The Hunter's Song

Chapter 6: Lifeless (Eh'kt)

Content Warning: Reference to self-harm is present in this chapter.

...

This wasn't how I wanted her body. I was supposed to gut her and feel her blood on my claws. Hunts rarely go as planned and this one had surpassed all my inclinations. My prize was finally in my possession but according to the code, I couldn't claim it as my own.

It was a little over a day's walk back to my ship and I was eager to review the recording of our battle. Naturally, I intended to evaluate every detail in large-scale, but there were multitudes of input to analyze.

I had to readjust Mourning Crow's lifeless body slung over my shoulder while trying to access the keypad on my recently retrieved left wrist-comm. Actually, I needed to rearrange all of my cargo. Her body, redressed, of course, my wrist comm, her guitar, my combistick that was now permanently bent and wouldn't compress, all balanced together with only one functional hand.

Mourning Crow's tiny skull helmet was clipped to my belt. It was an odd little armament. Old, no electronics, and it was deliberately designed to force the wearer to shut their eyes. Also, the internal configuration was faveolate in structure. As if to amplify three elongated sections running along her forehead. This crucial discovery gave a new perspective to Mourning Crow's final showdown with the Graven.

I gave into a gruff chuckle. "The little psycho killed that fucker with her eyes closed."

A half-size recording materialized within my bio-mask, I fast-forwarded with my tusk to when the first pink goat appeared and zeroed in on Mourning Crow. I should have recognized sooner why she was so at ease in fighting the Graven. No uncontaminated person could be so righteous.

I growled and shook my head. The memory of her deliberately opening up her veins made my chest sink. I'm all too familiar with circumstances necessitating suicide, my own sire preserved his honor with such a maneuver. I may very well have seized control in a similar fashion had I been the one infected.

Regardless of my interrupted hunt and the Graven cadaver that disintegrated immediately after death, there remained numerous trophies to officiate. I could not claim her skull but I would cryo-store Mourning Crow's body and transport it to Sahei. The Institute will demand detailed records of this encounter as well as perform details scans of her anatomy. No aspect of this hunt would be wasted.

An elusive melody wriggled in the back of my ear. The song she sang this morning, it... I froze solid and then scrambled to rewind my personal archive further. This morning I wasn't listening. I was irritable and impatient. But there it was, clear as the sky above the forest canopy in the video. Mourning Crow was singing her plan to me.

Halfway through I had turned my back, but that didn't stop me from raising the volume now.

It was an upbeat ballad about the end of an endless contest and a lake she couldn't swim through. Many of the lyrics were colorful self-deprecating quips but each section contained explicit details. If only I had been in tune with Mourning Crow sooner. I paused on the image of her smirk while teasing me about a dance floor. Yautja don't have any interest in frivolity or dancing but perhaps it was an activity we should yield a bit more credence.

I skipped the archive forward to my favorite section, the part where she killed the Graven, and slowed the replay down to more closely dissect her footwork. Midway, I glanced over at her long legs hanging down over my shoulder then nudged the slender appendages with my stumped left arm.

Flawless.

She was surprisingly light considering the heft packed behind her punches. My mind flashed to her crouched over the Graven, ramming her fist through that monster's chest. I may have missed my opportunity to uproot her spine and skull, but that kill... Her kill, was an experience that would satiate me for a lifetime.