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The Hunter and the Hunted

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Over the course of her travels to see the world, the adolescent yeti named Alpa saw and experienced many wonders.  But nothing captured her interest as much as the Nepalese Himalayas.  Those high-altitude peaks and snowbound passes had traditionally been viewed as the homelands of her people, and it was her greatest hope that somewhere in that remote expanse, they might be there still.

It had taken a great deal of time, tremendous determination, and far more luck than she had ever thought to possess, but Alpa managed to arrive at the southern border of Nepal, and from there work her way north.  Her anticipation increased with every step culminating when she finally sighted the jagged incisors of the Himalayas.  Perhaps, finally, she had come home.

Alpa spent several weeks exploring the region, visiting numerous villages and monasteries before arriving in the village of Pangboche.  There she was warmly greeted by the resident Sherpas, who regarded the yeti as a sort of legend come to life.  Hearing of her desire to explore deep into the mountains, many of the resident climbing guides and mountaineers volunteered to train her for the ordeal.  Between the technical education and the physical training, Alpa spent nearly ten months in the village.  By the time her peers finally deemed her ready to join them in their climbs, the yeti was all but frantic with excitement.

Ever eager to assist, Alpa offered her services to the numerous climbing companies as they prepared for the upcoming season.  Thanks to her racial hardiness against the cold and an unprecedented acclimatization to the high altitudes, she was capable of working harder and longer than even the most seasoned of mountaineers.  Unsurprisingly, her skills were in constant demand.  As the spring season drew near, she was constantly helping to ferry supplies between camps, maintain guide ropes and prepare the numerous routes.

When the first climbers arrived in April, Alpa’s presence triggered a veritable uproar.  Viewing the yeti as everything from novelty to spokeswoman to good luck charm, expeditions and companies alike clamored for her to accompany and support their treks, inviting her to summit every peak from Kangchenjunga to Lhotse to Everest itself.  Flattered by the attention, and seeing no harm in the matter, Alpa found herself reaching celebrity status almost overnight.

Unfortunately, this fame also attracted the attention of those with much more sinister intentions towards the young yeti.

Alpa was assisting with a rope line further up the mountain when her companions at Camp One received an ominous message.  Another large group had just arrived, entirely unannounced and seemingly intent on pushing further without pause for rest.  Incredible and troubling as it was to believe, they were even reported to be carrying weapons on their ascent.  By nine o’clock the newcomers had reached Camp One.  After a brazen show of force and several rounds discharged into the air, they had forcibly sent the occupants fleeing back down the mountain.

This development went by unnoticed by Alpa, who at the moment was six miles and two-thousand feet above.  The yeti stood along the sloping floor of a canyon dug out from a large glacier, her face tilted upwards as she enjoyed the pleasant sunlight that was amplified by the rocky walls.  Relishing the heat, Alpa settled herself back against the snowy slope and watched the light, trailing cirrus clouds trickling over from the south.  Further behind, almost hidden by the overhanging pinnacles of the neighboring peaks, a thin blanket of clouds was steadily amassing. 

As insubstantial as they looked, Alpa knew that their arrival heralded a storm.  They were likely to face high winds and heavy snow in the night to come.  She had better get back to the camp and warn the rest of her group.  Moving easily down the slope, Alpa began the long hike back to camp.  She tramped down the smooth incline at a brisk walk, one hand lightly clenching the sturdy rope that she had strung along as a guide two days past.

She arrived at Camp One with the noonday sun, one arm raised over her head in a wave as she spotted the numerous figures milling about in their bright winter clothing.

“Hello, everyone!  I’m back,” she called out.  “It looks as if a storm is coming from the south.  I think we should head back before it gets… too… dangerous…”

Her voice trailed off as the first climbers turned towards her, unfamiliar faces meeting her gaze.  After a few quick and startled glances reassured her that none of her friends or clients were present, she noticed sunlight glinting off metal.  Firearms.  Her stomach fell when she noticed they were all armed, and several of the weapons were aimed directly at her.

“Wha… what’s going on,” she stammered.

One member of the group stepped forwards, an arrogant smile plastered over his face.  “Just the person we’ve been looking for.  You know when he sent us off to this god-forsaken hellhole, I didn’t think for a minute that the rumors were true.”

One of the men suddenly lunged forward, his arm reaching out to grab her.  But the hasty ascent had left him ill-prepared for such quick movement at this altitude, and she was easily able to dodge away from his cold-stiffened hands.

Not wasting a moment, Alpa dashed away from the camp and over towards a wide ridge to the east, hoping to lose her pursuers amongst the towering seracs further downslope.  A loud bang split the air, and Alpa’s body tensed as she anticipated a second bullet plowing into her back.

“Dammit, I said hold your fire!  She’s no good to us dead!  Get after her!”  Back in the camp, several members of the team joined the leader’s pursuit.  Their exhausted bodies and ponderous gear proved quite a hindrance, but would it be enough?

 

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It was a large and isolated glacial valley, nestled deep between the massive ramparts of two summits.  Though well below the notorious altitude termed “The Death Zone,” it was still a hazardous and desolate place.  Constantly buffeted by strong and icy winds that rolled down from the peaks, and plagued with low oxygen levels and subzero temperatures, it was a field of motionless snow and rock with no sign of life for miles.

None that is, but a small black speck moving steadily up one of the western slopes.

The jackal’s ebony fur stood out in stark contrast to the fields of snow and ice around her, her minimal clothing almost laughably useless for protection against the elements.  Yet she strode along at a casual pace, seemingly unbothered by jagged rime beneath her bare feet or the icy shards flung about by the winds.

Bracing her feet against the windswept slope, Sirocco turned and looked out over the wide plateau below her.  The steep incline of ice and frozen rock fell nearly 4000 feet to the valley floor, with sheer rock faces and knife-edge ravines boxing her in on either side.

She breathed in long and deep, feeling the frigid air and crystals of ice filling her lungs.  This was a truly gorgeous land.  They had nothing so grand or vast in Kemet, with its shining seas of ice and towering pinnacles of stone, their splendor almost beyond the grasp of men or gods.

Her reverie was broken as a loud crack echoed from somewhere over the next ridge, a startling sound that seemed utterly out of place amongst the silent and peaceful crags.  Narrowing her eyes, Sirocco turned westward and tramped her way up and over.  Upon cresting the ridge, Sirocco was bewildered to see movement far down on the slopes below.  In her many days of travel, the goddess had seen no other signs of life amongst the snowy peaks.  But there they were, at least a dozen in number and  spread out in a ragged line as they floundered in the snow.

Several yards in front, a smaller figure seemed to be leading the group.  It moved with quick and measured strides as opposed to the sluggish stomping of the others.  Sirocco squinted as she peered down at the figure.  Unlike the brightly clothed others, this one seemed to be sporting a thick layer of fur about the body, and next to nothing in the way of garments.  Still more curious, it seemed to constantly look back to the others, only to increase its pace rather than slow.  To Sirocco, it almost seemed as if this individual was being pursued.

A biting wind swept down from the upper peaks, swirling Sirocco’s hair around her face and sending plumes of ice hurtling into the valley below.  Whether it was due to the slippery ice, or the momentary lapse of concentration as they turned back, or simply the gust setting them off-balance, the figure at the front of the group lost their footing and went hurtling rapidly down the icy face towards the icefall below.

Acting on reflex, Sirocco hurled herself down the ridge, locking her knees and sliding hard and fast down the icy slope.  Though several hundred feet above the imperiled figure, her speed was far greater, increased by the leaping bound that sent her soaring through open and bottomless sky to slam against the opposing slope.

Beginning her own downward slide, Sirocco drove her fist down into the ice, shattering it and throwing out frozen shards as she sought to arrest her momentum.  The face ended in a thin notch just a few hundred feet below them, beyond which awaited only empty space and a fatal plunge.  Extending her arm towards the other figure, Sirocco loosed a long and spiraling bandage from her wrist that looped tightly around their waist just seconds after they slid out over the edge of the notch.  Jamming her hand firmly into the ice, Sirocco coasted to a stop.

A few moments to catch her breath, and the jackal began pulling the bandage up from the abyss hand over hand, until finally a petite, furry form returned to view.  Grasping it by the ankle, Sirocco hoisted up her catch to examine. 

It was a creature unlike any the goddess had ever seen, covered in a thick coat of soft fur, though certain feminine curves remained visible even through the matted fluff.  Wide, grey eyes stared back at her with disbelief as the creature’s mouth hung open wide.

“Uh… huh… wha…”

“How eloquent,” Sirocco replied mockingly.  “A poor attempt at gratitude, if such a thing was even your intent.”

The creature’s mouth closed with a snap, and the slightest hint of red colored her cheeks.  “Um… thank you?  Whoever you are?”

Sirocco shook her head.  Whoever she was?  Really, was this what passed for etiquette amongst mortals these days? 

Alpa, however, was utterly unaware of her verbal sleights.  Instead, ridiculously enough, she seemed entirely preoccupied by the minor fact that she was hanging upside down over a several thousand foot drop.  “If… if it’s not too much trouble, could you put me down? On the ground, that is!” 

At this Sirocco couldn’t help but laugh in amusement.  And now demands were being made of her?  Was there no end to this mortal’s impudence?

“I think not,” she purred, leaning in closer to Alpa’s face.  “It would be most unwise to release you after your… earlier clumsiness.  I’ve no desire to chase you back down this mountain should you fall once more.”

Without giving the yeti a chance to protest further, Sirocco began carrying her back up the slope, smashing her feet and fist into the ice to make a series of handholds.  It was a slow, deliberate trek, made more unpleasant by the steadily increasing winds and the fact that all of the blood was rushing to Alpa’s head.  But after several minutes of climbing, the two finally returned to the flat shelf leading to the camp…

…And were immediately greeted by nearly fifteen gun barrels leveled towards them.

One of the heavily-clothed men stepped forwards.  A leader, Sirocco guessed, if his swaggering grin and haughty attitude were anything to go by.  The creature in her grasp whimpered in fear, and Sirocco found herself angling her stance to put herself between Alpa and the man.

“Afternoon, miss,” he said in a booming voice.  “Looks as if I ought to be thanking you!  You did a fine job of chasing down this little yeti.  Dunno what we would’ve done if she’d gone over that cliff.”

A yeti, was it?  Ignoring the rest of the man’s words, Sirocco lifted Alpa up higher to peer curiously at her face.  Those grey eyes were wide and pleading, the message all too clear.  Whoever these men were, she certainly did not wish to go with them.

“Now then, how about you hand her over, and we’ll just be on our way?”

Chuckling to herself, Sirocco stepped forward, towering over the man by nearly a full foot.  “And why, little man, would I want to do that?”

That certainly quieted him down.  The man looked back and forth to the others of the group, seemingly at a loss for words at being refused.  Releasing Alpa’s foot, Sirocco caught the surprised and shrieking yeti around the stomach, lowering her gently to the ground.   Arm wrapped protectively around her, she waited to see how these mortals would react.

The leader turned back to her, his jovial smile replaced by a thin scowl.  “Listen, lady!  Whatever you’re playing at, we don’t have time for it!  Either hand over the yeti, or we’re taking her!”

“Try, and I shall hurl you all screaming down that same cliff from which I rescued this one.  And you,” she sneered into the leader’s face.  “Will go first.”

Flinching back, the man lifted the strange metal object in his hands and pointed it between her eyes.  “Last chance, bitch,” he snarled, though a tremor of fear slipped beneath the words.

Sirocco regarded the weapon with bemusement.  Was this mortal… threatening her?  She found the idea positively charming.  On a whim, she decided that it would be quite gracious of her to let these mortals enjoy a momentary triumph before smiting them all and leaving their remains here to be buried in the ice.  Removing her hand from the yeti’s waist, Sirocco pushed her forward lightly, adding a quick slap to the rear that had Alpa yelping and stumbling forward.

Immediately two of the men seized Alpa by the arms and shoved her down onto her knees.  Working quickly, they bound Alpa’s wrists behind her back with stout nylon cords, adding another length at her elbows to keep her tightly secured.  One man then shoved her down onto her stomach in the snow, and several more loops similarly restrained her legs.  As a finishing touch, one of them removed a brightly colored cloth from the pocket of his coat.  Folding it carefully, he pulled it tight over the yeti’s mouth, effectively muffling her speech.

As Sirocco watched, Alpa was lifted up, the yeti wiggling and squirming with every step.  Honestly, the goddess couldn’t tell why she was acting so upset.  This way the girl would be able to relax and enjoy being ferried about.  Mortals could be so ungrateful at times…

Her thoughts were interrupted by cold metal pressing against the small of her back.

“What should we do with this one?”

The leader gave her a leering smirk.  “He only hired us to bag the yeti, but I’m not one to pass up a good opportunity.  Let’s take her with us.  I’m sure she’ll be worth something to somebody…”

Sirocco had no idea whether to feel outraged or flattered by the comment.  Was this mortal actually daring to question her worth?  If so, she was going to greatly enjoy…

Her hands were grasped at the wrists and pulled roughly behind her.  Sirocco grunted in surprise, looking back over her shoulder to see one of the group holding her by the hands in what she assumed was meant to be a painful manner.  His companion pulled a line of near-frozen ropes around her wrists, wrapping them over and under and forming a very tight knot.

Careful not to use the full extent of her strength, Sirocco tested the ropes, feeling them stretch and creak but not break.  A serviceable bind, she decided.  Rather lacking in imagination though.  That… ‘shee-ba-reeh’ thing she had tried several months ago had been much more exciting.

“What do you think of that, hmm?”  The leader was right in her face, standing nearly on tiptoes to try and compensate for the differences in height.  “Bet you wish you’d kept that pretty mouth shut and just done as I asked, eh?  Thought you were so damn clever, didn’t y-AUGH!”

Having grown bored with his taunts, Sirocco lifted her leg and brought it down hard at his ankle, breaking the bones of his foot and sending him toppling backwards into the snow.

“Perhaps it was you that should have kept silent,” she taunted.  The stock of a gun was slammed between her shoulder blades, making the goddess drop to her knees in the snow.  Alpa yelled something into her gag as Sirocco winced slightly, twisting her shoulders to try and ease the slight ache to her back.  Her ankles were tied next, her calves after, and then several knots tied to her upper legs.  Sirocco grinned.  It seemed they had learned she was not to be taken lightly.  Pity that their caution would be for naught.

“Get ‘em both into a tent,” the leader growled through clenched teeth.  Pained tears gathered in his eyes as he glared up at Sirocco.  “We’ll… deal with them later…”

Both captives were carried back over the snowfields to the loose cluster of tents that had once been occupied by Alpa’s friends.  Unzipping the door, both women were tossed harshly inside, landing atop one another in a jumble of limbs.  The entrance was zipped back up, and the voices of the men soon gave way to loud wind and driven snow.  The storm had begun, and it looked as if they would be here for quite some time.

In that case, she might as well make herself comfortable.  Wiggling about as best as the ropes would allow, Sirocco cuddled herself up against Alpa’s side, enjoying the thick and fluffy fur of the yeti girl.  Ignoring the way her companion struggled and thrashed, Sirocco settled herself back and listened to the storm raging outside.  With a companion such as this… she was in no hurry to escape.

Looking up, Sirocco’s eyes flashed gold as they met Alpa’s gaze.  “Calm yourself, child,” she ordered.  “All will be well.  I saved you once.  I will do so again.”

Alpa’s eyes glazed over, a dopey smile crossing her face.  As she snuggled into Sirocco’s chest, the jackal smiled in contentment.

It seemed tonight would not be quite so cold and lonely after all…

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My entry for :iconeldritch-shambler:'s contest (eldritch-shambler.deviantart.c…) I really don't know what the heck I was thinking for this one.  I liked the idea of setting it in the Himalayas, as a setting befitting Alpa's origins.  From there I had the idea of Sirocco just happening by, and the two of them falling into the clutches of some handsomely paid bounty hunters, with Sirocco failing to take their predicament seriously in the least.

Definitely the hardest part of the story was trying to pin down Alpa's personality, so I'll admit I took the cowardly route and avoided too much dialogue or internal thoughts on her part XD

Hope you enjoy the read, and many thanks to Sham for holding this contest.

Sirocco belongs to my gal

Alpa belongs to :iconeldritch-shambler:

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Eldritch-Shambler's avatar
Oooh, I can't wait to see the pic for this! And it looks like Alpa got bolder after all this time! Good on her! Too bad she's still wanted...for moolah. XD
Great job Cro, this was quite catching read! Thanks for entering!