World of Darkness: Balance of Power - [Vampire] The Great Hunt

[z-Sam Vimes]

It had started innocently enough. Sam didn’t notice Puck carefully steering the conversation to this very topic; she would have freaked out a little had she noticed. It had always been a personal rule to not discuss religion with religious friends. She’d done that once; it had ended poorly. She’d had no sense that Puck was in way religious; all he seemed to do was party and do the minimal amount of things required by the other dead people in the city.

He’d ambushed her well; she was calm and relaxed and wholly unprepared for serious discussion. A talk about the impact of the media on humans – she refused to call them Kine – segued into a discussion on the evolution of print. At some point, the Church began to be discussed – it was literally impossible to discuss the influence print without it entering the discussion – and Sam was stealthily lured into disclosing her religious views.

“I don’t know that God exists,” Sam said bluntly, her dark eyes resting on Puck. She was comfortable enough around him that even the taboo subject didn’t raise the normal red flags for her. “There are times I wonder if something does, but at the same time, I don’t think it knows about us or cares. All religion is made-up stuff for people who need it.”

“Why do you think that?” Puck asked from his cat-like lounge on the sofa across from her.

“I think that were God real, he would have mentioned things like werewolves and vampires,” Sam said easily. “He’s got angels and demons and giants, but no supernatural creatures to speak of. And I know they’re real. So I think that the Bible is made up, and that none of the religions have it right.”

“You didn’t have Comparative Religion in college, did you?” Puck asked.

“I… no, why?” Sam asked, feeling preemptively stupid. It had become a common reflex around the two-hundred-year old man before her.

[Shosuro Miren]

"Well, mostly because there a great deal many more books out there than just the Bible. And most of those books do mention us. Or the lupines, or the mages, or any of the others things that truly do go bump in the night." He sat up a little more, his eyes bright as he watched her and decided he'd enjoy making a pupil of her. She was just....yummy. "Vampires didn't suddenly pop into the human experience with Bram Stoker or Ann Rice. There are plenty of ancient gods and goddesses that were Kindred, loved and worshiped and feared by their followers. Most folk legends, and that's just really old religions that got ground under but never quite snuffed out by the march of the Catholic Church, talk about the witches and hex-makers. I've met one or two in my time, and the stories hardly due them justice. Then there's the religions completely outside of Christian influence: the Hindus with their three-in-one god, which might sound a bit familiar, and their thousands of goddesses and household deities. Kali, for example, the goddess of destruction that's ever dipped in blood. The Kami of Asia, the shape-changing gods of just about anywhere. Religion, and God or Goddess or the gods or whatever you want to consider that power in existence to be, have had quite a bit to say on the matter of the supernatural."

He leaned forward and held out his hands, still grinning in that way that sent shivers up her spine, "Hell, even Kindred have religion of one kind or another. There's an entire Covenant out there dedicated to mourning itself just as devoutly and with near the same trappings of the Catholic church." He lounged back again, putting his hands behind his head and shrugged, "And then there's the rest of us that aren't quite so into molesting little boys and telling women that they're damned for all eternity for being smarter than the pricks around."

"There's more to it than that, of course. For me, though, the whole divinity thing is a pretty simple matter...." He let his voice trail off, watching for the telltale sign that she was still with him. That she wanted to know.

There. She'd leaned forward, the question just starting to form on her lips.

"Passion. Every religion has been about passion. Controlling it, killing it, exalting it, being passion. We have it, gods want it. Find the right one, the right god or goddess, the right passion to know them by. There's nothing else truly religious in existence than passion. Without that, what's the point of living?"

[z-Sam Vimes]

"There are a number of religions that deny passion," Sam noted, her voice becoming dry. "Buddhism, just for one. Passion isn't the end of religion; it's fanaticism. Which is a kind of passion, if not a healthy one."

This was an interesting insight into her benefactor. She's assumed he didn't have a religious bone in his body due to the way he lived his life. But it he believed that passion was the highest from of religious worship, then that changed how she viewed him. If that was the case, it meant that he did a lot of worshiping.

"I mean," she continued, "look at it this way. Fanaticism allows for no maneuvering, for no mental or emotional room. And passion comes close to fanaticism. You ask what the point of living is without passion. There are religions that make a point of living without passion. They exalt that denial of the self, the id. You mention killing passion, or controlling it. What about simply acknowledging it but not letting it control you? What about that?"

[Shosuro Miren]

"Yes," he said, moving to sit next to her on the loveseat, leaning over as he sat to murmur wisdom of the ages, "but those religions suck."

He arranged himself to his satisfaction, closer to her but still able to watch her easily, "And the difference between fanaticism and passion is huge. Passion can lead to fanatacism, and fanatics can be passionate, but it's like crime and fire hydrants. They happen to be in the same place for reasons unrelated to each other. Buddhists are the perfect example of religious fanatics that are intentially without passion. There's lost of kinds of fanatics too, not just the religious nuts. There's fanatic atheists and people that worship science far more ferverently than your average Christian worships any of the iterations of their god. There's scholars that spend their entire lives pouring over books or data. They're not always passionate, sometimes they're just driven or deparate or egotistical. Just like how most music fans are passionate about their genre or band or style, without being fanatics. They can keep close company, but they're different beasts."

"And for acknowledging passion and not being controlled by it," he shrugged, "that's just good sense. You can't really enjoy something until you know you can let yourself revel in it without losing yourself in the process. Control, and knowing when and how and if you cant let it go, it essential to staying alive." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle, "Or in whatever metaphysical state you find yourself in. How about you? What are you passionate about?"

[z-Sam Vimes]

Sam was quiet for a moment. She'd mentioned in passing that her interest in the supernatural was personal, and there'd been so many things she had to know first that the topic hadn't been addressed again.

Sam licked her lips, feeling oddly reluctant and possibly even shy. She rarely talked about this and it showed in her recalcitrance. It wasn't a matter of trust; she trusted Puck with her life, literally and every day he allowed her to live unbound. "I want to find out what happened to my mother," she said softly, her dark eyes focusing on his bright blue ones. "She was kidnapped one night and returned before dawn. But she wasn't the same anymore. She'd changed," Sam said softly. "And that's why I do what I do. No one believes me; my mother denies it. But I know something happened to her, someone hurt her, and I want to know who and why. That's what I'm passionate about."

Yeah, she was a fanatic, in her own way. She'd sacrificed quite a bit to focus on this goal - boyfriends, friends, and in some ways, even some of her life. But she had to know.

[Shosuro Miren]

It did enter Puck's mind that he might be crossing personal space boundaries with her to pull her into her arms and settle her against his chest, but that whisper had long since gotten used to being ignored. He stroked her hair and she could feel the rumble of his voice, and surprisingly a heartbeat, in his chest. "Well, we'll figure it out. I'll start looking into it and see if it was anyone on my side of the life and death divide. Though, usually, if it was one of us, those people don't get sent home unless it's their position or contacts that the Vent- Kindred is after. Did your mother have any power or know particularly useful or influential people?"

He paused and she started to speak, but he put a finger to her lips. "I do want to hear your answer, but before we get completely sidetracked, I want to point out that that wasn't exactly what I meant. You're focused on what happened with your mother. Driven. But that's not passion. It's mostly fear, and hurt. I wanted to know if there was anything that made your heart beat fast and feel like your whole body just wasn't large enough for whatever you were feeling; if there's anything that just makes you full of wonder and awe that it even exists. That you exist." He pulled his finger away and smiled at her, his sapphire eyes guileless as he let her answer his questions.

[z-Sam Vimes]

Sam jumped when he touched her, wondering if he was going to start macking on her or something. She wouldn't be surprised to learn that talking about passions got him hot. It was like leaning against any other guy - warm, comforting and just nice. Being touched always sparked a deep fire in her and just because the guy doing it this time was dead didn't change a thing.

Sam was quiet, thinking. Slowly, she relaxed into the vampire, enjoying the thundering of his heart, loud as a drum in her ear. "I don't know," she admitted softly after a time. "I don't know that anything has ever made me feel like that, except for you." Catching what she'd said, she quickly backtracked, blushing. "I mean... finding out about the vampires, about who you were. It was... exhilarating to learn that something so secret was actually true. It's been amazing since then."

[Shosuro Miren]

"Hmm." The sound rumbled through his chest and he trace a fingertip down her cheek; his own skin, just warm enough to 'pass', left a shiver a cool against her heated blush. "You've never felt that way...until us?"

He let that linger enough to smile as her blush deepend. "Kindred, I mean," he explianed. "We vampires and our secrets."

He continued to trail his fingers over her skin, a casually intimate touch that soothed as much as it teased and excited. "That is a true tragedy in the world, Samantha. You have so much...virve, so much life. While I can't say that it doesn't please me to be your first...exhileration, at least by by virtue of being Kindred, it seems a true shame that you've spent so much of your life without really knowing how passionate you can be."

He watched her through half-closed lids, contemplating something as equally mysterious as the nature of his undead being, his voice a low murmur now, just for the two of them. "You should have that chance, to really know yourself and your passions. To marvel at your own existance."

[z-Sam Vimes]

Sam was silent for a long moment, not sure what to say. Finally, she replied, "I don't know that everyone gets to feel that. Some people - and believe me, I know they exist, I've met them - don't get to feel like that. They don't seem to have the ability to feel passion or awe. Well, without aids, anyway. I might be one of those people."

She'd never felt like she belonged anywhere. She'd never really felt like another person had touched her. She hadn't been sure she was a person who could feel that - until Puck. Sam felt the sudden urge to kiss him, but that wasn't right. They weren't dating - not each other - and he was more like a big brother than a boyfriend. He was her guardian more than anything else.

[Shosuro Miren]

"Aids?" His tone was still that low murmur, but it had an intensity to it now. "I have yet to meet anyone that hasn't needed help at some point or another to remember, or even get to know for the first time, how passionate a person they can be."

He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair, tilting her head to look up at him. His touch moved from soothing to a slowly building sensuality that would have made a romance novel blush to see it. He hadn't leaned in to kiss her yet, but she could read the tightly coiled control in his expression as his touch sent shivers through her body. "Let me help you, Sam. Let me show you my passion, my faith, and help you find yours."

[z-Sam Vimes]

Oh, such enticing words those were. Sam felt her resolve to keep things on a certain level with Puck start to falter. She'd always been deeply curious about the vampire's... abilities in certain areas. There was his own boasting, but more impressive were the whispers of his prowess she'd heard throughout the house. She was sure they were elaborated, but until that was confirmed, she was dying to find out for herself.

She was also afraid. He used sex and faith pretty interchangeably, something that even an agnostic like her had trouble handling. She knew that was a very cultural thing to feel, but it didn't change the fact that when he mentioned passion and faith in the same sentence, while touching her like that, a very Puritan part of her cringed.

Sam wanted to take his offer, but fear warred with curiosity. It was curiosity that made her murmur, "Ok," but it was fear that added, "But I want to know more about what you mean first."

[Shosuro Miren]

He leaned in close to her, his lips hover just above hers, before he grinned and kissed her chastely on the cheek. He settled back, his senses pushed beyond human limits to take in every nuance of the woman still mostly pressed against him, and motioned to her. "Ask away. I don't promise I'll answer all your questions -after all, part of building passion and atmosphere is mystery- but I'll answer what I think I should."

His eyes were definitely cat-like now, following her movements with the amused prowl of a predator with willing prey. "Do you have a...particular...question or fear?"

She'll be beautiful...and perfect. I know the others would enjoy a celebration, and I could invite India as well. I should send invites to Aftiel and Moira, too.

[z-Sam Vimes]

Sam's heart lurched as he leaned in, and she was almost disappointed when he merely kissed her on the cheek. She tried to be angry that he was teasing her, but she couldn't feel anything like that when he was playing so expertly with her senses. Instead, she felt a little emboldened and she dared to touch his chin. It was just a light brush of her finger, but it was the first time she'd made a move.

"Alright," she said, pausing. "Um, let's see. Does this involve sex? Do you mean passion in just the emotional sense or the carnal as well?"

[Shosuro Miren]

He grinned, his eyes sparkling, and moved just as she touched him so that she'd brush more skin with her touch. It was a singularly fluid movement that was almost too smooth; for a brief moment her eyes and her brain argued over what had actually happened. "Well....it doesn't have to," he conceded, "though that seems to take half the fun out of it. Aftiel's group isn't much for ritual sex, but I don't think you're quite his religious...speed...either. I'd say that it's really left up to the participants, though no one's yet exercised the no vote."

He played his fingers over the sensitive skin of her neck again, unable to help himself. He was drowning in her at the moment and holding on to his self-control only because what he was about to say was a core tenet of his existence. "I'll tell you what, I promise I won't write sex into any formal part of what we do and anything else is up to you. No one here is interested in unwilling partners; sex, sensuality, worship, all of that is something to share, not to endure or inflict. Is that enough of an answer to your question?"

[z-Sam Vimes]

"Yeah," she said, her skin tingling from their brief contact. Sam felt a little dizzy from all the attention and excitement but she didn't pull away. She didn't want to pull away. "I guess the only thing I have left that won't completely ruin your surprise is, what should I dress for? I don't need specifics, but if I wear my usual and we end up at a nice restaurant, I'll look dumb."

It was really hard to think about rational things when he was doing what he was doing to her. The sad thing was that he wasn't really doing anything; he was just lightly touching her neck. She'd had boys do more and elict less of a response from her. Centuries of practice... Sam really tried not to dwell on that.

[Shosuro Miren]

"Sturdy shoes," came the teasingly unhelpful reply. "A long-sleeve shirt is also probably a good idea, and jeans. No shorts. And I'd put your hair up, but that's only a suggestion."

He caught her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing her palm gently. "Your 'usual' should be fine, and these affairs are almost always Crone-only events." He paused and glanced down at her, "Have I gone over the Kindred social scene with you yet? I don't recall at the moment, and if I hadn't that probably didn't make a whole lot of sense. Either way, it'll just be us, the family, and maybe Aftiel and Moira."

"Oh, and you'll want to make sure that you eat several hours before we start. These things can go on for a while once they're started."

[z-Sam Vimes]

All of this made it sound like an outdoors affair, so Sam added the things that a vampire wouldn't think of, like bug spray. "Ok," she conceded. "I think that's what I need to know for now."

"That's all I'm going to tell you, certainly," Puck said, giving her a little bounce so that she swayed against him.

"Stop that!" she said, giggling a little.

"Make me," he rejoined. Sam stared at him a moment; emboldened by her decision and his closeness, she suddenly stabbed her fingers in his side. For a second, she was surprised when he didn't react, before remembering he was a vampire. Then he returned the gesture, and sent her into a giggling fit. Shrieking and giggling, they ran through the house, pulling others into the game until it was more than a game. Sam slipped away at that point, letting the others have their orgy. She wasn't ready for group sex, and wasn't sure she would ever be.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sam got out of her beat-up car and looked around the wooded area. Outdoors: check. Weird people in the woods: check. Probability of being in my own personal horror movie: high.

She was ready for just about anything. She'd bathed and showered, then dressed in outdoor-suitable gear including tough boots. Unsure what to expect, Sam sat on her hood and waited.

[Shosuro Miren]

Puck wasn't there to greet her; instead it was Zach, the defacto head of the family - well part of the family at least, Sam hadn't quite figured out all the tangled politics there yet - met her at her car and led her through a minor maze of trees to clearing where a bonfire was already glowing in the twilight gloom. The family was all there, though most of them seemed attired more for a night club than camping in the woods. She spotted a few others in practical clothes, Zack included, but they were a tiny minority in the throng of people. A cheer went up when she was spotted; Zach released her to the custody of his wife, Ella, and her entourage of women. There was quite a bit of giggling for a religious ceremony, Sam noted absently.

"There now, here you are. We were starting to wonder if you'd changed you mind," Ella teased.

"Nah, she's hooked already, El. I can tell." Pix winked at the journalist; she had 'dressed up' for the evening, meaning she had more metal and spikes on than a morningstar and her leather was recently polished. The henna tattoos up and down her arms were new, too;the intricate knotwork and depictions of women flowing over the punk girl's arms were an odd mix with the studded nature of her outfit, but somehow it fit. She grinned at Sam, "Just remember, he's Puck in every sense of the word. Don't take anything for granted and-"

"That's enough, Pix," Ella said firmly, smiling but the steel of a matriarch in her eyes. She gave Sam's clothes a once over and nodded in approval, "Good, you dressed well. Nice boots."

Pix mouthed, 'you'll need them' from behind Ella and several of the other women burst into a fresh round of giggles. The matriarch of the little group shot them all an arched brow. "Is anyone setting up the circle, hmn? Or are we just gossiping while Puck and the others wait on us?"

Several scurries and few more giggles later Ella and Sam were standing alone; Pix returned after a moment with a bowl of red-brown henna and a thin brush. "It's customary to mark the participants in the ceremony, Samantha." Ella rolled up the sleave of her top to show a tattoo of a woman in black ink standing under a blood red crescent moon. "We usually use henna unless someone decides they do want a permanent mark; you don't have to do the henna even, if you don't want to."

She picked up the brush with the ease of long association and smiled. "Want to give it a try? The henna fades in a few weeks if you decide you don't want to keep a mark."

Click to reveal..

For those involved in the fic, feel free to have your character already there or show up. The ritual is still being set up and I'll get it under way after a little bit of socializing.

[z-Sam Vimes]

Sam hesitated then nodded. “Sure, I’ll try the henna.” She started to bare her arm but Ella pulled her closer to the fire and pulled her jacket down over her arms. It was warm enough here that Sam didn’t miss the extra layer, though she did shiver when Ella moved her hair to one side and bared her neck to the cold. For a few moments, there was only the soft sounds of people talking while Ella painted an elaborate design on her neck. When that was done, Ella told her to keep still and let it dry while she moved on to Sam’s wrists. On Sam’s left hand, she drew a horned motif, and on her right, a full moon framed by two crescent ones.

“Thank you,” Sam said when she was done, though Sam was now wondering what the hell she was going to say when people asked her about them. “They’re pretty.”

“Thank you and you’re welcome,” Ella beamed. Settling next to her, the woman began working on another member of the family who’d come to sit down.

“What do they mean?” Sam asked Ella, hoping that she wasn’t disturbing her but consumed with curiosity.

“The neck is just some pretty knot-work-”

“Like when a French chef pours caramel all over the plate,” Pix giggled softly, though she subsided at Ella’s glance. “But the left hand is the symbol of the Horned God, while the right is the symbol of the Goddess.”

“Oh,” Sam muttered, unsure how she felt about being marked with religious symbols. After a moment she shrugged her unease off. She’d told Puck she’d try and she was determined to do her best to not be a downer. She’d done that so often in her life – come to a party and then said or did something stupid. So she just sat back by the fire and waited for her Henna to dry.

[Moira Fitzgerald]

Moira was the next to arrive. Sam had yet to meet the Cronite, since she wasn't a member of Puck's "family", but she had heard her name mentioned around the house, as well as bits and pieces of information about her. She was a "follower of Lilith" (whatever that meant), as well as a scholar (though the phrases Sam had heard used were "bookworm" and "crazy-smart"). She had also been described, in a vague sort of way - she knew she was Irish, and a red-head, and "elegant-looking". But none of that had really prepared Sam for Moira's presence at tonight's event.

The woman who stepped into the wooded area was both stunning and deadly-looking. Pale skin glinted in the moonlight, and her vibrant, curly red hair tumbled loosely down her back and over her shoulders. Stark red lipstick contrasted against the lightness of her skin like blood - no doubt her very intention. She had long, elegant fingernails that had been painted red to match her lips, and black eyeliner around her eyes that seemed reminiscent of Egyptian kohl. She wore a black leather lace-up bodice with simple spaghetti straps, and a black string bikini. From the bottom edge of the bodice flowed a sheer black train, split down the middle to expose her stomach and legs, and flowing behind her in a way that reminded one almost of a jacket that had only been partially buttoned. Finally, on her delicate-looking pale feet, she wore simple black gladiator-style sandals that laced up her long, slender, perfect calves.

The skimpiness of the outfit, however, paled in comparison to the obvious reason for it. Indeed, the outfit seemed to not so much draw attention to Moira's attractiveness, so much as serve as framework for the art that currently adorned the exposed portions of her body.

Unlike the mortals present from Puck's family, Moira didn't seem to have used Henna as an applicant. Come to think of it, could a vampire's skin even be dyed? Instead, she seemed to have had someone draw or paint designs on her skin, in midnight black ink. Ella knew better than to be offended - whomever had done Moira's design work had probably spent hours on it - far longer than the talented artist knew she could have spent on any one individual at the ritual, anyway. Unlike Sam, and many of the others present, there was no elegant Celtic knotwork covering Moira's body - something one would have doubly expected, considering her obvious heritage. Instead, there were mostly.. snakes. Graceful, highly-detailed, stylized drawings of snakes, interspersed with occasional symbols that were more geometric in style, making them appear more ancient than the elegant Celtic motifs. They twisted up the beautiful Kindred "scholar's" legs, across her arms, and over her hips. One even wrapped delicately around over her shoulder, and then up around the other side of her neck. The only exception, as Moira walked past Sam, was her back. Bare of the serpents adorning the rest of her body, the dangerous-looking Irish woman's bodice cut low, exposing most of her back. And there, starting at her shoulder-blades and extending down in a slight curve towards her spine, was the most beautiful drawing of a set of angelic-looking wings that Sam had ever seen. They very tips of them disappeared into the bodice as it wrapped around her lower back, and the spill of red curls fell down Moira's back, between the wings so as not to obscure them.

Those who knew Moira well knew that she took her rituals seriously - and that tonight was obviously no exception. It was enough to send a little trill of terror along the spines of those mortals present (though of course some liked that kind of thing...), knowing one of them was going to be hunted by one of the followers of the dark goddess - the original succubus, whose daughter was standing before them in all her terrifying glory.

[Shosuro Miren]

Puck sidled up behind his other guest for the evening, his fingers trailing over her exposed skin as he kissed her light on the neck. "Beautiful as always, Moira. Are you ready for the hunt tonight? Zach is quite...excited." The mercurial vampire's chuckle was low and dark.

Around them, the family sensed the change in mood. The party shifted from a casual romp in the forest into a buzz of purposeful activity. A large circle was cleared around the bonfire, which was a mix of red embers and the occasional flare of a tongue of flame. Symbols were traces out in the ground, some in white powder that Sam assumed for now was salt, others in a dark liquid that she just decided for now was simply a dark liquid. They ringed the bonfire, leaving a winding walkway around the circle. One by one, the family walked that path, taking up their places until only two gaps were left on opposite sides of the ring.

Ella finished the final touches on the henna, blotting away the excess liquid and blowing on the stains to set them. The family matriarch took Sam's arm and led her over to where Moira was waiting just outside the circle. "Wait here, Moira will take you in when it's time." She gave the young woman a tight hug and released her to the custody of the follower of Lilith. Somewhere in the circle, a drum began to tap out an intricate rhythm.

Another sound joined the rhythm, slowly building into a chant that would have made Gregorian monks weep for it's beauty and complexity. The language wasn't Enlish or even a Latin derivative; it was something darker and older and spoke directly to the soul of those fortunate enough to ever hear it. It made Sam shiver and sent goosebumps racing over her skin.

"There are faiths that preach that existence is composed of elements. Some say four, other five, even a few that go as high as eleven or thirteen. Science, the modern faith, currently lists over two hundred," Puck's voice shimmered out of the twilight of the circle. He'd entered the circle at some point during the chanting and now paced around the bonfire. He scooped up a handful of dirt and let it sift through his fingers back down to the ground, "Earth." He motioned to the breeze that was chasing through the clearing, "Air." Then to the bonfire behind him, "Fire." He smudged some of the wet dirt of one the symbols between his fingers and smiled at Sam, "Water."

"These are aspects of creation. We've all experienced them. We know what they are. But these are not the fundamental elements of existence." He held out his arms to encompass their surroundings, "Nor are hydrogen and helium or any of the millions of molecules that exist. These are the how and what's of the universe. Not the why."

The chanting had continued throughout his speech, interweaving with the drumbeat and the cadence of their leader's words. "The why of existence is always passion. Mortals are made of it, gods devour it, and in between Kindred invoke it where ever it may be found. Passion is found everywhere, but it never so great as when it touches upon the divide of life," he smiled, and for the first time Sam witnessed the fangs Hollywood vampires had made famous, "and death."

"The modern world forgets this. They cheapen life and forget the beauty of death. They exist, coddled in their ownership of the natural and unnatural worlds, and bleed their passion away drop by drop in lives that never soar or fall. They avoid angels and demons with equal fear, knowing that to leave the sterile safety of their well-lit streets and manicured lawns is to invite the unknown. The chaotic. The passionate. And so here in the silver light of the Mother," he gestured up to the nearly full moon, "bereft of gadgetry and electronics, bereft of the safety of numbers and science and daylight, we follow old truths and old customs. We honor our dark and chaotic Mother," he motioned to Moira, who took Sam by the hand and led her to the center of the circle, "our fierce and untamed Father," a similar gesture brought Zach, covered in henna tattoos himself, along a mirror path to where Puck was pacing. The four crossed paths and Sam found herself standing with Zach on the opposite side of the fire from Moira and Puck. She caught Puck's predatory smile as he finished, "We hunt."

Zach grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the gap in the circle in front of them, grinned and hissed, "Run!"

[z-Sam Vimes]

"Wha-?" Sam's exclamation was cut off as Zach pushed her again, more firmly this time, toward the gap. As she stumbled into motion, those watching broke out into cheers of delight. Sticking to Zach's heels, she followed him up into the trees, until she couldn't see the fire anymore. "Why are we running?" she gasped.

"Because they're hunting us!" Zach laughed.

Sam stopped. Zach didn't. She started running again. "You mean, for blood?"

"Among other things," he replied with a laugh. As they hopped over a creek, Sam began to understand why so many in the commune were so fit. "Piece of advice. You can keep following me if you want, but that just means they'll find us faster. It also means you'd better like girls."

As Sam gaped at him, he put on another burst of speed and began to outdistance her. He was way more fit then her, and Sam knew it. Remembering the old detective stories she read as a kid, she turned back to the stream and began to run in its shallow bed. The water rarely passed higher than the tops of her boots, so her feet were still mostly dry when she reached the fork in the steam. Here another bit of water converged with the one she was following. It was deeper here with the two streams, so she turned and followed the smaller one upriver. At one point, she got out, walked about twenty feet into the woods, then walked backwards, putting her feet in themselves carefully to avoid showing what she was doing.

As she did her best to run, she wondered if he would catch her. She wondered if she could ever evade him. Though she doubted that she could, she still tried - she still attempted to be good prey.