Don woke in a cramped space that smelled of old wood rotting into new earth. His face was pressed against the ground and his neck was stiff from being bent sharply to the right for who knows how long. Don struggled to orient himself but there was barely enough room. He finally got into a position where he could straighten out his neck but it stubbornly remained kinked. A jagged gash to his side let in a lot of light and Don could see he was in a small, mostly cylindrical space. Just outside, a tangle of thorny stems formed a loose screen between him and the jungle.

The trees still provided plenty of shade and the thorns further filtered out the light but it was the brightest space Don could ever remember being in. The Jungle was fully awake now and was filled with alien noises. He remembered that meant he was safe, then he remembered the rest of the previous night.

Don dry heaved, straining his already abused neck. He hadn't killed, but he had committed an atrocity he had never even considered before. Don had eaten a living creature. The barbarism of the act churned his stomach and chilled his heart. He knew the ColoColo were monsters, but he never thought they could stoop to such lows. They had an entire jungle filled with plant life, and yet they still chose to kill.

The image of the helpless little fluffball, with its tall floppy ears and twitching button nose flashed across Don's memory. Its eyes were the worst though. Don was sure he could see fear behind them. Don tried his best not to think about his feeding frenzy but his stomach grumbled and his mind rebelliously wandered back to that morning.

He had thrown aside the feathered monsters in his need to get to the food. He didn't have the presence of mind to wonder about the source. Food was food, or so he thought. He vividly remembered the grease running down his chin before realizing that he was drooling in the present. Don bit down on his tongue and the memory was replaced by pain. He felt like he should be punished. He deserved terrible things for what he had done. His stomach growled again.

"No" he growled back and punched it.

It wasn't until a few seconds later that he realized how foolish he was being. Starving himself wouldn't undo what he had done, but don was in no mood to eat either. He didn't dare open his inventory in case he was tempted by all the nuts in there from the night before. He had to master himself. Don got into as close to a cross-legged position as he could and began to meditate.

Time and time again, his guilt dragged him out of his trance but eventually, peace asserted itself. Don listened to his breathing. Letting each inhale fill his sore, tense muscles, and letting each exhale pull some of that tension out of his body and into the air. The sounds of the jungle eventually faded into a background shushing of leaves brushing each other and animals droning on about Don's safety. At some point, a screen distracted him, shining straight into his closed eyes, ignoring his eyelids.

WIS: 13 --> 14

Don angrily altered his settings so he wouldn't be disturbed and sank back into his trance. His troubled thoughts smoothed like the surface of a pond. His subconscious benefitting from the resulting clarity while his waking mind continued to remain exclusively aware of his breathing. Don didn't know how long this state lasted and without any pressing duties, he was content to drift in peace. Then something changed.

The creatures outside Don's hiding space fell silent. It took Don a few seconds to understand why his trance was broken but when he did, fear gripped his heart. He was effectively trapped. The apes could surely sniff him out if they got close but leaving would only result in Don getting lost in the trees. Kat might have a very hard time tracking him down even if he survived until nighttime. All he could do was remain perfectly still and strain his ears into the quiet.

Branches creaked and leaves tickled at his ears with their soft whispering. Then something heavy fell to the ground. The first distant something was joined by others. Bushes were trampled under the approaching footfalls, the crackling of small dead branches growing ever closer.

This was a very different sound from the apes but Don took a cue from the local creatures and stayed still and silent. The tromping feet grew closer and Don eventually made out voices over the thrashing they were giving any plants that stood in their way. A gruff voice was the first one he could make out.

"-and ---- freaking hot ---- man-eating bugs and ---- all for what? Some heretic? ---- him rot out here ---- deserves"

Someone considerably more feminine answered him.

"Quit your whining Gregory ---- orders, ---- have to ---- and if you don't like it -- can tell the Arbiter yourself"

"I never said I was going to disobey orders Sonja" the first man protested "I'm just pointing out that living in this jungle is already a worse punishment than we can provide. If that Shepard wants to stay out here, let him."

"That isn't your decision to make. I don't want to hear another word from you unless it's 'there he is', understood"

The first man grumbled something back and the tromping came to an abrupt stop. They were uncomfortably close by now.

"Care to repeat that?" Sonja asked with surprising menace

"I said I'm not about to take orders from a rusting Farmer, you should know your place!"

There was a loud clang and a grunt.

"I do know my place, it is below yours now, centurion. You are to follow my directives when we are away from the camp. If you do not, I'm sure we could use a few more latrines." She over annunciated every word. Clearly, there was some history of insubordination between the two.

Don edged forward, his curiosity overcoming his fear. Just a dozen meters away, Don saw four figures in a gap between the trees. They wore crude, brown vests with bulky shoulders. Matching strips of material fell vertically from their waists, forming a kind of skirt. Similar boots rose high up their calves, almost to their knees. Their skin was red and irritated. One of them was wearing a brown hat that covered her entire head, only leaving her face exposed. She loomed over a man who was being helped up by a pair of his fellows.

They looked oddly familiar and completely alien at the same time. Don might have tried to make contact if they weren't all carrying spears. The only exception was Sonja. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips as she glared at the insubordinate man, a large round disk of metal strapped to her left arm.

"Geez, Sonja," said one of the centurions helping up the fallen man who was clutching his face, "You didn't have to go that far."

Sonja straightened her back.

"Apparently I did. I don't care who you were before we came here. We aren't those people anymore. If you are having trouble getting that fact into your thick skulls I'm more than happy to pound the lesson into place."

A rustling in the underbrush took the groups attention away from the altercation. A reddish streak leapt at the injured man.

"Hap!" Sonja shouted. The streak abruptly changed direction and charged right at the woman. She brought her shield around and smashed it right into the incoming creature. Don heard a yelp as a spear lanced out from behind a tree and impaled the stunned animal. The two who were helping up their friend dropped him to lend their spears to the attack.

"Alright! level up!" said the smiling owner of the first spear as he stepped into view from behind a tree. His spear now had a grisly ornament at the end. The fox disappeared when he touched it, leaving only a bloody streak in its place.

How many are there? Don wondered

"Well done Howard," said Sonja, nodding in approval before turning back to Gregory. "That could have been you if you were more focused on your orders than your own self-importance. Now let's get moving. There's only one heretic out here and if we want to find it before Hendrix's group, we're going to have to cover more ground. That means shut your mouth and open your eyes, Gregory."

"You could at least heal me" Gregory protested, finally climbing to his feet. His hands fell away from his face and Don saw the crooked, bleeding nose he was hiding.

Sonja crooked an eyebrow. "With how nicely you asked, how could I refuse?" She turned her back on him "Formation!" she shouted. The other spearmen fell into a wedge shape behind her and Gregory followed suit a moment later. His grumbling was completely ignored.

What Don couldn't ignore, was the fact that the wedge was pointing almost directly at his hiding place. These cold-blooded killers were clearly looking for him for some reason. Don remembered his first conversation with Cel. It felt like months had passed but it hadn't even been a week. Apparently, she wasn't lying about his criminal status. It was unfortunate that Gregory's argument didn't get more traction with the group.

Don watched in mounting terror as they approached his hiding spot. They seemed to creep forward in slow motion. He squeezed back as far from the well-lit entrance as he could. Then he squeezed his eyes shut too. The tromping seemed to pass right outside his hiding place and blessedly kept moving along. Don didn't move, he didn't breathe, he didn't even open his eyes. Something he was doing was working and so he held perfectly still while listening to the search party continue through the jungle.

That's why he heard something much, much worse. The branches overhead creaked constantly, a small protest against the wind. Now, a not so distant branch groaned. It was a complaint Don had only heard when he was climbing trees. Another, closer branch groaned.

Don was sure now, something large was moving through the trees towards him. He only knew of one creature capable of traveling like that.

He was about to bolt from his hiding spot when the tramping feet stopped.

"What in the void is that?" Gregory screamed

There was a heavy set of thuds and a roar in response that set Don's teeth chattering. He clenched them together in order to keep the noise from betraying his position.

"No one ever said anything about this!" Gregory shouted again and Don heard frantic running back towards his hiding spot. The coward was going to lead the ape straight to him!

"Gregory! Get back in formation!" Sonja called, but it was too late. Gregory was fleeing for his life and the monster bellowed, sensing weakness. It charged towards Don's spot making familiar horrifying noises all the while. Don heard a splintering, tearing sound just before Gregory came back into view. Don couldn't tear his eyes away as part of a tree came sailing through the air and struck him in the back.

Gregory fell forward, getting tangled in a nearby thorny bush. His spear was nowhere to be seen. He must have dropped it in his panic. A moment later, the ape swung into view. It reached forward with its freakishly long arms, planted his knuckles on the ground, and heaved it's massive body forward in a ponderous, loping gait that covered an incredible amount of ground with each step.

Its stout legs were fairly short, especially in comparison to its arms. The beast was covered in shaggy blue fur except for its face which was a deep shade of red. Yellowed tusks jutted upwards from its jaw, one catching its upper lip and lifting it into an approximation of a sneer. Don watched in horrified fascination as it raised its leathery hands high overhead. They seemed to pause there before coming crashing down on Gregory.

His screaming sharply rose in pitch as he spotted the giant fists. They crashed into the man with incredible force. Dead leaves, sticks and other detritus blasted away from the impact point along with copious amounts of blood. When it raised its fists, there was a muddy crater where the man's chest had once been.

The once beautiful scene outside of Don's hiding place was now a charnel house. Bits of Gregory were scattered and draped over the surrounding bushes. In moments, however, those bits transformed into specks of golden light and scattered to the wind, just like Cel had. The forest was still painted a deep red and the beast itself was soggy with the stuff.

It bellowed triumphantly. Don did not expect to hear a roar in response. Sonja surprised him by charging into the mess at the head of three frightened spearmen. The beast swung one of its pendulous arms at the group in a vicious backhand.

"Down!" Sonja ordered and the spearmen crouched. She planted her feet and shouted again.

"[Slick]" she screamed. A silver sheen covered her shield and she was able to deflect the heavy fist over their heads. Her feet slid back a bit, gouging furrows in the bloody ground and exposing the bare dirt beneath, but she didn't lose her balance. The ape, on the other hand, didn't expect his blow to be parried so deftly and it took a couple of seconds for it to recover. The spearmen didn't give it the chance.

"[Flurry]" they shouted in unison. Each of their spears blurred as they shot past Sonja and a moment later, the beast was spurting blood out of 9 separate wounds on it's chest. It screamed in pain and rage and raised its fists high into the air again.

"Split!" Sonja shouted and the spearmen responded instantly. They leapt aside and continued moving, partially surrounding the ape. It tried to shift its blow to hit the two spearmen darting to it's right.

"Hap!" Sonja shouted. The ape turned back to face her, losing its positioning and much of its strength. This time Sonja hopped back, out of range instead of blocking. The fists thudded to the ground and cleared a patch of earth, leaving a new dusty crater, cleared of blood. The spearmen each thrust their spears forward again. They only struck once each this time but the monster was reconsidering the threat they posed. It reached up into the trees and pulled itself easily into the branches. The spearmen attempted to get in another poke each but they were clearly not as practiced thrusting up into the air and the hafts of their spears got tangled in the undergrowth.

Once it was up among the boughs, it tore one free and tossed it at them. The spearman it targeted was able to dodge the projectile. The ape gave one last hate-filled roar before using its long arms to swing to the next tree, then the next. In seconds, it was gone, like a bad dream.

The group of fighters was breathing heavily. One collapsed to his knees where Gregory had been.

"What did we do to deserve this?" he whispered.

Sonja stepped up to the man and rested a hand on his shoulder. The man looked up with tears streaking down his face.

"We didn't do anything Howard," She growled, "that rusting Shepard is to blame."

Her fists were clenched to the point that they had turned a stark white. She looked at the other two spearmen who were clutching their weapons and looking into the trees, terror painted on their faces. Then she looked down at the muddy crater that used to be a member of her squad. Her fists unclenched and the redness rushed back into them.

"We should return and report this. The Arbiter wanted to know at once if a monster intelligent enough to run away when in danger was spotted."

Howard didn't respond but let Sonja pull him back to his feet. The group trudged back the way they came, leaving bloody footprints in their wake.