[[P]olaroid.]

PART I.
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LOCATION - TENGEL FOREST
TARGET - MARTYN BRITTON
BOUNTY - 1200 ALIVE, 800 DEAD
TIME - 2100
NOTES - MUST GET GABRIEL TO SHUT THE HELL UP
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A loud clanging noise abruptly awoke Mikhail - in a flutter of scaled wings, he forcefully clasped a gloved talon against Gabriel's mouth, shoving the Fenref below the windowsill. One of his shockingly bright blue eyes peered sneakily from the broken glass, flicking to and fro as it registered the tall, creaking trees and thick shrubbery. "You'd better damned well hope nobody heard you," Mikhail growled, voice low and gritty. He slowly released Gabriel; the Fenref gave several relieved gasps of air, rubbing the bright red claw-shaped print on his face. "Easy, guv," Gabriel snapped back, giving his companion a rough punch on the shoulder. Mikhail didn't budge an inch, but instead gave Gabriel a look that caused him to shrink away with a grumble.

"You see anythin' out there?" Gabriel gathered the empty bottles scattered about the floor of the ramshackle hut, one of which he had tripped over earlier. Faster than one of his breed should be capable of, Mikhail settled himself back onto a thick blanket draped upon he floor and smoothed out his heavy overcoat. "Nothing strange," the Battleheart murmured, taking a knife from his belt. Gabriel gulped as he watched the massive hulk of a man remove a glove slowly and begin sharpening his curved claws. They glinted softly in the dim moonlight.

"You're making me incredibly unsettled, Gabriel," Mikhail spoke several minutes later. His electric-blue eyes shot upwards, piercing Gabriel's like a lightening bolt. "Go and make yourself useful. Bring us back some firewood and...scavenge something." Grunting, Gabriel gathered a burlap bag from near a pile of charred ashes and a long metal weapon, appearing to be an old fireplace poker. "And I s'pose you'll be hangin' 'round here, eh?" Mikhail made no response, but gave him another frosty glare. After touching the brim of a hat he swiped from the floor, Gabriel dashed from the building with a string of muttered curses.

[[P]olaroid.]

"GO and get the firewood," Gabriel hissed, tracking steadily through the dense foliage that burst from the forest floor and nearly engulfed Gabriel. He swiped through several ferns with the poker, scattering ripped leaves and stems angrily. "Go on and scavenge something. Damned Battleheart...if it weren't fer the family back home I woulda -" He paused, straining his nose towards the sky and taking several deep breaths. Faintly he smelt something edible nearby. Dropping to his hands and feet, he scrambled through the underbrush, scowling as vines and other greenery whipped across his face.

On a log, sitting rather peacefully nestled amongst the leafy vegetation, was a thick cluster of round, creamy mushrooms. Gabriel licked his lips hungrily and nearly lunged forward when he realized that something was...amiss. He paused, a deep frown on his face as he peaked to and fro. Something was definitely wrong. He padded back and forth in agony, desiring to reach out and snatch that mushroom cluster and shove them down his ravenous throat. MIkhail wouldn't care if he never knew. He gave a wistful sigh and took a reluctant step forward, when he noticed what had disturbed him.

A wire, barely a hairsbreadth in width, ran from a tree branch to the forest floor. It was translucent, and wouldn't have been detectable by a creature with normal perception. "Well, well, boys, what d'we have here?" A fiendish grin spread across his features, distorting his generally genial appearance. He touched the wire gently, almost lovingly, caressing it with the lightest of pressure. His eyes slid down the length of the wire and alighted towards a well-disguised patch of earth. It seemed quite inconspicuous, but on closer examination he saw the top of a wooden pole embedded deeply in the dirt. He crept towards the trap, careful to not step on anymore trip wires or other contraptions. He gritted his teeth and clenched a paw - immediately, the earth around the wooden pole began to shift and rumble. With soft grating noises it rolled away, exposing a wooden cage meant to swing upwards and capture any nosy creature that attempted to grab the mushrooms. It was freshly planted, and with great stealth and diligence. No regular hunter would have bothered to put it here.

"Well, well," Gabriel murmured, somewhat amused. "Either we gots ourselves a likkle rival, or...someone knows we're here already."

[[P]olaroid.]

The sudden silence awarded from Gabriel's departure made Mikhail give a loud sigh of relief. He sat up slowly, groaning as his aching back stiffened and creaked. Although one his age should not nearly be old enough to complain of such pains, a lifetime's worth of bounty hunting had made his life perpetually painful. Not to mention the fact that he had gotten stuck with Gabriel, out of all of the Fenref's family. For generations, Gabriel's family had been servants (although others argued they were more like slaves) to Mikhail's due to enormous debts they still had yet to pay off. While many of Gabriel's other siblings were demure, softspoken and diligent workers, somehow Mikhail had been stuck with the most obnoxious as a manservant.

Rubbing his knees that had throbbed the entire night, he drew his overcoat closer to his body despite the intense humidity. Something felt...odd. He grunted and made his way to the window, peering through the broken glass at the dense shrubbery outside. A bush shook slightly - within a heartbeat Mikhail withdrew several long, curved daggers from his belt, holding each one masterfully between his claws. When a small beetle emerged, antennae twitching, he relaxed slightly, although decided to impale the insect just for kicks. It gave a forlorn squeak as a sharpened piece of wood arced gracefully through the air and stabbed it silently.

Removing a flask from one of his overcoat's inner pockets, Mikhail took a long drink of a potent potion he had become adept at making - a combination of intense herbs dulled the pains in his joints and muscles. It tasted worse than rotting flesh, but after years of drinking it, he had long gotten used to the taste. He continued to calmly sharpen his knives with a flat rock from the floor, his eyes trained on the horizon, when there was a loud banging noise. He wheeled around sharply and hissed as Gabriel thundered in, streaked in mud. "What the hell are you doing? Do you want the entire forest to know that we're here?" Mikhail threw a dagger frustratedly at his slave - it embedded itself in the wall a centimeter from Gabriel's face, who rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Careful wif that thing, guv - you might poke out me eye next time," he grinned, emptying out the contents of his foraging on the floor. Out spilled several birds and voles, as well as a thick clump of mushrooms. Mikhail held one carefully, examining the creamy round cap. "Asides, I think it might be too late," Gabriel chuckled, piling several logs onto the heap of ashes and lighting them with a cigarette lighter in his pocket. "Someone already knows we're here. Left a trap in the forest." Mikhail's eyes wandered back out the window. "Is that so?" he murmured quietly, setting down the mushroom, gaze fixed. "Yep. Looked professional too, and freshly dug. Guess they thought they'd be gettin' the better of us, eh, Mickie? Harhar - "

"GET DOWN, GABRIEL! GET DOWN!" Mikhail's voice reverberated through the shack like a thunderclap - he grabbed Gabriel's paw and yanked him roughly onto the floorboards as an arrow shattered the window and accompanied Mikhail's dagger in the wall. This arrow, however, was aiming to kill.

[[P]olaroid.]

Gabriel lay stunned on the ground for only a second, slightly winded from Mikhail's not-so gentle pull onto the ground. He scrambled to his feet and crawled along the floor as several more arrows burst from the window and hit the wall with a loud thunk. He and Mikhail dragged a massive rotting wardrobe in front of the window - its moldy wood splintered but held. "Did you bring a bow and arrow?" Mikhail snarled, brandishing his daggers. Gabriel scurried about the hut, opening various chests and peering inside wide crevices. "Er, well, I thought I did," Gabriel stammered, peeking behind a corner. Mikhail released an enraged groan, running a hand down his leathery maw. "Goddamn it, Gabriel," he hissed. He looked at the wardrobe, trembling as it received another volley of arrows - one or two had already burst from the mildewy wood.

"Guess there's nothing left to do then..." Mikhail sighed. He padded over to where his blanket lay discarded on the ground. Deftly he wrapped it around one arm until it formed a thick cushion; Gabriel secured it with several tight knots and looked at his master rather skeptically. Mikhail gave him a displeased glare, turned, and stormed through the door.

Immediately a shower of arrows burst from the shrubbery. Mikhail raised his cushioned arm - the arrows sank into the fabric but were unable to pierce his thick scales. Most of the arrows were deflected in this manner - several others skimmed past, scraping against his scaled body, but one managed to embed itself deeply in his thigh and shoulder. He snarled and ripped them out savagely. He flung several daggers into the bushes where the arrows came - although several thuds told him that many daggers missed, a loud cry of pain alerted him that he had caught someone. He charged through the brush and grabbed a squirming Gyrraptor by the scruff. He had been hit in the abdomen and was bleeding rather profusedly, both hands clutching the wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. "Anyone make a move and I'll kill him!" Mikhail shouted, holding another dagger to the Gyrraptor's throat. There was silence in the rainforest. Slowly, Mikhail inched back toward the hut. Gabriel, who had just located his bow and arrows, made sure the Battleheart would not be attacked from the back. Just as the three entered the hut, a spray of arrows arched through the air, this time aimed at the Gyrraptor. Snarling, Mikhail shoved Gabriel and the Gyrraptor into the hut and shielded them with his padded arm. He gritted his teeth as he felt the arrowheads bury themselves in his flesh.

[[P]olaroid.]

"Oy, mate, you don't look too good," Gabriel wheezed, trying to catch his breath as he hauled the Gyrraptor to the room where they had slept. It was windowless, and here the wood wasn't warped and falling apart with the rains. Mikhail glared at his companion, ripping another two arrows from his lower abdomen and upper thigh. They splurted blood on the floor, gathering in a wide shallow puddle at his feet. "Bandages are in the wardrobe," Gabriel called as he tore his own bedsheets into wide strips. He forcefully bound the Gyrraptor's wound, scowling whenever the beast would attempt to kick or struggle. "Damn it, stay still!" Gabriel snarled, giving the Gyrraptor another rough blow to the head to stop him from squirming. "I ain't sayin' nothing," the Gyrraptor spat, dodging another of Gabriel's punches. "Even if ye torture me, I ain't sayin' nothing."

"His voice is getting tiresome," Mikhail shouted as he wrapped his wounds in several layers of thick bandages. There was a loud thud, a squawk, and then silence. Gabriel, paws covered thickly in blood, whistled as he entered the room again. He twisted the single faucet and washed the grit and blood off himself in the thin grimy stream it offered. "Whoo, mate, how many times did ye get shot, anyhow?" Gabriel's eyes scanned over the Battleheart's massive frame. Mikhail said nothing, but grabbed his flask and took several more deep gulps until it was empty. He gave a slight uncharacteristic belch and tossed it aside. Gabriel chuckled. "Seems like someone's hungry," he chirped, gathering the flask from the floor.

"Make me another, quickly," Mikhail grunted, tearing the arrows from the blanket wrapped around his forearm. It was now soaked in blood; it landed on the floor with a wet, squelching slap. "The herbs are there, near the clothes. AND HURRY UP!" he pointed at a small burlap bag, tied tightly with twine. Sniffing indignantly, Gabriel gave a stiff bow and muttered, "Right away, sir."

[[P]olaroid.]

Although Gabriel generally had little experience with brewing potions, he had been Mikhail's manservant long enough to have mastered the skill of making this painkiller. He hauled a pot onto the fire and filled it with water. Humming quietly to himself, he tore several oily leaves into chunks and tossed them into the water, stirring occasionally. The leaves started turning a rather ominous shade of red, while the water itself was becoming purple-tinged. Gabriel removed a thick, slimy root from the bag as well - it smelled like dried meat. Gritting his teeth, Gabriel squeezed the root until a stream of blackish fluid oozed from it and the water became somewhat viscous. He used his paws to tear the root into strips as tossed those into the brew as well. He rummaged through the contents of the bag and added a handful of dried moss, which cracked and hissed as it sank into the dark purple liquid. He stirred in several small white flowers, which released the aroma of skunk-spray as they, too, were added to the potion. He continued stirring until the purple liquid slowly turned a shade of olive-green, poured in several more tablespoons of water, and added a few precious drops of whiskey. He dragged it off the fire and let the brew cool, then poured it into Mikhail's flask.

The Fenref handed his master the flask and watched as Mikhail finished his bandages, tied them tightly and gave a deep, shuddering breath. He took the flask wordlessly, uncorked it, and drank most of the contents in a single gulp. Gabriel winced as he watched the process - drinking that horrid stuff was enough to make his blood curdle. He removed his coat and laid it upon the floor, near the fire. "Well, this was fun and all, but I'm gonna hit the hay." Gabriel yawned, curling awkwardly on his coat. "Good night, guv." Within seconds he was already asleep, snoring gently. This was one of the rare occasions in which Gabriel was actually quiet. Mikhail sighed and shrugged off his own coat, shaped it into a pillow, and laid his head upon it.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

[[P]olaroid.]

The Gyrraptor choked and spluttered as Gabriel wrenched open his beak and tipped a gold-tinted liquid down his throat. After it had all been swallowed, Gabriel gave the Gyrraptor several rough pats on the cheek and beamed at him. "There we go, love," Gabriel smirked, removing a thick coil of rope from the rotted wardrobe. "We want you to be nice and conscious today, don't we?" He whistled as wrapped the Gyrraptor's ankles and wrists in rope, deftly tying complex knots that would take much longer to undo. When he was finished, he peeled back the bandages around the Gyrraptor's chest and examined the dagger wound. "Lookin' much better," he murmured before trotting over to Mikhail's side.

Gabriel handed Mikhail a pot that contained the gold-tinted liquid. The Battleheart drank the rest gratefully, then followed it up with several swallows of the foul-tasting brew Gabriel had prepared earlier. He stood unsteadily on his feet for a second or two, then straightened up and entered the room where the Gyrraptor sat, looking rather pathetic. He cracked his knuckles casually and pulled a dagger from his belt - it had been the one they had pulled from the Gyrraptor's gut, still coated in a flaky layer of dried blood. The Gyrraptor gulped. "Now, I am going to ask you politely first, since we've been so hospitable to you these past few hours," Mikhail murmured, voice eerily quiet. "Hospitable? Ye stabbed me an' are about t' torture me!" the Gyrraptor spat. Gabriel slammed his paw on one of the Gyrraptor's bound feet - there was a faint cracking sound as the Gyrraptor screamed in pain.

"I don't think being cheeky is going to help you right now," Mikhail said, voice taking a colder edge. He slid the dagger across the Gyrraptor's beak. "I'm going to ask you to apologize once." Immediately the Gyrraptor croaked, "I's sorry, mates, truly very sorry." Gabriel squinted at him. "You think he means it, guv?" Mikhail frowned and crossed his arms. "I'm not sure, Gabriel. He hasn't done anything to prove it," the Battleheart said. The Gyrraptor squeaked, "I's sorry, I swears! I swears!"

Mikhail leaned forward, his large blue eyes glaring angrily at the Gyrraptor. "Then tell me who sent you."

[[P]olaroid.]

Gabriel washed his paws beneath the cold trickle of water from the faucet, watching it turn pinkish before it hit the floor with a loud splat. The Gyrraptor hadn't been nearly willing to spill the beans as much as he or Mikhail had wished. It even made him wince when he looked around the corner and spotted the bloody mess that used to be a proud, grinning, thrashing, moving Gyrraptor on the floor, arms and legs purple from the tight ropes that bound him. That was barely the worst part - his face had been beaten so severely over the past few hours that both eyes had sealed shut, his beak had cracked in several places and a sizable chunk had fallen off, and both cheeks were bruised and inflamed. Blood crusted on every pore and scratch of the Gyrraptor's face and dripped off the edge of each feather. Gabriel was tempted to say "Poor bloke," but Mikhail would've turned on him faster than...well, in short, he didn't want to express any sympathy for the sniveling blob of feathers and scales that writhed slowly on the floor.

Mikhail was also cleaning himself off - he used a strip of cloth to wipe the slightest hint of perspiration from his neck, rubbed blood from his claws and took another swig of the foul potion he kept in his flask. For just getting riddled with arrows, he seemed to be in fairly good shape. He took one of the birds that had been left uneaten on the floor and swallowed it whole, jaws mashing it to pieces as he swallowed it, and then wiped the residue from his lips. Gabriel looked away, moderately unsettled. Mikhail sighed, cracked his knuckles once more, and pointed to the Gyrraptor. "Wake him up," the Battleheart said darkly. Gabriel nodded and filled the pan with cold water from the faucet, throwing it savagely onto the Gyrraptor. The Gyrraptor seemed to stir, eyes attempting weakly to open, broken beak clicking softly. "C'mon, lovely," Gabriel said, patting the creature roughly on the cheek. He responded to the Fenref's voice, swiveling his face slightly to face him.

"Now, are ye gonna talk to us? Remember, if ye don't, we gonna have to do this all over again." Gabriel asked. He pointed to Mikhail, brooding rather creepily in the background, staring at the wardrobe. The Gyrraptor slowly nodded his head - one could see the pain contorting on his face. Gabriel placed a paw on the raptor's shoulder, almost gently. "Are ye gonna lead us to your boss?" Again the Gyrraptor gave a weak nod. Gabriel grabbed another pot, again filled with the golden potion, and poured it down the Gyrraptor's throat. He choked on it, struggling to swallow, eventually drinking the entire brew. After several minutes the creature's eyes became noticeably less puffy and raw, and the cracks on his beak were steadily mending. "Alright, then. When you're on your feet, yer gonna take us to your Bossman."

[[P]olaroid.]

A few more gulps of the golden potion and the Gyrraptor seemed good as new - mostly. One eye remained slightly swollen and puffy, and he hobbled when he walked, but the dagger wound had almost completely disappeared aside from a faint scar, and his beak had mostly healed. Mikhail held a makeshift leash in his hands, attached to the Gyrraptor's wrists - a single flick and he could dislocate both the reptile's shoulders. The Gyrraptor seemed aware of this fact - he picked his way gingerly amongst the roots and upturned rocks, careful not to jerk too much on the rope, wincing whenever he stumbled or tripped. Mikhail merely glared at him with vague displeasure before focusing his attentions on their surroundings. "Almost there," the Gyrraptor croaked, stumbling over a mossy log. "Almost..."

[[P]olaroid.]

There was a slight rustle in the shrubbery - Gabriel whipped his head around and grabbed the fire poker, brandishing it grandly just as several armed warriors burst from the undergrowth and dropped down from the foliage. In a second, Mikhail had given the rope a hard yank, dragging the screeching Gyrraptor towards him and pressing a dagger to his throat. "Another move, and I'll slice through his neck," Mikhail murmured, voice eerily quiet. The soldiers merely stood there, swords in hand, glaring at the massive Battleheart with disgust. Gabriel prodded one of them with the fire poker - they stumbled backwards with a snarl and almost struck with their sword, but the soldier's superior shook her head grimly. She stepped forward, the dim light glinting off her battle armor. She was a small, skinny Gyrraptor, but one could tell she wasn't to be trifled with. "We will take you to our leader," she said, her voice naturally whispery. Her eyes flickered down to the bound Gyrraptor, who was making pained croaking noises and attempting to shakily stand.

The group made their way quickly through the forest. Moist earth blurred beneath their feet as they dashed rapidly from tree to tree, humid air whipping past their faces. At last they arrived in a large clearing, cleared of trees and rocks. There were some shoddily-built huts of mud and sticks, standing lopsidedly in the dirt. Other Gyrraptors and Hollowhearts lingered in the doorways, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes, sharpening weapons or buffing their armor. When they saw Mikhail and Gabriel, they all immediately bristled; some snarled and brandished their weapons threateningly, but the female Gyrraptor silenced them with an icy glare. At last she approached a massive canvas tent supported by thick wooden beams. She, along with the rest of their troupe, knelt on one knee and lowered their heads. "We bring you some guests, sir," she announced loudly.

There was a loud rumbling sound from within the tent, and then an amused chuckle.