<div dir="ltr">I wrote this over 5 years ago and never got around to posting it. The Scenic Route Stealth Cat 2011 An odd object rested on the table. Stealth looked at the object, then to the rest of the room. Four brick walls contained a small dimly lit room with the table at its centre and nothing more. A bare room for a bare building, situated in a location he’d been lucky to find. He took the metal cylinder and moved it about, pondering its contents. It didn’t feel heavy, nor did anything move about within. “It is to be delivered to Sir Brightleaf of the Bow and Axe, Metamor Keep.” “I know where Misha is...” He said bluntly. “Where is Nestorius? Why hasn’t he handed me this in person?” “I do not presume on his lordship’s intentions... now make haste.” She ordered and left. The feline’s eyes narrowed. He muttered something under his breath and looked at the parcel clutched in his hand. Leaving the structure almost seemed as awkward as entering it, compounded by frustration. Stealth followed a narrow, winding hallway that forked several times before finding his way back out to sunlight, and then out of a compound back to the street. “Pompous lion.” He muttered. Stealth trudged down the streets of Hareford, tail lashing about. At least the streets were clean, a luxury that only cities with Suleiman history ever seemed to be afforded. Then again Hareford or Outpost if one prefers, had never been a city but just that, an outpost. As such all roads were vertical and horizontal so navigation didn’t prove a problem, so long as markings and the names of streets were observed; it all looked a bit repetitive to travellers and newcomers. Stone buildings towered high above narrow streets and alleys so the amount of natural light was minimal. Only the main thoroughfare really opened up but for the most part the city enclosed itself like an artificial forest. Though daunting, the structures and their density were impressive given that just several years ago it had almost all been reduced to rubble. --- The farmland outside the curtain walls was in stark contrast to the settlement within. It meant that sunshine greeted the feline as he began his run home. In the distance he could see woodlands where the amount of light would once again diminish and in there, somewhere to the south west, lay another settlement of tall buildings of sorts. It felt good to run on all fours, well, it actually hurt his paws running on the paved road, but it felt good to depart that stuffy domain. The road immediately north, west and south of Hareford were newly paved and beyond that the cobblestones gave way to dust and dirt. The tree line also narrowed gradually the further south he headed. It would eventually become quite dense but then give way again to pastures and crops further to the south. Stealth slowed to a trot and spent some more time pondering why the lion didn’t give him the parcel in person. He also wondered on the contents of it. Perhaps a letter, or documents or a map. Could it be a list of ingredients and a recipe for a spell or a page from an old diary or a drawing or some sort of small, unique objects? Something old or new? Something rare or valuable? Stealth mostly kept his gaze to the path ahead but occasionally his eyes strayed to the woods. At one point he could see what looked like a fox frolicking though it quickly darted into the undergrowth. Few journeyed this far north, however Metamor’s northern settlements still needed what they could not grow and coming out of another winter there’d be no exception. Three fully stocked and guarded carriages made the precarious trip north. Lake Barnhardt and Mycransburg would be far enough for many, of course even entering the valley at all would be too much for many! --- A casual gape became a slow trot, then a walk before he stopped and blinked unbelieving and frustrated. A tree? A tree! Resting on its side, severing the main north-south road. It wasn’t a big tree, that is, it wasn’t as big as those around Glen Avery, although that would be quite a monstrous tree, it was still large enough to need a detour. It looked to be a small redwood and on its side towered almost to the height of a horse. The ground showed a visible impact where it had landed and the feline knew it had been felled just that morning. There had been a storm the night prior, could it have been enough to cause this? It looked like a young tree with no disease so it couldn’t have been natural, could it? The cheetah sniffed about and peered into the tree line. He could make out the termination of the trunk and it looked to have snapped and crumbled on the far side, the closest side had the markings of deliberate damage. Stealth half expected a plaid beaver to emerge and clear a path but alas he was only wasting time gawking at the lumber. He paced back and forth a bit before finding a half decent portion of bark he could vault up. Not that cheetahs climb, but the tree didn’t know that. When he’d finally scampered up the feline looked at the ground south and directly below, hesitantly he jumped down. Several seconds into his renewed flight it ended just as quickly. Like the crack of lightning, something hit him from the right side. His balance failed him and he tumbled down a ditch. The feline came to a halt when he landed heavily on the dirt, his foreleg hitting a fallen branch. Out of the spinning, aching, nausea he managed to shift and haphazardly squirmed through the shrubbery. He still did not know what happened but training and instinct told him to hide or escape, anything than just waiting there to find out who did what. As he tried to move, Stealth felt around his shoulder and found a wooden shaft lodged there. He attempted to pull it free but it was firmly stuck in the plating, thankfully it had not pierced his flesh. Just then two more arrows hit the ground around him, a third hitting his leg and penetrating his armour between the plates. The feline opened his mouth, but no scream came out. As afraid and as pained as he felt he forced himself to remain silent and grit his teeth; to reveal himself would be the last thing he needed. Stealth could not remove the arrows from the armour, had no time to tend to his wound and couldn’t even cry out in pain! In anguish he freed himself of the enchanted plate armour and abandoned it. The arrow hadn’t embedded itself in his leg, though it still cut deep and was bleeding quite a bit. Clasping his wounded leg Stealth left all but his bag and slid away on his back, further down the ditch, melting into the foliage. He moved as quickly as he silently could, trying not to disturb the foliage on the way down. Though his heart raced, Stealth tried to relax his breathing and allowed himself to sink into the mud at the bottom. It had rained the night before so there was plenty of mud, which he hoped would help conceal him and mute his movement. He could hear footsteps and made an effort to lay flat and stem the bleeding on his leg. It was not deep but it was deep enough for an infection to take hold, he did not let the mud get near it. The cheetah did not stay put but slid on his back, pulling himself away from whoever attacked him. He stopped after a short distance and as gently as he could, Stealth reached into his pack and pulled free some cotton and dressing. With great pain he stuffed the cotton onto the wound. His eyes filled with tears as he pressed the wound but quickly tied the bindings around it. Later he’d do a better job of it but for now it wouldn’t bleed too much. As Stealth tended his wound his ears and eyes never ceased to scan his surrounds. The footsteps seemed to have ended where he’d left his armour. That was far too close for his liking, however it was far too close for him to make any real distance without being heard. Still, he’d be dead if he stayed there. As silently and as quickly as he could manage, the cheetah continued to slide on his back, down the creek bed. Bit by bit he gradually crawled out, into the undergrowth until it concealed him completely. Every movement was made with deliberate care. Every notch of ground he avoided anything that would make noise or shake the foliage. Even his tail remained still and hugged his legs. Stealth crawled between the trees, altering his slow, slow, course several times before stopping and waiting in a much darker part of the wood. Here his circumstances felt less precarious then anywhere thus far on his short journey through the underbrush. A large tree root flanked him and countless shoots of undergrowth consumed him. He waited and listened. As the adrenaline wore off he soon remembered just how cold the wood was. On top of that his fur had been soaked with mud and he wore no clothing, even his armour had been shed. Stealth had a clean pair of clothes in his pack but he’d not dare move at all until nightfall. --- As the minutes trickled away into hours the wood darkened and colour was lost to greys. Now the cheetah could properly tend to his wound. He tried to clean it and dress it as best he could, through grit teeth and in complete silence and darkness no less. Stealth did not rise from the ground, he donned his clothes first, hoping to ward off the chill, then snuck across the terrain, ever vigilant. He contemplated shifting but decided the wood was too thick and restrictive for a creature meant for the open plains. He found greater use in having hands for the time being. The feline so wanted to make haste and find the main road but remained patient and silent. To his chagrin the wound to his leg made for difficulty in just walking. He came across a small creek and walked along it, hoping to cover his tracks. His feet were numb when he stepped out onto dry ground but feeling gradually returned to them as he zigzagged through the trees. Despite the darkness he could see the ground ahead didn’t look right. Stealth crouched low and ran his hand along the soil and it felt disturbed. He threw a stone several feet in front of him and watched the ground alarmingly erode away revealing a large pit. The feline silently cursed and looked for a way around the trap, reminding himself that there were other forces out in the field besides that archer that wanted him dead. Stealth hid in the shadow of a tree and peered to the south and cringed. He cast his gaze over a grassy field, there were no more trees for many paces. The green field might as well have been an ocean. It wasn’t the first break in the tree line and it wouldn’t be the last but the distance to the next wood daunted him. But daunted or no he needed to press on. The feline crouched down and lay flat where he began the long and delicate task of crawling through the long grass. Halfway through his trek he came across a road, the road to Mycransburg, there would be no more long grass for several crucial feet. Fortunately it was the dead of night and he quickly made it across the dirt and back into the grass on the other side. Many more minutes passed before he reached the next wood but when he reached it he felt great relief in being able to stand again and continue on walking rather than crawling. As much as he wanted to, Stealth would not risk entering a town. He couldn’t help but envision himself being picked off in plain sight at the gate to Tarrelton. The cheetah shivered and hoped the archer would only give up long before he reached Euper. --- As the hour passed he could faintly make out footsteps to the north. The archer followed close behind! While he constantly scanned the woods behind him, at one point he could see a figure! It sent a shiver down his spine but he resisted the urge for clumsy haste. Stealth wanted to run for the nearest road and call out for help but he knew the futility and danger in revealing himself. He continued altering his course south, taking silent steps. Concentrate as he might on avoiding detection his mind raced with thoughts; thoughts of his injuries, of his proximity to home, his proximity to his assailant and thoughts of his impending demise... Why didn’t the archer slay him before he’d leaped the fallen tree? Had he caught the archer off guard or was it nothing more than a sick game? The thought of being hunted for game made the feline shiver anew. Of course then there was the question; who attacked him but more importantly why? When he thought he’d gained enough distance, Stealth stopped and reached into his bag, there besides a medical kit, snack and dagger was the cylinder. The top and bottom were sealed with wax, on the wax a symbol of a mortar and pestle. Stealth contemplated opening and destroying whatever it was, perhaps he would if circumstances were once again dire. But is this what his assailant sought? He had nothing else of value. Stealth replaced the parcel and continued south. He found himself near the main road at some points but avoided it. It was just before dawn that the Keep’s spires were in view, they were still some distance away in the south west but he continued onward through the woods south. As he passed through yet another clearing between woods, the tired cheetah found it more difficult to get back up. He had to fight the fatigue and press on. The further the cheetah got the more he felt faint, dizzy and nauseous and worried if he’d even be able to continue onward. He’d been travelling all night, several cuts and bruises sustained from the crash and of course a bloodied leg bound in makeshift field dressing. Despite this he did not stop to rest, lest risk losing ground, or even accidentally falling asleep. He’d almost missed it in his fatigue, a sight that troubled him greatly. In the undergrowth Stealth could make out shiny objects. He crouched down and peered at them. They were caltrops; spikes set down to be trodden on. Had they been there many moons they would show signs of weathering and even sink into the soil. These were freshly placed... could it be his assailant no longer followed him but rather lay in wait? Stealth looked ahead and up at the trees. He continued on, ever watchful for anything else amiss. He could not return home soon enough! --- It wasn’t until the Standing Stone was in view that he took a break and ate that snack in his pack, some cheese from Nestorius’ manor. He’d stashed it when he mistakenly travelled to the manor before being chided and sent to the actual, obscure, destination. He’d found no archer waiting for him in the remaining wood and now only one last field lay between him and the Euper gates. Besides the stone and what travellers were about interrupting the stretch of grass he could see no archers, though he had been followed through the long cold night. But this morning all he could see were carriages moving goods about. Nothing more. Yet he still felt unsure. Though it didn’t matter as he had no more woods or darkness for cover. Stealth finished his cheese and tried to clean up his wounded leg. He made sure to secure the contents of his pack once more, which of course included the parcel from the lion, and strapped the bag tight to his back, hoping upon hope that his problems ended the night before. He waited among the trees until he felt ready. It wasn’t long before he attempted to bolt for Euper but with a leg injury he couldn’t manage it and almost fell forward. Stealth caught himself on a tree branch. He swayed about for a bit in a dizzy spell before contemplating some sort of disguise or hitchhiking with a carriage. Stealth cursed his foolishness; he hadn’t made it this far just to jump into full view and risk his life. As exhausted and sore as the cheetah felt, he found the strength to press on and began the long crawl through the long grass one last time. --- He finally reached the gates of Euper and could stand up, on open ground. Exhausted and woozy he staggered through into the town. It felt good to no longer need to hide, on the other hand he received many stares as he fumbled through the streets but he paid them no heed. Stealth sighed when he left Euper behind, arriving at the road up to the lower ward. The uphill journey seemed to go on forever but he eventually made it up and cleared the gatehouse. The cheetah pressed onward into the lower ward, his only thought to arrive at the chief Long scout’s office with all due haste. From the gatehouse he looked ahead at the main road, his view broken by townsfolk and a well in the main square, beyond that he could see the next gatehouse far, far in the distance. Stealth started off and walked near any posts of railings he could see, lest he needed something to break a possible fall. In a bout of nausea the cheetah crouched down near a wagon in a side street. A moment more and an arrow sent splinters from the wagon flying, another embedded in the wall above his head. Stealth’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly ducked down a tight alley. He’d not made it home free and would not be safe, not until he delivered that damn parcel... The feline continued down several alternating alleyways, each narrower then the last. Eventually he squeezed through one more space between two buildings and arrived at the next gatehouse before the grounds of the Keep. He’d never been so happy to see the great doors to Metamor Keep, more so when he passed through the portal to find the Keep had been kind to him and provided a much needed direct and short path to Long House. He mustered what strength he had left to continue on for the final stretch. He fumbled down the hall, clutching his side. The guards stared but did not speak, ushering him through. The path through the killing ground and then the main hall with that large, green carpet seemed to stretch on indefinitely. He burst open the office door, interrupting and ignoring the discussion, his goal finally reached he staggered over to the desk and slammed the package down onto it with a load thump that sent everything on it dancing. “Someone... did not want you to get this.” he said in a hoarse whisper. Then Stealth turned to leave. The feline moved away from the desk, staggering a few steps. They watched him for a moment until Finbar grabbed him by the arms and Stealth gradually slumped down until the ferret bore all his weight and had to ease him onto the floor. “I killed him.” Finbar exclaimed. “Medic!” The fox cried out. <div> -- <div class="gmail_signature"><div dir="ltr"><div><div dir="ltr"><div><a href="http://www.furaffinity.net/user/stealthcat/" target="_blank"></a>My Deviant Art page - <a href="http://stealthcat15.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">http://stealthcat15.deviantart.com/</a> </div><div>My Weasyl page - <a href="https://www.weasyl.com/%7Estealthcat" target="_blank">https://www.weasyl.com/~stealthcat</a> My Fur Affinity page - <a href="http://www.furaffinity.net/user/stealthcat/" target="_blank">http://www.furaffinity.net/user/stealthcat/</a> </div></div></div></div></div> </div></div>