The Sun was setting beyond the trees and hills of Adela, and for the most part, it was a silent evening. Peaceful, serene even, in exception for the Iannu woman chained to a tree, and the Morrahlique huntsmen having a funeral.
Bolion was correct, somewhat in his assumption for how long it would be before they caught up to Kyori, the time being one hour and seventeen minutes since they had left. The other hour and forty three minutes they spent trying to capture her, weaving in and out of trees, bushes, and tall plains grasses, was unaccounted for. After a total of three hours in pursuit, they had finally apprehended a very angry, very dangerous Iannu, and proceeded to chain her to the largest tree they could find, and ancient redwood, the centrepiece in a forest clearing. The hunt had not gone without casualties though, and three Morralique had bitten the dust, one early in pursuit, the other two when they had flanked and circled Kyori towards the three hour mark.
Bolion hadn't been so invulnerable either, scoring a gash on his chest, not deep, but long, stretching from his left collar bone to his lower right ribs. All semblance of friendliness and cooperation had faded from him, replaced by an anger he had let stew as they rode, and stoked by the death of his comrades. Comparatively, Kyori had only minor wounds, a scratch here, a bruise there, and the forming wounds around the chains, as she struggled against the tree, leaving deep claw marks in it's wood.
"You know, I tried to be nice. I know that you aren't a stupid beast, although today may have changed my perception." Bolion spoke with a biting tone, his anger spilling out in each word, "But this-" he pointed to the fresh burial mounds and the Morrahlique mourning ceremony, "this I cannot forgive. I wasn't even going to keep you! You know that, right? I'm against slavery, but I thought that I could gain from your skill set, and take you back to wherever they had taken you from, but no, you decided that acting like a child would suit you better!" He threw up his hands and walked away, seeing how ridiculous it was to chastise a stranger as if they held his morals.
Meanwhile, one of the Morrahlique huntsmen had been watching, and was feeling both a sense of anticipation and slight empathy for the Iannu. He had seen Bolion work himself into a rage before, and this is what it looked like. An angry Orc is dangerous enough, and an angry Elf is deadly, but an Elf-Orc could fly into destructive rage, making rash decisions and irreparable damage, both physically and emotionally.
Bolion turned back to the Iannu, her glaring eyes unfazed by his words. He could see that what he was doing wasn't getting through. He picked up his longsword, and in two steps, without warning, sunk his blade into her tail, narrowly avoiding bone, then sliding it back out more slowly than necessary. He scowled unconsciously as he watched her writhed against the tree.
"This is what happens." He snapped, and turned back and pointed his sword at her. His anger boiling over, he launched the blade at her, sinking half of the three foot blade into the tree, several inches from her face.
"You are lucky I still need you!" He roared, losing his self control. Walking up to the muzzled and chained Iannu, he was near shouting when he said, "You will obey, and when I am done with your worthless hide, if I deem that I no longer need you, perhaps I will set you free." Lowering his voice so that only they two could hear him, he said through clenched teeth, "And if you so much as try to escape, I will find, and I will burn your village into cinders, am I understood?"
Turning away from the object of his hatred, he called for some bandages, both for his wound, and her still bleeding stump. "We ride for the Slavemaster at dawn!" He called into the camp, now silent, as the moon rose in the night sky.
