that Philomel noticed the narrow horn sticking out from the rabbit's skull. It was a single point, a couple of feet in height that sprouted slightly off-centre from between the ears and pierced the sky, right at the pinacle of the cranium. Perfect in form it resembled the stem of a wine glass, although sharpened to an apex, with the colour of summer ivory. As the rabbit finished her vocal roar and settled back down to place forepaws on the ground, the faun saw this horn beginning to seemingly shimmer - and it was then she realised this battle had merely just begun.

[Philomel]

Crows high above the tree tops jeered out at the sight below. They raked the heavens with crooked claws and crooned at the sun and clouds. Twisted necks gave them a view of what was there, and some of them laughed in a rasping voice at the face off between a legendary animal of destruction and what should have been, would have been, easy prey in another life.

Except this was not another life. This was now, and this was the Red Forest. The rabbit of the wood had made this his home and he had been filled with the magic, and possibly even the darkness here, and it had given him power. Magical power, that his single horn whispered of.

Naturally, Philomel was reminded of a unicorn. She had heard of those mythic white horses with healing powers and ability to bless, but had never seen one. So it was not certain if the myths were true. For some time rumours had circled about ancient elves who had ridden them, and been granted abilities thus. There were also tall tales of small folk who had ridden ponies of similar description - but never yet had their been talk of a rabbit.

Except perhaps if one considered the antlered jackalope. Now that was another story for another time.

As the horn began to alighten, the faun matriarch let out a call. "Watch!" she cried out to her beloved dragon, his breath inhaled likely for a bout of fire to be launched, "Watch, he has-"

But it was too late. A great beam of light, cataclysmic in size and style, burst from the end of the rabbit-beast's horn. The creature sat, back onto his haunches and barely touching the ground with his front paws released a jolt of power. It was harsh and bright, and forced Philomel to cover her eyes. She heard a yelp to her left where she remembered Veridian's form standing, watching the giants bare against one another; likely he too suffered under the intensity of the light. A pained howl resounded and a noticable thump of something hitting hard against the soil.

She needed to. She looked up. Despite knowing what agony might meet her the faun removed her hand from her emphatically hidden eyes and gazed over. The beam of light was disappearing, vanishing as suddenly as it had come, fading into the dullness around them. Its master, the rabbit was leaning forwards, lowering himself into a fighting stance and preparing for - what it looked like - to make a strike. Though admittedly Philome had not seen many coneys attempt to attack another mortal. And beneath his adamant, darkened stare, was the curled, shrieking in pain, form of her Drys-blessed dragon.

[Philomel]

Seizing her sword immediately, Philomel let out a blood-curdling scream of horror and anger. Yelling high, she began to run on her steady hooves, forgetting now why they were here, ridding herself of any thoughts of possibly just placating this creature and testing it. Now - now it had done its worse. It had blasted sickness into the second of her two close allies and caused great misery for not just him, but also the faun and the fox, connected mentally in a telepathic mastercraft.

Beside her came Veridian, bursting into flame as he pounded the earth. As he did his size began to rapidly grow, first doubling, then quadrupling. His head became that close to a wretched wolf, tail extending to a good two feet of blazing inferno. Where he stepped the ground singed and blacked, hissing as the water dispersed and evaporated.

For herself Philomel desired to use white blade and not beastly assortment herself. Perhaps it was an unwise choice for this battle, as this was fast becoming a championship of strength and endurance, but it was a choice she had to make fast and the sight of her blade in hand, for some unknown reason, spoke to her in that split second. Thus, she continued on, turning steps into leaps.

Delath was trying to ease himself, uncomfortably, onto his feet. He shook slightly, the entirity of the blast having taken much more from him than ease. Besides the tenderness and torment he had also been issued with a severe draining of energy, a sapping of his power. It had mercilessly been dragged from him in a fell sweep, meaning that the colour of the light, white, had not suited this beast's element at all. Rather than that it seemed the darkness of the Red Forest had bled into his veins.

It was, then, difficult, to attempt to get onto his claws that had taken away so many critter lives. Muscles shook, aching swept throughout as he painfully gathered himself. One hit and it had felled him so roughly. One hit and it had taken away all of his ability to stand. One hit ... but it had not taken his pride.

After all, he was still a dragon.

[Philomel]

With a cry of anguish Philomel was forced to watch as she was too late.

After easing back his muscles the mighty rabbit let go of his tension and rapidly threw himself high, into the air. It was a short bound from his trunk and patch of territory over to where Delath was aiming to stagger back onto his feet. A nasty thud sounded as the two bodies collided, but one much stronger and more barable than the other. A shrieking, awful noise, like a demon of less than innocence, came out of the rabbit's mouth as he found himself victor once more.

The herbivore landed on top of the reptile, ripping at his body with wickedly ragged claws, trying to get under those supposedly indestrucible scales.

A howl and Veridian was there, leaping and then thrusting his blazing head into the fur of the rabbit. He knew that at the nape of the neck there was a weakness in most animals, a sort of point where one could catch a major nerve. He aimed to get there with his jaws, but first he needed to find the actual place beneath all of the layers of fluff. That fluff which he was ripping off and burning off with every strike of his paws.

Of course, the rabbit did not like this. He cried out and was momentarily distracted from Delath as the new concentration was on his back. Certainly, the pain was no where near as close to what Delath had felt being felled to the ground, but it was uncomfortable neverthess. It was hair being tugged out by the root, at the skin, harshly pulled. Thus, it was a fair excuse for not going for the original foe.

The dragon took this time to slither his body close to himself as he spied the rage of fire, large but still about one third the size of the rabbit, grabbing and biting at the back. With a weakened state he could hardly go far, but Philomel luckily was close by. She saw the tumult, and Veridian's attempt at victory, all thre of them joined in now in mind, body and spirit, lost to the original cause. For survival was the key now, and mastery of their lives.