Not Like You (The Simian Forest Saga: Vol. I)

The Crusade [XXVIII]

WARNING: This chapter contains heavy description of gore and violence. Reader's discretion is advised.

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A lone figure travelled upon horseback through the Simian Forest, the only faint sound breaking its waning silence being the crunch of snow beneath the dark chestnut's hooves. The messenger wore a heavy coat with a fur-lined hood and sleeves, a thick scarf bundled up around her scarred neck and throat. Her face was painted with sedimentary powder, brow marked with lines of ebony, across her eyes and the ridge of her freckled cheeks bones. Her vivid hazel eyes were liquid lime and tonic, lips hidden behind threads of robust wool excreting frosty clouds of steam. Snow fell quickly around her, on the look out for any movement surrounding her. Her bow and quiver rested confidently upon her back. Her eyes found something out of the ordinary and she slowed her horse with a gentle tug of the reigns and a murmur, slipping off the bare back of the handsome stallion. It was a long, clean cut in the wood of one of the nearby trees, leaking sap down the surface of its rough bark.

Krissa could tell it had been recently placed, judging by how fresh the oozing treacle-like substance was. Her eyes found the next tree, the slits growing more frequent, all pointing in the same direction. She took a deep breath and turned, quickly tying her horse to the nearest branch and following the weeping wounds. It took her a while to find the clearing, but when she finally did, she stepped out like a doe would into a field typically favoured for hunters. Without the tree-cover, she felt horribly vulnerable, fighting her own instinct to rush back inside and hide in the dead vegetation. Her head swung to one side, finding as she swept the entire clear with her gaze that it was abandoned. Once she turned to the other, she peered at what looked like an old broken-down truck. On top sat a cloaked figure, a skull adorned upon his head and a set of antlers pointing to the gun-metal heavens. Her fists balled. He sat motionless, like a vulture watching its prey, observing her as she moved so carefully toward him.

Once she was at a comfortable enough distance, she stopped, ankle-deep in snow. The wind whipped around her, stirring the few locks of raven curls that stuck out from her hood. It was so quiet. Not even a single bird sang, not even a raven. She knew they were waiting out in the bushes. It was when they stepped out, she hadn't been anticipating the number of them. Thirteen, a mixture of human beings and apes, joined their leader, two of them climbing out from inside the rusty vehicle. Eventually, Pine reached up and pulled back his mask in order to speak to her. His partially blind gaze rested upon her and she bit back a shudder. "I'm surprised that they keep sending you," Pine marvelled. "I thought they would.. send a scout."

"I am a scout," she bit out. The ape was visibly surprised by the strength in her voice. Three other times she had brought him a message from Cornelius, and three other times she had signed her responses. The first time, Pine had sent a scrawny human boy to deliver his request, going as far as meeting them at the sentry outpost. Directly after the message, he had moved to shoot himself with his own glock, but instead of doing so, Krissa talked him down. The cruelty of Jonas and Pine's wrath was astounding. The request was to send a single horseman out at dawn, have them travel until they found a trail of marked trees, and to follow them. There, they would find him waiting to speak to the messenger. Each time, it was Krissa who they had sent. Each time, she would remain silent and stick with yes or no answers. Each time, Pine would act just as disturbed as before. Not today-- today was different.

Pine tilted his head slightly and looked her up and down. "You, a scout?"

"A warrior, a scout, a fighter," she listed, keeping her eyes as steady as possible. She glanced among the apes, who looked at her warily, unsure of how to react, of how to take her in. Bringing her hands to her chest, she gave it a gentle beat, then allowed her hands to fall at her sides. Pine examined her like he would an insect as she continued and it only caused her anger to bubble up into her ribs from where it had simmered steadily in her stomach. "An ape."