The Other Huntress (Kotallo/OC)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Fenrise

"Come on..." Orea groaned, silently imploring the rebel on patrol ahead of her to march her way. The moon had reached its zenith in the sky, fireflies dancing gracefully in the air. Yet for all its beauty, the jungle was sweltering, the huntress thoroughly tired of sweating her boots off. With Roger nestled next to her in the underbrush, she was essentially stuck in a verdant sweatbox. The quicker I clear out these rebels, the better.

The huntresses had departed the Memorial Grove two days with Hekarro's thanks and matching sets of Tenakth armor. Now the newest member of their party, Kotallo had split off from the sisters toward the mountains near Plainsong to meet with Zo, who would guide him the rest of the route. Orea and Aloy were also making their way back to Base, albeit at a snail's pace. They were intent on investigating and eradicating a few rebel camps along their way, hoping to gain some miniscule insight into Regalla's strategy-not to mention the former Marshall's bizarre connection to the Sons of Prometheus.

Said goal had led Orea to her current position, crouched in a patch of grass in the northern end of the Raintrace and luring rebels to their doom. Aloy was busy exterminating the scouts on the opposite side of the camp. Once the foot soldiers were cleared out, they could tackle the camp's central structure: a lengthy, wooden platform crushed between a grove of trees. So far however, the rebels had remained just out of Orea's range.

Forget it. Orea sighed, chucking a pebble straight at the aforementioned rebel's head. The man yelped in surprise, rubbing his bare scalp.

"What the...?" he murmured, finally traipsing towards her. "What was that?"

"About time." Bounding out of her squat, Orea plunged her knife into the rebel's gut, blood sizzling onto the smooth metal. The Seeker caught the rebel's body as he fell and dragged him into the thicket so his comrades wouldn't immediately notice his fate. That was the last of the scouts on her side.

"Aloy," she called over her Focus. "I'm all done on my end. How you doing over there?"

"Just finished. Let's head up."

"Right behind you." She turned to Roger, a hand over her lips. "Keep quiet buddy, and keep an eye on this place alright?" At the Burrower's understanding nod, Orea crept cautiously out of cover, dashing underneath the rebel scaffolding, flush against the tree bark. With faint steps she made her way around the outskirts of the copse, meeting Aloy in the middle.

"How many patrols were on your side?" her sister asked, a slim, gangly branch lodged into the tresses of her braid.

"Two."

"Okay, there were two on my side: one on foot and one with a Charger mount. Four down, that makes...twelve left."

"Drop and drag?" Orea suggested. "Take out the outermost sentries." Aloy nodded, fingers flexing in and out of fists as she considered the plan.

"Yeah, that should work. Good idea."

"I'll be bait, you've got the blow."

"Right." Hands gripping onto the gnarled wood, they gradually scaled the tree. Although the climb was slow-going, it was silent, which was leagues more important. They were in a terrible spot to be discovered at the moment; it was all the more important they remained undetected.

First one up. Perched just underneath the platform itself, Orea and Aloy hung perfectly out of sight, only able to detect the rebels with their Focuses. Positioning herself directly beneath a sentry, Orea let out a short, low whistle.

"Huh? Did I just hear something-" As the lookout stepped forward ever-so-slightly to peer into the dark jungle, Orea grabbed hold of his foot and yanked, plucking him clean off the deck. Aloy ran the man through before he could so much as scream. They dropped him discreetly to the ground. Repeating the technique three more times, they methodically took out the outpost's watch dogs. Now they're bound to notice us. Right on cue, a befuddled shout reached Orea's ears.