They strode on under the deepening sky, wind picking up, odd scents drifting, breathing in the unfamiliar patterns of reiki. Alert to everything around them. Kurama lifted his head. Then suddenly he was four paws, hackles raised, tails bristling, body trembling. Hiei tore off his headband, freeing his jagan, but all he saw were whispers; the ghosts of phantoms, nothing substantial. Then Kurama was human again, shaking. “What was that!?” he gasped. What could force him into a shapechange with only a half-imaginary scent? Hiei watched him with wide eyes and restless hair that couldn’t decide if it would stand up in one point or two. But Kurama got to his feet and took a deep breath. They continued on. The shadow of the world fell upon them. The moon rose. A few scattered groves became a forest. Hiei concealed his jagan once more, but loosened his sword in its scabbard.
Far, far in the distance they heard the baying of hounds. Kurama gave a hybrid cry, clutching his chest, eyes black rimmed with pale green, fighting the change. But the sound drove like splinters into his blood, wrenching his body through the boiling of flesh, red in tooth and claw. The fox’s eyes flared golden, the lean body reared back; Youko snarled, crouching, ears flat against his skull. “Kurama!” Hiei held him to keep him from bolting. “Kurama, dammit, tell me what’s happening to you!” The kitsune thrashed, but the fire demon held him fast, no matter how many shapes he took. “Kurama, stop this…look at me!” Youko bared his teeth; his hair was half silver, half cardinal. He was shaking and shifting so badly the words came jumbled at first, hardly coherent, but Hiei pieced together something like an explanation. Araunt Hounds… Someone spoke a curse better left unsaid, someone woke the Hounds that should have been dead. The first Hounds, older than the Wild Hunt, le Chasse Gayere, with blood-red ears and silver-white coats and eyes the color of the sun. Kitsune-bane. All a fox can do is run. “When they catch me, Hiei, all that will be left are my bones; and when you touch them, they will still be warm…” “Enough!” the fire demon hissed. “They won’t catch you, Kurama. I won’t let them.” He had never seen Kurama Ryouko so completely terrified, on the edge of atavistic panic. “You have to calm down, tell me about these Hounds…” Kurama came up for a moment, his eyes shifting from green to gold and back. “You can’t hurt them with fire…” The baying came closer. Kurama screamed – a fox’s cry entirely now; he convulsed in human form once, then lost the battle. The Hounds belled, the fox ran.
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They strode on under the deepening sky, wind picking up, odd scents drifting, breathing in the unfamiliar patterns of reiki. Alert to everything around them.
Kurama lifted his head. Then suddenly he was four paws, hackles raised, tails bristling, body trembling. Hiei tore off his headband, freeing his jagan, but all he saw were whispers; the ghosts of phantoms, nothing substantial. Then Kurama was human again, shaking.
“What was that!?” he gasped. What could force him into a shapechange with only a half-imaginary scent?
Hiei watched him with wide eyes and restless hair that couldn’t decide if it would stand up in one point or two. But Kurama got to his feet and took a deep breath. They continued on.
The shadow of the world fell upon them. The moon rose. A few scattered groves became a forest. Hiei concealed his jagan once more, but loosened his sword in its scabbard.
Far, far in the distance they heard the baying of hounds.
Kurama gave a hybrid cry, clutching his chest, eyes black rimmed with pale green, fighting the change. But the sound drove like splinters into his blood, wrenching his body through the boiling of flesh, red in tooth and claw. The fox’s eyes flared golden, the lean body reared back; Youko snarled, crouching, ears flat against his skull.
“Kurama!” Hiei held him to keep him from bolting. “Kurama, dammit, tell me what’s happening to you!” The kitsune thrashed, but the fire demon held him fast, no matter how many shapes he took. “Kurama, stop this…look at me!” Youko bared his teeth; his hair was half silver, half cardinal. He was shaking and shifting so badly the words came jumbled at first, hardly coherent, but Hiei pieced together something like an explanation.
Araunt Hounds… Someone spoke a curse better left unsaid, someone woke the Hounds that should have been dead. The first Hounds, older than the Wild Hunt, le Chasse Gayere, with blood-red ears and silver-white coats and eyes the color of the sun. Kitsune-bane. All a fox can do is run. “When they catch me, Hiei, all that will be left are my bones; and when you touch them, they will still be warm…”
“Enough!” the fire demon hissed. “They won’t catch you, Kurama. I won’t let them.” He had never seen Kurama Ryouko so completely terrified, on the edge of atavistic panic. “You have to calm down, tell me about these Hounds…”
Kurama came up for a moment, his eyes shifting from green to gold and back. “You can’t hurt them with fire…”
The baying came closer. Kurama screamed – a fox’s cry entirely now; he convulsed in human form once, then lost the battle.
The Hounds belled, the fox ran.