Sometime ago…
The aftermath of the battle had begun to settle, but Kaela's sharp amber eyes darted to the treeline where Thane had vanished. Her claws, still stained red, flexed instinctively, and her ears twitched at the faint, distant sound of something moving—something fleeing.
"He's running," she growled, the words edged with feral determination. Her predatory instincts roared to life, and the chase called to her like a drumbeat in her chest. "I'll hunt him down."
"Wait, Kaela!" Alaric called, his voice firm but strained. He shouldered his bow and stepped toward her. "We're in no shape for another fight. You've seen the others."
Kaela glanced over her shoulder. Dain was kneeling beside a fallen bandit, pulling his spear free, his shoulders rising and falling heavily. Lyra sat against a log, a bloodied bandage around her arm as she whispered an incantation to heal her wounds. They were spent, their strength sapped by the ferocity of the battle.
"I'll be fine," Kaela said, her voice low and resolute. She wiped a streak of blood from her cheek with the back of her hand, her claws glinting in the moonlight. "He couldn't have gotten far. If I leave now, I can catch him before he disappears."
Alaric hesitated, his brow furrowing. He knew Kaela wouldn't be swayed. Her kind—the Beastfolk—were born with ferocity and are hunters. Once they had the marked something as their prey, they wouldn't stop until it lays still.
"Be careful," he finally relented, though his voice carried a hint of worry. "We'll clean up here and tend to the wounded. Come back… whole."
Kaela smirked, her fangs catching the light. "I'll come back with his head." Without another word, she turned and sprinted into the forest where Thane had fled, her movements fluid and soundless as a predator on the chase.
"Dain, check the perimeter," Alaric ordered, pulling a cloth from his pack to wipe himself clean of blood. "Make sure there aren't any stragglers hiding out there."
Dain rose slowly, leaning on his spear before straightening with a groan. "On it." He moved with his heavy footsteps crunching the dirt as he disappeared into the dark edges of the clearing.
Lyra took a shaky breath as she finished her healing spell. The faint glow faded from her fingers, leaving her looking even paler than before. "These bandits…" she murmured, casting a somber glance at the lifeless bodies. "They're getting bolder. Attacking seasoned adventurers like us? They must have thought they couldn't lose."
"They had their reasons, we were considered a big caravan, since we had 8 carts of goods their greed must have blinded them" Alaric said grimly. He knelt to search the mage's body, pulling free a small, tattered pouch of runestones.
Alaric reassured the caravan people "I hope none of you're hurt. If you did let us know immediately". " Garrick you guys are free to move". As the caravan people slowly began to regain their composure, the adventurers worked together to organize the group. Garrick ordered that the wagons be reinforced and the horses fed, for the journey had to continue despite the bloodshed.
Meanwhile, Kaela moved through the forest like a predator on the hunt, her movements silent and fluid, each step a whisper against the earth. Her senses were heightened, every snap of a twig, every shift in the breeze—a symphony of pursuit. Her sharp, feline eyes scanned the dark forest, and her nostrils flared, drinking in the scent of Thane's fear. It filled her—raw, intoxicating, and stoking the fire of her rage.
He'd enjoy her. The memory of his sneer, the vile confidence dripping from his words, churned her stomach. And when he was done, he'd pass her to the next. Those words weren't just an insult; they were a sin, a mockery of her existence, of her strength and of women. The audacity of it was a stain she could not let stand, a darkness she would not allow to linger in this world.
This wasn't just a hunt; it was retribution. This was rage, pure and unrelenting—a primal force surging through her veins, born of violated dignity and righteous anger. Her heart pounded with the electric thrill of the chase, the rhythm matched by the beast within, clawing its way to the surface. Each breath she drew fanned the flames of her fury, sharpening her instincts. The thrill of pursuing a prey so desperate, so pitifully clinging to life, was a song to her senses. Kaela was closing in on Thane, her soul ablaze relentless to end him. This would end here—and so would he.
He's close.
She crouched low, scanning the dark forest. The path ahead was uneven and wild, littered with exposed roots and jagged stones. Thane was fast, but his pace was erratic—a man running blind, driven by panic.
Her lips curled into a dangerous grin. He wouldn't last long.
A snapped branch rang out to her right. Kaela's head whipped around, her amber eyes locking onto movement deeper in the trees. She sprang forward, weaving through the forest like a wraith, her claws ready.
Thane ran, his breath ragged and his legs burning, but he didn't dare slow down. The silence from the battlefield behind him told him all he needed to know—his men were dead, every last one of them. The sounds of clashing steel and desperate cries had faded, replaced by an ominous stillness that sent a chill down his spine. Desperation coursed through him, overriding exhaustion, and narrowing his world to a single, desperate goal: survival. Getting out of this cursed forest alive was all that mattered now.
Thane stumbled into view, his face pale and glistening with sweat. His chest heaved, and his eyes darted wildly as he gripped a short sword in trembling hands.
"Stay back!" he shouted hoarsely, his voice breaking. "You… you monster!"
Kaela emerged from the darkness of the forest, her movements slow and deliberate. "Monster?" she echoed, her voice a mocking lilt. "Did you ever think of that when your men slaughtered the helpless? When you ambushed the innocent, robbed the weak? When you pillaged villages and destroyed the lives of women?" Her gaze narrowed, a dark understanding in her eyes. "I have a vague guess about who you are. You must be Thane." She paused, her lips curling into a twisted smile. "The one who thinks he can toy with the lives of the powerless and women without consequence."
Thane took a step back, nearly tripping over a root. His sword wavered as he pointed it at her. "I… I didn't mean—"
"Save your breath," Kaela snarled, cutting him off. "It won't save you now."
Thane sobbed. "Mercy... I—"
"Mercy?" Her lips curled back, revealing sharp teeth. "Did you show any to the people you burned, slaughtered, and ruined?" She tilted her head, studying him like prey. Then, she lunged.
His cries turned into high-pitched shrieks. The sounds that followed were primal—brutal, and unforgiving. Thane's pleas for death echoed through the forest, but Kaela denied him quick release. She tore through him like the beast she was, reveling in the vengeance she claimed.
When silence fell, only the distant rustle of leaves remained.