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WH40K Chooser of the Dying: pt4Slowly the other hunters and a very rattled Lars converged on the gigantic beast laying slumped on the rise.
“Throne boss, look at the size of it!” exclaimed Lars excitedly, having been on the other side of the branch he’d not seen a single thing of the worm, or of the final shots, but he’d heard everything and come close to breaking.
“What were those things?” demanded Izbor ignoring his crewman as he finally regained his ability to speak after such a close call. Vanik nodded understanding and grinned widely showing those sharp white teeth.
“A boreworm and that which preys upon it. It’s a sign we’re close to The Muel.”
“Things grow large around the Sky Trees.” Affirmed a smiling Jessik striding up to them sizing up the dead grox with an approving expression. “Father will be very pleased; it’s a good kill Mr. Volkov.”
“That it is.” Agreed Izbor placing a hand over his heart.
WH40K Chooser of the Dying: pt3Celebrations continued until long after the distant blue sun vanished behind the monolithic Sky Trees. Darkness like nothing Izbor had seen outside of the void closed in around the camp held back only by torches and the constant glare of search lights from the four sentinels constantly patrolling the circumference of the camp. Darkness however did not dampen the festivity, there were contests of strength and wits, young hunters vied to outshoot one another in displays of impressive marksmanship. Dancing continued and music was everywhere as well as food and drink, Izbor never saw a face that was not smiling or laughing and eventually even he felt himself relax as his opinion of the clansmen grew and grew.
Jessik, who as he came to learn was a sergeant in the PDF, something her father was vastly proud of, finally told her story in a rich strong voice. She and a dozen other troopers, all clansmen of Daruk or blood brothers from Mill City raided the neighboring clan taking furs, weapons,
WH40K Chooser of the Dying: pt2Stepping into the forest was like stepping into another world entirely. Light struggled to pierce the dense canopy overhead creating dancing shadows that were as dark and bottomless as pits, the temperature was cooler by several degrees but the air was closer, invasively so, bringing with it a hundred subtle sounds and smells that positively made the hair on the back of Izbors' neck stand on end.
“Nervous boss?” inquired Vyacheslav. Izbor felt an ugly flash of irritation and leveled a chilly stare at the young pilot before tromping off through the loamy forest after their guide who had proceeded ahead.
“What’d I say?” blustered a perplexed Vyacheslav.
“You ought to know better.” Muttered Lars under his breath.
“Both of you shut up, if either of you had the good sense the Emperor gave a stone you’d know there’s a thousand Throne forsaken things just out of sight waiting to eat you, if Izbor has the good sense to be nervous then
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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