Cyclone felt the wind and heard the leaves.

He walked the ground and smelled nature.

And with each step, he got closer to his hunt.

His eyes were closed and arms rested on his sides, gone was the tan he acquired during his desert trek to this new land, and now his lighter complexion returned.

His Cropped gray hair was disturbed by the wind and his side tail hit the back of his head, and a annoying stubble of beard was formed during his journey.

He tried to dispell that annoyance, his mind knew that if he had got himself vulnerable his hunt would have become the hunter.

But he couldn't shake that felling off, he had gotten sloppy, let a bunch of natives interrupt his chase.

'Strange creatures' he thought, he shook his head again he couldn't afford to be distracted.

His hunt was close.

The sound of wood opened his eyes.

Deep blue orbs rapidly took in the small clearing, a nest of birds,some insects, and a footprint.

He took a breath and smelled his prey, the taste of copper on hit his tongue.

And them his senses screamed danger.

The clanking was the first thing he heard, and then the whistle of an arrow.

He dodged, the projectile cutting half of his side tail.

And then the sound of metal on wood.

'His arrow not returning'

"You ran out" he shouted to the clearing and silence answered him.

Then he felt agony, his perception slowed as he analyzed the pain.

First, it was coming from his leg.

Two, it was a spreading and burning.

Three, his leg felt numb.

It was poison.

Time returned to normal, and he pulled the dagger from his leg.

Seeing the shadow, he threw it back where it came from, the wind gathered in his hand and it pushed the blade forward with all the strength he could muster.

The tree cracked open and shuddered before falling into the ground.

.
.
.
.

And again silence.

He closed his eyes again, the rapid beating of a heart was all he could hear.

He hated it, the kid was a novice in the clan life.

He did not deserve to hunted.

'But it is your job' his mind whispered.

Cyclone breathed again.

It was either him or the kid.

"Just like our ancestors did" he whispered bitterly.

He heard the crack again.

And a piece of metal flew toward him.

It hit his eye.

Cyclone ignored the pain and the burning.

He spat a glob of poison and focused on the clearing again.

'Why are you not hunting him?' his mind
whispered again.

He sighed.

"Because i am tired of this" he spoke without whispering.

And then the sound of crunched leaves came behind him.

This time he did not hesitate.

Extending his blade, Cyclone thrusted the double headed spear behind him.

A low wheeze reached his ear

"I'm tired of this" he growled.

Cyclone looked at his hunt.

A kid, just barely out of the training grove.

Clan Neiki, he noted, born from salt and sand.

The five black balls painted on his forehead told him that he was barely five years into this life.

'Five years is enough to be hunted' his poisonous mind whispered again.

The neikian glared at him, good, he should be defiant till the end.

He retracted his spear and torrent of blood spilled from the wound, the heating process did not take place.

The poison did not let it.

The kid still glared at him, blood traveling from his mouth and painting his pale complexion.

He put his hand on the novice's shaven head and pulled his head closer to his.

"Let it go" he told him.

Blue orbs stared at the grey ones

"You have my word that you will be returned safely"

The kid eyes softened and he closed his eyes.

Cyclone held his limp body and gently put his body on the ground.

The woods mourned the passing of a guardian.

Cyclone retrieved the crystal and put it on the kid's heart.

And then he chanted.

"You ancestors are proud and your death was true"

The crystal was laid on his heart.

"You fought valiantly and made your clan proud"

The crystal glowed.

"And let this not be your final death"

The novice's body began to merge into the earth and a white wisp came from his mouth and entered the glowing crystal.

And then it stopped glowing

He picked up the crystal and felt the salt and sand.

Cyclone stood up and exited the woods.

His felt the comfort of his ancestors sooth his mind.

And for the first time in one year, Cyclone let his body relax.

The clearing was silent and only one guardian stood there.

The wind began to travel east and Cyclone followed it's direction.

'Another hunt' he thought

'Another guardian fallen'

'Another soul he took to the ancestors'

He stood at the edge of the peak.

The wind traveling in the direction of his home.

The place where he would finish his task.

And Cyclone let his body fall and let the wind take him home.

Author's Note

Ey, I'm back.