“That’s it,” the dark blue kiji stated. “You all see that?” He pointed at a figure on horseback, riding alone in the valley below. It was a pale rider on a black horse, and though at a distance was hard to make out clearly, to Garreth’s eyes, it appeared to be holding a weighing scale.
Eridanus’ lip curled. “I see it. Even from here, one can feel the land it treads on dying. It is not so different from its brethren.”
“How are we going to approach?” another white kijikaiaku asked. His fur had a pastel, iridescent sheen, and his wings, though lacking the aurora pattern on the ventral side, were similar to Eridanus’s. He frowned at the figure below, and crouched closer to the ground, tucking his wings in tight. His tail twitched sporadically.
“Like I have before,” Eridanus answered. “We just dive and tear it to shreds before it can pull off a counterattack. With as many of us as there are, it shouldn’t be too difficult to make this a single battle instead of a protracted one.”
“What’s ‘protracted’ mean?” a tiny, short-legged brown-and-beige kiji asked, looking up with large, almost innocent eyes.
“Drawn-out, lengthy, tedious,” a white-and-lavender kiji answered. Four horns sprouted from atop his head, the back pair long and curling, and the front pair thin and short. His star-shape-tipped whiskers twitched, and he, too, frowned at the seemingly ignorant figure below. “Much like our plans are beginning to be.”
“Oh,” young Swiftie responded, wrinkling her nose at Ganymede. “Well, that doesn’t sound fun. When can we have fun?”
“When you’re not looking death in the face,” a massive, dark brown kiji rumbled, cutting off Ganymede’s reply. His tail swayed idly, sending a stream of smoke and embers up, and his claws tapped impatiently upon the rocky outcrop he and the others stood upon. It was late in the day, the sun long past its zenith, and with any luck, Demon thought, they would be done before nightfall and he could be on his way home. How he’d allowed himself to be roped into a group effort, he wasn’t entirely sure, but The Firestarter was nothing if not persuasive.
A kiji who shared numerous similarities with Demon stood to one side, though he lacked wings, and small shining ring-like markings decorated his dark brown form. Tirloch shook his head, ruffling his mane, and said, “I always thought ‘death’ would look more… menacing. If the others were sickness and war, that leaves this one, and… one more? This is the one causing food shortages, right? Seems best we call it ‘Famine.’”
“It doesn’t matter what we call them. Our task is simply to remove them from this plane of existence,” Demon snorted.
“True, more or less,” Eridanus agreed. “Celavos, Swiftie, are you sure you’re up for this fight? You have a chance to back out and leave the violence to us.”
“I didn’t come all this way for nothing! I’m not a coward!” Swiftie protested, puffing out her fluffy chest.
“I am of the same mind as Swiftie,” Celavos answered, albeit lacking the same bold attitude. “I may not have the same experience as the rest of you, but I won’t stand idly by while these beings lay waste to our world.”
Ganymede smirked; a strange thing on a fox-like muzzle, baring a bit of teeth. “Well said. Now, not all of us can fly, so why don’t we all make our way down on foot? Our winged companions will still cast shadows while the sun’s up, and we don’t want to alert our quarry prematurely.”
A round of assenting grunts, nods, and affirmatives rose up from the other six kiji. It was Demon who turned first and led the way down, being the most familiar with steep, unfriendly, rocky terrain, and most able to guide the group safely without causing a rockslide or personal injuries.
Roughly halfway down the slope, Swiftie suddenly blurted out, “I wonder if the horse is female?”
Celavos blinked at Swiftie, vague confusion passing over his face. “What? Why would it matter?”
"I read in an old book about telling someone and their horse's mother to fuck off. If the horse is female, then it can be a mother, right?"
“I… guess so?”
“Looks too starved to have ever mothered anything,” Tirloch added mildly.
“Oh. Really?” Swiftie asked, and then turned her full attention on Tirloch, who could only grin and bear her strangely cheery attitude.
It was closing in on full twilight by the time they reached the valley below, and they’d all long since stopped their idle bantering, most of them turning their thoughts inwards. They trailed Famine, as they agreed to call the being, at a steady clip. Following the path of wilted flora, it was hardly a challenge, and before long, Famine was in their sights.
Eridanus signalled to Celavos and Demon, and a bit of running and powerful wingbeats brought them all into the air. Guided by Eridanus, they went higher, and without sun or moon overhead, they currently cast no notable shadows.
Below, Garreth led the way, closer and closer to Famine, who, for all they could tell, had yet to detect them.
Although, the closer they dared, the more drained they all began to feel, the near palpable press of the being’s aura and the miasma it emitted seeming to leech their energy.
Even above, Eridanus could sense the danger. He clicked his tongue in disappointment. He signalled to Demon and Celavos. “We need to finish this as quickly as possible. It doesn’t matter who kills it, so if you see an opening to end the creature, just take it.”
Demon growled his response. “Lead. We will follow.”
Eridanus inhaled deeply, and let the air out slow. He led.
A streak of white signalled to all that the fight had begun, as Eridanus dove from on high and slammed into Famine’s side. Famine flew from its horse’s back, tumbled across the ground, and then righted itself and began to rise to its feet.
Demon came down next, going first for the horse, believing the creature to be the easier of the two. He wondered, if he managed to kill it, would it weaken the rider? It was worth it, he thought, as his mighty, wicked claws sunk into emaciated flesh and the horse reared and screamed.
Celavos hung uncertain in the air, watching, waiting for a good opening. Swiftie had no such concerns, and after some wild flailing, she hurried to join Demon. She bit at the horse’s rear legs, but its panicked movements forced her to retreat several steps.
Garreth signalled for Tirloch and Ganymede to join him, and the trio raced for Famine. They closed the ground rapidly, and in seconds they would overwhelm the unwelcome visitor.
Assuming, with enough luck, everything went smoothly.