Chapter Text
In the riot of life present in Greenpath, one could find much of interest. Small creatures busied themselves between fragrant flowers and dewy, lush foliage. In the intervening centuries, the stately Pilgrim’s Way had grown thick and unruly, with nearly all of the once well-kept Mosskin structures now being swallowed by the riot of greenery.
Now, well hidden above the newly cleared path, among the thick vines hanging from the cavern ceiling, Hornet watched silently as Lace again stomped past one such crumbling structure. She had missed several of the marks Hornet had left for her, apparently unused to searching out such signs for her quarry, and had doubled back thrice over trying to pick up the trail again.
The air hung close, humid and heavy, which had made brush clearing all the more unpleasant and would have made tracking a scent trail a simple matter had Lace possessed the ability. As it stood, Hornet shifted slightly to get more comfortable and considered how much longer she would allow her pursuer to flounder below.
Stomping her foot and yelling something unintelligible, Lace violently attacked a nearby shrub, destroying it to its roots with her pin before stabbing even those repeatedly.
Hornet decided she could wait a little longer. Patience didn’t seem to be Lace’s strongest skill. Such practice would be good for her.
They’d agreed to a modified rule-set for this bout; Hornet would hide away in Greenpath with the standard hour’s head start, and Lace would have until daybreak to find her here. A training exercise as much as a game, Hornet had left what she considered to be an obvious trail; claw marks, paw prints, the occasional line of silk, and Lace would need only to follow them to find her. Perhaps hiding up in the trees was not in the spirit of the exercise, but it did make for an effective vantage point.
Below, Lace stumbled upon a fool-eater and dispatched it with great enthusiasm, her eager footwork trampling over some of the carefully set paw prints Hornet had left for her. Hornet exhaled slowly, fighting the temptation to scold Lace on her carelessness. She would need to be more observant in Hallownest, where she did not know every crack and crevice, if she wished for a successful hunt. Luck stood on her side that she needed not the skill to survive.
No, all she needed was Hornet for that.
A now familiar disquiet settled over her. To have such a distinct advantage over another was unpleasant, even more so when some deep set Pale instinct relished it. Lace, like anyone, deserved her freedom, to choose and experience and live the life she had been gifted, regardless of who gifted it to her or how. It was only fair for Hornet, after slaying Lace’s mother and ensuring her emergence from the Abyss, to grant her as much of that freedom as she desired, providing her with silk as needed and companionship as requested, and to avoid overstepping as others had done in the past.
Lace was not hers, nor should she be. She held not the position of power to say no.
Unbidden, the memory of the City’s baths came to mind, of soft silk under her tongue and the insistent grip on her fur, and Hornet banished the thought with extreme prejudice. Their first hunt had stirred her as little else could, a predator's instinct coupled with attractive prey, and what had initially been intended as a lesson in humility and her slaking the need for the kill had spiralled rapidly into something headier.
Worse still had been Lace’s eager response and ongoing interest. Fuel to a fire Hornet could not allow to burn.
Hornet allowed herself a quiet sigh, watching Lace finally find the trail and chase it down the overgrown tunnels towards the Lake of Unn. She stood and stretched languidly, knowing there was no hurry to catch up, before crossing the network of vines and stones towards the lake. It had been an age since she had last taken a mate and thought naively the base instinct had withered. This had been an unfortunate way to learn the contrary.
The Lake of Unn stretched to the edges of the cavern, its acidic waters hissing quietly and filling the air with acrid steam. Above, long-bodied aluba flew heedless of the dangers below, content to ride the wafting air currents without care for the newcomers to the cave. Lace was standing at the edge of the pier watching them when Hornet caught up to her, hiding behind the crumbling shrine to the god of these lands. She crept closer, remaining hidden yet wanting to ensure she was close enough to act should Lace decide on a poor choice regarding the acid below. It had been some time since her last episode, but one could not be too careful in such matters.
Her concerns proved unfounded as Lace spun and continued the hunt, following a line of silk with her eyes as she stepped past Hornet’s hiding place toward the ceremonial clearing. The urge to turn the game around and pounce came and went with her proximity. Apparently childish fancy was another part of her that hadn’t withered with age, instead waiting to be awoken.
Finally, in the clearing, surrounded by the enormous carved stones depicting ancient prayers to Unn, Hornet decided on mercy. Lace stared down at the paw prints she’d left, now marred by her own footsteps, and was tapping her pin against the floor in telltale frustration, her shoulders tense. She cast around the cave for another sign, muttering under her breath something distinctly insulting before stomping back towards the rest of Greenpath.
Hornet landed near the entry to the lake and called, “You nearly had me, Pale one. Would you care for a reminder on how one might track footprints?”
Lace whirled to face her, manic frustration crossing her features. “I do not need your damned pity, spider! Were you so eager to lose that you could not wait for me to discover you myself?” She stormed towards Hornet with an expression that raised her hackles. A sore loser, indeed.
“You lost my trail repeatedly; I do not see how you would have found me at all.” Hornet tightened her grip on her needle, watchful of what might turn out to be an impromptu sparring match.
Realization dawned on Lace’s face. “Were you following me?!”
Hornet blinked innocently. “Perhaps.”
“Ugh!! You are a cheater! How was I supposed to find you if you were chasing me?” She tapped the tip of her pin against a stone, the metallic tick tick tick tick a metronome for their argument.
“By following the trail I had left. You would have eventually been able to corner me if you tracked-”
Lace barked a laugh, interrupting her. “Oh, of course, and I shall simply trust you to admit defeat and allow yourself to be caught? That’s rich.” She narrowed her eyes on Hornet. “If you had not cheated I would have found you fairly ages ago, just as I did in Pharloom. Admit to the fact that I am just as skilled as you are.”
“In your home caves, perhaps, but these lands are far different than your carefully constructed Citadel. Adaptation is key. You cannot rely on prior knowledge to hunt your prey; you need to react to the present and adjust yourself to new findings.”
The irony of her own words sunk in a moment later, but Hornet did not rescind them.
“It seems as though my prey was intent on hunting me,” Lace countered, “Though, it is not as though that would be anything out of the usual. You apparently can’t help yourself.” She raised her chin, smug, and Hornet felt abruptly off-balance.
“I am no slave to base instinct, Pale one.” Belying her own words, Hornet watched in rapt fascination as Lace reached to run her fingers over her throat. The memory of Lace’s soft silk under her tongue returned and with it came a rush of heat and tension through her shell that hit her like a punch to the gut.
Lace snickered, and Hornet schooled herself back into neutrality. This had proven a dangerous game after all, and not in the way she expected.
“No, of course not. Beast that you are, even if the mood strikes you it seems you are far too civilized for such things.”
“Count yourself lucky that I am, lest I had lost control and torn your throat out.”
“Would that have been so bad? You still could, you know.”
“Lace,” Hornet warned, her voice low, “I know what you’re hoping for, and I will not play your games. Do not play me for a fool.”
Lace tittered, batting her eyes in mock innocence. “Oh but you do make for a convincing fool, spider! And anyway, you need not play this game any longer; I’ve won, after all.”
"Have you now?" Hornet huffed at Lace’s hum of assent. "Pray, explain your reasoning for such a deduction. I am sure they are as well founded as your other beliefs." Grateful for the change of topic, Hornet allowed the comment to slide. She could better argue her point of civility when not warring with those same base desires.
"Simple. The rules of the game were to find you, and here you are. Therefore, I've won." Lace smiled, sharp as a knife, and drummed her fingers along the hilt of her pin, resting now in her hand like a cane.
“You did not find me; I revealed myself. That is a distinct difference,” Hornet returned, amused, “And if memory serves, the round would end when the prey was caught. That is how we marked each of my victories."
"So you want me to catch you then?" Subtle tension worked through Lace's legs, and Hornet realized with a start that she'd made a losing wager. She readied herself anyways, taking a half step back, ready to flee.
"If you are able. I will not be so easy to-"
"Sure, sure. Ready yourself then!" Lace launched after her, pin barely missing her cloak as Hornet darted up on a line of silk. She rushed towards the narrow, overgrown tunnel leading deeper into Greenpath as fast as her legs could carry her, racing along lines of silk whenever possible.
The drop in the neighbouring cavern provided the distance she needed, rocketing through the winding vines and thickets of wicked thorns, distinctly aware of the sounds of Lace crashing through the greenery behind her. A flash of gold to her right sent her darting along another silk line towards the Pilgrim’s Way. Kicking off a freshly upturned stone, she had half a mind to grab for the mirrors taken off the thespian butterfly of the Citadel and use their dazzling effects for a distraction, deciding against it for the time it would take to ready them. Instead she leapt over a sizzling pool of acid, hoping the steam would disguise her direction, only to hear Lace’s footfalls mere moments behind her.
Her error grew more apparent as the chase continued. Lace could be blindingly fast when she chose to be, and with her pride and victory on the line, she did choose it. Hornet narrowly avoided being caught as they came to a fork in the path, feinting left before darting to the right, a blur of pale silk in her periphery warning her of how close the game had become.
From predator to prey, Hornet found her setae raised with the adrenaline of the chase. Her heart thundered in her chest from both excitement and nerves, and every instinct within her screamed for Hornet to turn and fight, but that was not how this game would play out.
She would abide by their rules even if it meant a loss. She found she couldn't be disappointed with the idea in spite of herself. She only hoped the prize Lace had in mind was reasonable.
Regardless, a plan of action formed in her mind, the mental map of Greenpath her only boon. She leapt off a thick, knobbly root, propelling herself forwards. The sounds of Lace's pursuit came quicker than she would have liked, with an echoing thud against the wood close behind. Racing along the leafy tunnels, Hornet sprinted for the dark, winding path deeper into the kingdom.
Fog Canyon. She could lose her in the mists and gain the upper hand, she only had to reach it-
Before her next jump, the curled pommel of Lace's pin hooked her leg. Hornet spun gracelessly, pulling free and barely managing to avoid being sent sprawling by the cheap trick as she caught her balance. She staggered back a step, her back colliding hard with a brickwork wall covered by small ferns and forcing the air from her lungs.
Lace was on her before she could push free, catching the arm bearing her needle and pinning it to the stone as she crowded her against the wall.
Grinning devilishly, Lace only said, "There. I win."
Breathing hard, Hornet fought to silence the rumbling purr building in her chest, embarrassed by her response. "So you do. Well done."
Somehow managing to lean even further into Hornet, Lace giggled at the clipped tone of her words.
"Aww, is the little spider not used to losing? No, no, don't growl at me, I've won fair and square." Eyes going lidded, Lace studied her expression with a hum. “Now, what do I take from my prey?”
It was centuries of carefully maintained self control that kept Hornet from moving. In that moment she wanted fiercely, to bite, to catch, to be pressed into the stone and tamed, the animal of her body ignoring the necessary limitations she held herself within as though she were entering mating age for the first time once more and not well past such base nonsense.
Hornet silently hoped none of that was as apparent to Lace as it felt. Perhaps after this she would disappear to the Kingdom’s Edge and remain in solitude until she could keep herself in check.
“I assume my own silk would not suffice?” Hornet ignored the rough edge to her voice and hoped Lace would do the same.
“No, that would be far too easy. I have something more personal in mind.” The hand pinning her arm slid lower toward Hornet’s wrist as Lace pressed into her, soft in ways that made much of Hornet’s higher processes blank out.
She leaned in instinctively, eyes sliding closed.
Except-
Her needle was abruptly ripped from her grip as Lace palmed the hilt and leapt away with a vicious cackle. Hornet’s eyes flew open, her initial embarrassed confusion immediately being replaced with indignation.
“You are not serious,” Hornet snapped. Lace was backing away, inspecting her needle with a practised eye. She did not even hold it correctly!
“Oh, I am very serious. I’ve seen plenty of your blade’s edge and yet you’ve never once offered me a try with it! Awfully rude of you, spider.” Lace spun her needle, nodding to herself before shooting Hornet a coy look. “If you want it back so badly, you’ll just have to come and take it. I’m sure you’re familiar with the rules by now. Time starts now!”
And with that, she was off. Slowed slightly by the unfamiliar weight, Lace raced back up into Greenpath with her laughter echoing in her wake. Hornet exhaled hard, collapsing back against the brickwork and scrubbing her claws over her mask.
Honestly, this was a preferable outcome. The distance made cooling her blood easier, and she now had plenty of time to master herself before chasing Lace down and retrieving her stolen weapon. Another game of chase, another hunt. She could behave herself.
She had to. For both their sakes.
Except, of course, her pride did not want to wait. Hornet’s needle was precious to her, and Lace simply couldn’t be trusted with it. That was, of course, the only reason she would break the rules and start her hunt early. Not the buzzing tension in her shell, nor the ache in her teeth.
Her self-imposed isolation could not start until she retrieved her weapon, after all. It was imperative she go collect what was hers.
Which was her needle.
And only her needle.
Sound logic. Hornet worked well with sound logic, base instinct be damned. Retrieve her blade, tell Lace in no uncertain terms that she would not give in to her and to cease her teasing, and then she would abscond to the distant reaches of the kingdom until she could control herself. An excellent plan needing only swift execution.
Which would mean that once more, the hunt was on.
Silent as ever, Hornet darted up on a line of silk, catching the scent of Lace in the humid air and following her, setae on end with the thrill of the chase.