This was an interesting bit to write. I mean, I created the arena that I wanted in the island and I put these two on it at a time of year and in circumstances that would pretty much guarantee that they could hunt in a natural state for them. I even gave them wind and rustling fall leaves to make it different.
But until I got them here in this arena, I wasn't sure about how it ought to go. Anyway, I really hope this reads properly. I've read it through far too many times to maintain objectivity. A lot of coffee went into this chapter. o_O
---------------
He looked around the inside of the barn and saw something that would be perfect for what he had in mind there on the ground.
A horseshoe.
He stepped back to where he'd been and watched as she set her clothing down and placed her knapsack on top. The sword was returned to her back as she strapped the scabbard on again. Then he saw her strap a sheath onto her left thigh after she'd taken a few seconds to carefully look around before squatting down to urinate quickly, as though she didn't want to be carrying the slight weight of that around. She covered the spot with dirt swept by her foot, and then tightened the straps on the sheath.
A dagger and a sword, he noted, both with rubber hafts to keep the silver from her skin. So there was high silver content there, he thought. Silver was a terrible weapon material by itself, having little strength, but if it were alloyed properly or if it were plated on, that would be a different story. He somehow knew that this was an alloy. That was what he'd have wanted if he'd had a say in how it had been forged for him.
He was sure that she was doing this for his benefit, but wasn't certain of what she was trying to convey. Either she thought he was stupid and wouldn't now be watching her from someplace, or she was like him, and was certain that he would be watching.
Was he supposed to be losing confidence in himself seeing her weapons? Was this display supposed to tell him that his time was up or something?
All that it told him was that she was right-handed, but he did enjoy the show, he thought.
He watched her disappear out of his view as she walked around the building. He felt something of a primal urge, and brushed it aside to do nothing and keep watching. It took only ten minutes, but he saw her come around the other side, looking carefully about in a tense way.
He almost laughed out loud now. He knew that game perfectly, though he'd never played it. He was supposed to have been drawn to where she'd urinated to sniff to see if she might be receptive.
He was grinning now, enjoying it. He'd get her scent anyway soon enough.
Lia had assumed that he'd been watching. That he hadn't run right over to smell told her that this one was many levels higher than a newly-turned individual. Well that was fine, she thought. She'd have been disappointed if this turned into a quick kill. She looked around and went low. The ground told her which way to go, and it made sense. She headed cautiously toward the barn.
Standing now near one of the front corners, she could see the large door and down along one side. The open windows told her quite a bit. If he was inside, he'd more than likely seen everything up to this point.
That was good too. She approached the door.
He saw the changes in the light coming in under the edge of the door as she came close to it and watched the shadow deepen, moving back and forth. The sounds of her careful snuffling came to his ears. She'd realize that he was here in just another second. The door was very slowly pulled back, just enough to tell her that it wouldn't open because it was latched from the inside.
Lia stepped back to where she'd been. A quick look around the other side told her of only one window there, and it was closed. Back where she could look down the other side and also see the door, she stood ready.
He was inside, she was absolutely certain of it.
"Come out of there," she said.
Her answer was the stiff breeze ruffling her fur.
"Look," she said, "just come out. There's no point to hiding in there. I'll just rip the door off and then we can begin it if you wish. I'm not here to hurt you, unless you force me to."
Of course, he thought to himself with a smile, I'll just come out and we can be instant friends. Me with the hope of mating, and you with the silver sword and dagger. Doesn't every wolf-girl carry those things if she's hoping for a little romance?
He moved just a little sideways to allow himself just a moment to admire her form through a thin gap between the planks of the heavy door from well back so that she couldn't see the motion.
He shook his head. Why did she have to be so lovely? The way that she'd come here made no sense to him. Why would any werewolf come here for him? The weapons told him more than he needed to know, but why a female werewolf would come to hunt him made no sense at all. He almost sighed as he prepared himself.
He hefted the horseshoe for a moment to get the balance of it and thought back to the horse that he'd bought it for. That had been a crying shame that he still blamed himself for. He'd never owned a horse before, all by himself. That one had been perfect - friendly, strong and healthy, almost impatient to be hitched up for some work. He'd had a hell of a time getting the animal onto the island, but once there, they'd gotten a lot of work done in no time, he remembered. They'd both enjoyed every minute of it.
And then Danaya had come.
She'd ripped the poor fellow apart the same way that she'd torn up everything else in his life. To a man who'd known only farming, he felt that he also bore some guilt for the death of his cattle.
The loss of the horse had been far worse because they'd gotten along so well, but he couldn't have foreseen what she'd do while he was off working to get money for the things that he'd need to keep her from killing people. It still bothered him, he realized. He told himself that he should have known and just set the horse free, but he knew that she'd have found him anyway.
It was an island, after all.
He calmed himself, listening for his visitor's next move.
She'd force this in only another second or so.
"Have it your way then," she said as she stepped to grab the edge of the door.
The shutters of the closed window exploded outward off their old hinges, and Lia jumped and ran to the far corner of the building, hearing the crashing through the dead leaves receding through the trees on that side. When she got there, she saw nothing.
"Fair enough," she said quietly with a grin, and followed at a run.
He jumped through the open window on the other side, hit the trunk of the tree outside, and watched her run off from where he stood now on the roof. He'd smashed out the shutters and thrown the horseshoe. She was chasing the sounds of the horseshoe as it tumbled through the brush for a few seconds. He was satisfied that she'd fallen for the ruse, but was now even more puzzled.
He'd heard her clearly, and the last phrase had been spoken in Romanian.
He jumped down and went off in the other direction.
Lia stopped, and stepped forward. She was looking at a horseshoe, half buried under a few dried leaves. She picked it up and walked back to the barn, laughing at herself now. Her nose told her where he'd landed as she climbed inside through the window that he'd left by.
So this wasn't going to be a simple hunt for a half-crazed fool, she thought.
She stood there a moment and then went to unlatch the doors and push them open wide for some light. If he spent any time in here, she wanted now to get a better sense of her quarry. She looked around and thought of the builder and who he might have been, but shook her head. She wasn't here for that anymore, she thought, but then she stopped.
Maybe, she thought. It was still a possibility.
Her approach with her challenge had sometimes brought hiding males out almost following their erect organs, as ridiculous as it was, with them doing their best to charm the visiting wolf-girl. She never, ever showed any sign that she wanted to mate or was even the least bit receptive, they'd just always assumed it. The worst were the old ones who'd lived outside since they were turned. Many years of living the hard way usually turned werewolves into nasty-looking things.
The more usual response was a furious one, the actual door crashing outward. Those ones had always ended after a quick fight. Only a very few had done something else, and none had just tried to cover their escape with a ruse. It was as though he didn't want to hurt her or something, and had only wanted to get away. But there was something missing here for that to be plausible. She sniffed around and was certain.
This one wasn't the least bit afraid.
The ones who'd run from her had always been afraid because of her confident approach and the silver, if they could sense it. She could pick up their fear in the smells that they'd left behind. Their uncertainty had always turned to fear.
She sniffed again and realized that she was up against a whole new animal.
There was something here that set her back on her heels a little bit in wonder, and raised a possibility of something that she'd never encountered before in all her long years as a huntress.
He wasn't afraid of anything.
Was this just a game to him?
