The Instinct

There he was.
His fair hair glowing . The sun  filtered through the forest peak in splotches of rays, striking his fine tresses, glinting as if they were made of gold. Peaking from behind his locks was thick flesh, horizontal to his face, just below his eyes and back a ways. Now and again, they twitched, the pair. His full body tense, gaze stony and concrete on target. Only this part of his body was allowed to flinch. The flesh beckoned itself at every crunch of a branch, flutter of wings, and whisper of the breeze. Who, where, what? It asked. If it was not enough by these to recognize the aelf blood coursing through his veins, then it was his eyes. The gloss was fierce, but with a gentle honesty, a kindness with no hint of cruelty. The deepest, wisest blue. These eyes were careful and calculating. Methodological, every step, every faint breath the escaped his pursed peachy lips was intentional. Fate often had no hold on his movements because he knew. So simply, it was that he knew he must step here, pause there, scuffle quietly until right here. The instinct was pure in him and no other forces could manipulate that. A full blooded aelf as he, it was not uncommon to be so serious. Aelfs were often born, flying through the trees at a mere month. Not even scattering a murder of ravens with their tiny steps or frightening the most timid of forest creatures with the whoosh of an arrow. They always moved silent and swiftly, the gift of the instinct. Never taught, never explained, but simply trusted to be the way of the aelfen.
         Quickly, his long ears flickered up twice and to the left. His eyes veered in the same direction. Nostrils flared expelling a soft breath as his body moved gracefully quick, arm stretched back grabbing the smooth shaft of an arrow, while the other raised the bow. Clipping his hands together so rapidly it was almost unseen, the bow had raised higher, arrow's end snugly cleft between his thumb and finger. His hand just barely touching his cheek below his unwavering stare. Never pausing to blink or breath in again, he let go. The arrow cut through the air, surged past a many tree trunks, leaves fluttering in its wake before a sharp shreik shattered the soothing sounds of the forest into silence. Ears twitching now thrice, he dropped his arms to his side and with his golden hair billowing behind him he took after the shreik.
Just as his arrow, he fled through the air. Poised and stern faced, eyes portraying no fear or surprise, not even pride, he flitted onto the clearing in which the instinct had lead him. Draped in the long grass of the earth writhed and shrieked a hideous thing. Its solid black body contorted, muddy brown tangles of hair flung widely while its mouth lay wide and gaping. Clawed hands grated against its chest, talons sprouted from its flailing feet. The white tip of the arrow barely seen above the deep green of the forest blanket as it protruded from  the creatures abdomen.
Silently, he stood and calculated the situation. The ear splitting cries bothering him not one bit. Taking in every corner of the clearing and then the sky, the instinct prodded him forward. With each step, he felt beneath his boots the soft earth, the moisture pushing itself around his imprint, bending the grass blades down until they were too tall, taller than his knee caps.
         At this the creature halted its writhing for a moment to roll its neck toward him. Great wide yelllow eyes cast its murderous glare upon him. One hand flung out toward him, claws bending, beckoning. When it let out another murderous call, he still walked forward unnerved. Halting just out of arms reach, he bent down to one knee. Matching the creatures gaze, its hideous face contorted upwards into a maniacal smile.  Its weathered skin crackling under the movement. Seeing its lack of effect on him, the creature turned its mouth around once more to howl when something happened. The creatures cry quelled, its body being pushed to lie flat and still against the earth. Its eyes never left his penetrating gaze while his locks flounced around him as if a heavy updraft had come, but yet as his hair flowed upwards gently, the air only grew more still. The creatures breaths grew more shallow and serene. Some force within him was bidding the creature to lay still. The very same force was exuding from his body in some kind of release, forcing his long hair to wave and his sleeves to flap.
         “What business do you have in the forest of Amsden, Harpie?” his voice came out in a gentle flow of soft tones, befitting to his kind eyes and his calm demeanor. It was warm to the ear. The harpie's eyes rolled in its small, flaxen skull before settingly on the sky. As if the fight had left it. Quieter growls and screeching spilled from its cracked black lips. He let the harpie finish its growling of explanations  using his powers of translation to turn her squallor into words he could understand. Between soft gasps, she said
         “There is war on the horizon.” Her eyes still glued to the sky. “We harpies see that from the moutains which you  soft bellies cannot comprehend. “ She paused once more. ”The message has been delivered, sisters.” Her warning did not strike him or if it had, his face showed no signs. He then delivered his own.
         “Your place in the mountains, be sure to give this message to your sisters there and all Harpies.” His voice held no malice, no anger or hatred, but the severity of the command rang through.You could sense the power behind his final words. “You are not welcome, never return.” He stood swiftly, plucking the arrow from the Harpie woman, and turning on his leathered heel back towards the forest line. Behind him the sound of large wings flapping thrundered. A great wind rushed towards him, blowing his hair into a blizzard – impossible for him to see, but yet he continued on assuredly. Never turning his shoulder to watch as the Harpie kicked its taloned feet off the ground,  a red juice oozing from its stomach, spilling down the black cloak like dress all harpies wore. Mouth wide in its calling, she spiraled higher and higher until she was a mere black dot in the heavenly blue sky before even that disappeared in the glow of the daylight.

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         A whistle rang through the tree tops. Three pelting notes, low, high, mid reverbating through the trees. Once the notes had faded into the airwaves a new thunderous pounding took its place. It was far in the distance, but surely just the slightest rumble quaked the earth growing louder with every moment passing. Then again went the whistling, more encouraging this time; a certain power behind its sound, calling to the thunder. Bidding it to keep coming. Moments continued to pass with every quake getting stronger, the rolling claps louder. Just then, bursting through the tree's was a streak of white. A stallion with a mane of fresh green foliage twinged with golden brown streaks. Its hooves of cobalt dug into the earth before gracefully trotting to a stop. Shaking its thick neck causing leaves of its hair to fall beside it sinking into the earth, molding together. Its amber eyes twinkled before releasing a small nickering from its muzzle, lips flapping gently. A cool white hand placed itself on its forehead, between the eyes murmuring the sounds of a wave. The stallion stomped its hoof impatiently, jolting its head up twice playfully. A smile crossed the man's face, his blue eyes laughing. Swinging his bow over his shoulder and placing one hand on the stallions soft back he swept himself up onto the stallion. Clutching the forest of hair in his palms, he clicked his tongue to his teeth and in another roar of hooves the stallion was off. A white streak blazing through the painting of brown, green, and black trees, earth, leaves, and dirt. Until quite suddenly, they were gone. The forest behind  and beyond them silent in their after moments of treading through.  The stallions hoof prints in the dirt marked eight. Two identical prints right next to each other where one would assume only a single should be. It was no wonder then, how thunderous and quick footed an eight legged horse might be.

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To be continued...