Chapter Text
Jack rushed through the forest, trees blurring a little at his speed.
He was sure that he was going to trip and fall at some point but all that mattered right now was to run. Very, very fast.
He could see the underbrush beginning to thin, signalling that he was getting closer to the village, which only seemed to make his pursuer more determined to catch him. The footfalls coming from behind him and Jack didn’t know whether this was a good thing or not but when he saw a large form land in front of him from above, effectively cutting off his escape path, he decided that it was definitely not a good thing.
Reaching out and snagging the trunk of a rather large tree Jack used his momentum to swing him around and in another direction, either not noticing or not caring that the gnarled bark cut into his hands. He could hear a deep laugh coming from behind and flinched slightly at the ‘thunk’ of an arrow sinking into the bark of the tree he just passed.
He could hear them yelling to each other, herding him and closing in on him. Making act like prey and feel just as helpless.
He yelped as an arrow sunk into his upper arm, the wound thankfully a clean one, and the shock of the sudden wound sent him crashing into a nearby tree “Hey, don’t hit the kid. He won’t be of any use that way”
“Fine, fine” He could hear them all arguing amongst each other nearby, knowing that they knew he knew they were there and knowing that he knew that they wouldn’t let him go. “Come on out, little bunny. We won’t hurt you” Jack wisely didn’t say anything, taking the opportunity to get his breath back. Now that he wasn’t running he could see just how badly he was shaking, the blood staining his shirt and running down his arm was not helping in the slightest though it may be useful in other ways. His mind was working in overdrive and, with the condescending name bestowed on him by his hunters, his mind was made up. It was this or nothing “Come on little bunny, we’re getting impatient” Bowing his head in defeat Jack came out from behind the tree. he looked the picture of defeat, head bowed, shaking and holding his bleeding arm. He peeked up through the streaks of brown hair hiding his eyes, seeing the victorious smirks of his hunters “It seems the little bunny has had enough of playing chase”
He held in a growl at the name and focused on looking meek as he made his way over to the two smirking men; he was not a little bunny and he refused to let his fate rest in the hands of anyone but himself. Once he was in range he let his injured arm snap out, catching one unsuspecting man in the groin and hitting the other in the neck. Grabbing both their bows and the remaining arrows he made a break for it, calling over his shoulder “you shouldn’t let your guard down around little bunnies” as a final taunting gesture to the two groaning men.
His times in the woods had served him well yet again.
Though he really did need to learn to keep his mouth shut. He cursed to himself as he heard the shouts of the other hunters, speeding away from the area through the undergrowth in order to make it as hard as possible for his pursuers. He was tired though, certainly not as fast as he had been before, and only the crashing and cursing behind him kept him at his current pace.Running through river beds and climbing over rocks had been hard on him but it was worth it, he seemed to have lost his trackers for now.
It was beginning to get dark and he was not only hungry but cold and wet. He hadn't regretted leaving his cloak until now, it was heavy and would have only burdened him in his race for freedom, but now that it was cooling down he could only think of how great a blanket it would have made. Unable to start a fire for fear of being caught due to either the light, smoke or a mixture of the two, Jack settled for a few handfuls of still tart spring berries and curled in the hollow of an old tree for the night.
His wound had stopped bleeding a while ago, while it had still been partially light out he had cleaned it in a cold but clean river and made a makeshift bandage from the bottom hem of his shirt. It would have to do for the moment.
Even when he was asleep he was tense and, wakening when he heard something snuffling outside the tree hollow, it was an understatement to say his sleep had been fitful at best.
He shot awake when he heard the barking of dogs in the distance, his eyes widening when he realized what it meant before narrowing at that same realization. Not only were they hunting him like prey, but now they were using the same methods as well.
-=-=-
After removing himself from the hollow of the tree and making a steady pace towards the far edge of the forest, Jack had quickly returned to becoming the fleeing prey after the dogs caught onto his new scent. Maybe it was the fear or maybe it was the blood, he couldn’t quite be sure but he did know that even if he had been at full strength he wouldn’t have been able to outrun them for long.
Running out of breath was probably the worst thing that could have happened to him at that point, but he would not have been able to say that he wasn’t expecting it. Collapsing on his side at the edge of a lake, covered in arrow wounds now and only half conscious of the dogs sniffing and pawing at his body, he knew that even if he weren’t to give up he wouldn’t be able to fight them anymore.
he must have blacked out for a moment, the next thing he knew he was being lightly poked on the shoulder by the end of a bow “He’s no use to us now, too injured”
“One of the other teens would be better, and probably more willing”
“The only mercy now is if we give him a quick death”
He groaned lowly as he felt someone grabbing his hair and using it to lift his head. He knew he must look like quite a sight, covered in arrows and with blood running down the side of his face as well as most of his body, but all he could do was give the man a side-on look before letting his eyes close. He couldn’t even see who it was, though from the voice that whispered apologies even as they pressed a knife to his throat it sounded like it was his neighbour. That was good, he’d know how to do it quick.
All he felt was the barest prick before his body went limp, blood running up his mouth in place of breath and staining his pale lips a dark red.
Neither of the three men wanted to carry the body of the boy that they had known for eighteen years. Deciding that it was best if they went to get a stretcher two of the men left for the village and one, the one with blood on his hands, stayed behind to keep animals away from the bruised and bloody body.
There was a disturbance, that much Aster knew.
The forest above the warren was usually overflowing with life and sound, even more so when he raced through them, but now they were deathly quiet and that was never a good sign. Another bad sign was the smell of human blood and fear, which crisscrossed the forest and convened in many places and made it rather hard to follow.
Eventually he came to the edge of a clearing and paused, seeing a very upsetting sight. In the middle of the clearing at the edge of a lake stood a man and a dog guarding the body of a spirit.
Spirit hunting was not uncommon, humans seemed to think that they were taking their life into their own hands if they hunted the spirits and gods of the world, and it was becoming frightfully common. It was an unfortunate sight but the kid was a spirit, he couldn’t die by anything other than a spirit weapon and Aster highly doubted that anyone nearby would have one.
His ears swiveled and twitched as they picked up the sudden sound of the dog growling at him. Focusing on the animal, he saw it slowly advancing towards him with it’s hackles up and it’s teeth bared as was to be expected of what seemed to be a prime hunting dog.
When the dog leapt at him Aster was ready, rolling back and using his powerful hind legs in order to catch the body of the dog and fling it behind him. He completed the roll and crouched, alert, a little further back in the undergrowth again as the dog landed with a yelp that made his owner rush into the brush a little distance away, wary of what could be lurking in the undergrowth but spurred on by worry for his hunting animal.
Taking the opportunity, Aster rushed out from the forest and raced over to the still form of the young spirit. Carefully scooping up the young body, wincing at the multitude of wounds that littered the boys prone form, Aster opened up one of his tunnels and disappeared down it before the hunter and his dog could return.
Even being as careful as he was as he made his way through the maze of tunnels in his warren, Aster could not stop the pain-filled whimpers that came from the unconscious spirits lips. There was no time that Aster could remember where he had been more grateful for the tunnel that lead to the work place of Nicholas St. North, even having to put up with the occasional elf or yeti sneaking through his tunnels had now been made worth it.
North was, among other things, the boss of some of the best spirit medics in the northern hemisphere and Aster planned on exploiting this fact now, launching himself from his tunnel into North’s workshop and smirking to himself at the commotion he caused at his entrance.
Once he uncurled from around the young spirit he found the form whisked away into the medical bay to be tended to while he was herded into the bathroom to wash the blood from his fur before he talked with North about what had occurred. Though, unfortunately, he already knew it would be a short conversation.