"Tousands years of evolution and you are built like a horse drawn by a toddler."
Rudra nudged the head of Suba with his feet.
The rest of the body hasn't even hit the ground when screams erupted everywhere. The forest simply changed. What looked like shadows between the trees peeled themselves free. Dozens and dozens of shapes - some standing tall on two legs, some were on four.
"He killed Suba," spoke a voice right above their head- in now-dead Dhaman's voice, probably Marich- Suba's brother. It didn't sound angry. Or even sorrowful. It was full of sheer disbelief that their leader, their first , were cut down even before he could finish his whole speech. It was evident that they hadn't expected Rudra to really kill Suba. They had expected to get recruited.
"He killed him!" Someone else from somewhere agreed, snarling, voice crackling between human and animal. The rotten stench rolled out of the treeline in a wave, thick enough Rudra could taste as it coated the back of his throat. The white eyes of the shape shifters fixed on Rudra pale- and finally angry, as the shock left their body and the reality of the situation set in. That Suba was dead and Rudra was the one who had killed him- not in a fair fight, but during the talk of what was thought to be a negotiation.
The shapeshifters were trembling their form shifting between their humanoid appearance and their animal form - bones cracking and reforming, in ragged, uncontrollable bursts as their grief started curdling in undiluted murderous rage.
"He killed him___!"
"He killed him___!"
"Suba is dead__!"
"DEAD___!"
"Your Highness," Kesh whispered, "You shouldn't have killed the Leader. We are deep in their territories." He was right- by human logic. But not by the logic Rudra followed.
"It would have foolish of me had I not taken the chance," Rudra said curtly, "When the enemys leader shows up defenseless infront of you, it is rather the polite thing for a man to kill him to end the war fast. Cutting the head of the snake makes it easy to kill it fast. The head is gone," he gestured at the shapeshifters, "All remain is the tail. From hereon, kill everything you see moving."
It was not an order. It was rather an advice.
"Your Highness," Kesh's voice cracked, "My sword.."
Rudra looked down at his own hand. He had taken Kesh's sword, yes, but he didn't intend to return it, "Take Dhaman's," he jerked his chin at Dhaman's corpse, "Beside that, you have a better chance at surviving if I am the one holding the sword."
He looked at the shapeshifters to see them listening intently. They didn't look afraid even after the fact Rudra had killed their leader in a heartbeat. They didn't care.
The shapeshifters didn't prowl, didn't circle. They didn't test, didn't prove, didn't use any distraction or hunting tactics Suba had been using all this time.
Grief had made them stupid and stupid made them fast.
They bursted at Rudra from all directions, a wall of teeth and claws breaking from the treeline all at once, no formation, no strategy, just raw need to tear Rudra apart for what he had done.
Rudra took his stand, holding Kesh's talwar with both of his hands as he felt the last of his wounds knitting shut.
"Come on, then," he exhaled.
_____________________________________
The Forest had gone silent again. This time, the silence was different. Not the held-breath stillness from before the attack. The silence this time was .... empty.
Bodies laid everywhere. Some were fully human, most were in their animal forms. But there were a few which were caught in mid-shift, frozen in the awkward, half-forms of the shapeshifters which had died before they could even decide which form they should take. The rotten stench of the shapeshifters had transformed into something, well, more rotten. It seemed to cling to Rudra's clothes, in his hair.
Atleast the constant drizzle of rain had washed off the blood. Rudra stood in the middle of what had become a miniature mountain of corpses. He was a little out of breath.
Several times, he had almost transformed into his dragon form losing his control. But that would have been a catastrophic mistake. Had he transformed into his full 400 ft dragon form, the shapeshifters wouldn't have bothered fighting him.
They would have fled.
They would have gone hiding, regrouped, chosen a new leader and would have come to bother Rudra another day.
So he kept himself small, looking comparatively weak and stabbable encouraging the shapeshifters to keep attacking him. And it has worked.
The shapeshifters had not given up trying to kill Rudra and all of them had died in the end. Rudra looked to his left and found Kesh standing there breathing hard. He was doning a middle length dagger. He was drenched in blood- his, theirs - the rain did little to wash him clean since, unlike Rudra, his wounds didn't knitted close. They were open wide- one visible on his cheek, several on his arms and thighs- oozing out blood consistently.
But he didn't look afraid anymore.
Beside him, Sidh hadn't stopped swinging his sword. He didn't look like he was conscious anymore.
But atleast. Both of them had survive.
"Grab him," Rudra ordered, "We should move the smell attracts something else."
Kesh didn't argue. It had been a while he had stopped getting suspicious or doubt Rudra's orders. He limped to Sidh calling his name to snap the other man out of his trance.
Suddenly they heard footsteps, too many, too organized. Rudra's head snapped up, his hand against reaching for his sword before his mind caught up to his instincts.
Then a trembling voice called out from the treeline, hoarse but unmistakably human, "Hold Your Highness! It is us!"
It was Prit.
He emerged, Lohan and Taz at both of his sides, "Finally, we found you!" Kesh broke into a sprint, blade raised, "Dead should stay dead-"
Rudra grabs Leah's collar and yanked him back, "Stop! He's human!"
"But that....that...Suba," he swallowed, "He said he killed the three of them."
"A brag," Rudra said flatly, "He must have wanted us to feel isolated," he looked up at the three hunters' confused face, "These are humans. Trust me."
Kesh didn't question. Neither did Sidh. Their shoulders slump. Behind the three hunters, more and more hunters arrived - eyeing the pile of deadbodies with wide eyes and green faces. The less professional ones retched.
A flash of yellow caught Rudra's attention. A deer running away. Rudra didn't try to judge whether it was animal or Shapeshifter. He was already moving. He snatched a fresh quiver of arrows and bow, stole a horse from one of the newly arrived hunters who were gaping at him with a mixture of horror and awe.
And he was riding again.
Hunting again.
It was a never ending grinding. The deer led him to a fox hole with more of the shape shifters trying to hide. From there he found smaller and smaller monsters- lessers kinds.
The wounds on his body from relentless fights kept healing. But a bone-deep aching exhaustion was setting in his shoulders.
The sun went down. The hunters scattered. Rudra was alone. As always. And when he thought nobody was looking he finally got down from his horse, and leaned against the palace wall. He sat down.
One minute. He allowed himself to breath just one.... minute....
Something dropped on his head, light and careless. Rudra, hypersensitive from all the relentless fights, jerked. His hand shot up catching the thing and crushing it in his fist.
It was just a ball of paper. Rudra plained it, it read:
My Prince,
While reading of a book on hunting I found a particular technique I couldn't make particular sense of. It involved something about reading the treeline before the chase.
What. The. Fuck.