Bat-Shit Crazy
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"Eugh, my chest, I can't breathe," Mikey muttered out, winded by the fall onto his front, "This is comfy though, what is this?"

Mikey pulled his hands back and forth through the thick fur, his eyes widening and hands slowing when he realised who's fur it was.

A low growl could be heard as Mikey lifted his head to see the black warg, Bat, glaring at him over his shoulder as he lay on his back.

"Shit, fuck, shit," Mikey repeated in a series of fearful cursing, talking faster and faster as Bat stood up onto all fours.

 

"What do we do? Buggro?!" Lazarus asked, holding his hand out and beginning to vibrate it once more. He was preparing to kill the black warg.

"Na, nothing to be done Mud cap'in! He' kill ya too. Mikey!" Buggro called out from the other side of the pit, cupping his hands to make sure he heard him. "Ya can't let 'em go nah! It's a challenge li'l cap'in!"

"A challenge?!" Mikey exclaimed, pulling tight onto Bat's fur.

The warg, standing tall over the corpses, faced away from Mikey. It crouched low in a stretch of its front legs before doing the same for its hind legs.

"'ere 'e goes!" Buggro shouted, fist-pumping the air in excitement. "Don't let 'em win li'l cap'in!"

“Well?! What you gonna do Bat?!” Mikey taunted from atop the warg’s back, pulling on his mane to provoke a reaction. Bat let off a sharp bark, snapping at the air, before suddenly taking off around the pit. Every step the warg took projected it faster and faster, indirectly herding Ribs and Mud into the centre of the pit to avoid him.

Mikey kept his grip, even tempted to use his mouth to bite down, but Bat's course began to change. Every so often the warg would bound off of the wall, however not to try and shake Mikey off, but rather to test its grip on the wall.

"Not good, not good! Hol' it li'l cap'in!" Buggro gasped, calling out to the circling warg, though his face turned to Lazarus. "Ge' ready, 'ey gonna be goners."

"Goners?" Lazarus asked.

As Lazarus looked to Mikey and the warg, Bat bounded up the wall but held his momentum. Sprinting up the face as though he was on the ground, he rapidly made his approach towards the edge.

Mikey had wrapped his legs around the warg’s waist and pushed his head firmly into Bat’s neck, the smell of the wet and corpse scented canine wafting into his nose. Mikey closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the putrid smell, but in moments it washed away.

 

When he reopened his eyes, a fresh breeze cleared his nose of the stench. Open air.

Still clinging to the back of Bat, Mikey opened his eyes to see that the two of them were running rampant through the Ironheadz camp. Tribesmen ducked and leapt out of the way, others knocked onto the ground or into their tents.

"Out of the way! Move! Move!" Mikey yelped from atop the beast, trying to clear the path through camp. "Where are you even going, you fucking mutt?!"

Bat barked viciously at everyone he passed by, though it was clear he knew exactly where he was headed. His eyes were locked on the inland gate to the East of the camp which was currently pinned open. A raiding party of Ironheadz horsemen made their entrance from the plains and Bat showed no signs of slowing down.

 

Back at the pit, Mud and Ribs had only barely managed to claw their way out, though they'd already fallen a few times.

"Where is he taking him? If he's so proud, he'd have just killed him right then and there!" Lazarus exclaimed, dismounting Mud once they'd reached solid ground above the pit.

Mud lay down beside him, still growling softly, but just quietly enough to get away with it.

"Off ta his masta's bury hole, out in the plains. Offa the l'il cap'in as food, does it wi' e'erythin'!" Buggro explained as he looked to the East, kicking Ribs to take off. "Gotta catch 'em! Come Mud cap'in!"

Lazarus went to pull himself back onto Mud, grabbing onto his mane, when he saw Adendé approaching from the other side of him.

 

"He's run off has he?" Adendé asked, his eyes trailing Ribs and Buggro as they took off.

"Well, not exactly no, that crazy-ass dog is taking him out of the camp. Buggro said he'll feed him to his dead owner or something," Lazarus answered, swinging his leg up to mount Mud once more.

"Leave him. He'll return."

"Leave him?! He's our captain, not dog food Adendé," Lazarus looked at him in shock, unsure of whether he was serious or not.

"Exactly my point. I'm here because he paid me. If I'm to stay, I would like to know why he's worth it," Adendé said over his shoulder as he headed towards a small fire pit, a pot of Boila bubbling over top of it. "Come, let's have dinner."

 

Whoosh!

 

Bat and Mikey went gliding over some of the horsemen after a leap off of the leading horse’s back, shoving it to the ground in the process.

“What is Bat doing out?!” one of the savages squealed, diving from their horse to get out of his way. Another tribesman, too slow to move, caught Bat and Mikey from their leap with his own body - Bat’s dewclaws digging into his chest.

Continuing forward, another horse in Bat’s way bucked her rider off in panic. The stallion sent him flying in Bat’s course.

Without a second thought, Bat’s jaws opened wide as he sprung into the air to catch the rider.

 

Crunch!

 

A splatter of blood flew back over Mikey, staining the side of his legs. After the crunching bite down on his catch, the warg tossed the body off into another horseman.

The death-dealing duo made one final leap over a horseman, barrelling him off his mount before they touched open grass.

Open fields were the only thing between them and the distant grave of Bat’s master.

 

With no sign of further leaping or bounding, Mikey let go with one of his hands and began to reach out.

‘I would use Onyx Grip to grab us, but we’re going too fast - that shit will HURT. Fuck! Anything else I do will just piss him off!’ Mikey thought to himself, grabbing onto the warg’s mane once more. ‘I’m not gonna kill you, I’m gonna tame you. I’ll do it. I tamed the Blackjack for fucksake!’

The two of them continued riding off into the plains, the sun beating down on their back.

 

"So, wait a second. You guys eat this? What'd you call it again?" Lazarus asked, looking down into the pot over the fire. A tangy bubble forced its way up his throat, releasing into an acidic sting in his mouth. "Boila," Adendé replied, mixing the contents with an iron ladel.

The stew inside, a brownish green in colour, swirled in a sloppy whirlpool of strange meats. It had fingers, teeth, green slabs, red slabs and even a strange goo gelatinised on the brim of the pot.

Adendé scooped out a small skull sitting amidst the grotesque liquid, - still holding parts of the skin and hair on its scalp. He dropped it right into a bowl and handed it to Lazarus.

Taking the bowl with heavy arms, Lazarus dry retched as he moved to a log to sit with his meal. Shortly after, Adendé joined him.

Mud, laying down behind Lazarus, snored softly as the two men began to converse.

 

"What you said earlier, about Mikey, why do you need more convincing? I mean, the dude basically has a potential higher than the sky - especially with how he handles magic," Lazarus questioned, trying to keep his mouth busy talking and his eyes away from the bowl of Boila.

"How he CAN handle magic. He's stubborn, erratic and reckless. There's a high chance he'll return tomorrow with one leg missing," Adendé replied, gripping his mask and unhooking it - something Lazarus had never seen before.

"Uuuuuh, uh huh," he pathetically replied, losing interest in his words as he saw Adendé begin to unmask.

However, Adendé only revealed yet another mask underneath the bronze one. It was a black sleeve that pulled around his face, covering all but his darkened lips.

Lazarus lip trilled in response, disappointed by the lack of detail shown, though it quickly turned to disgust when he saw Adendé swallow a spoon full of the Boila.

"Wait, wait, wait. Tomorrow?" Lazarus frowned. "Why so long?"

"Because he'll end up killing the warg. He's got no skill for finesse," Adendé replied.

"But Buggro went off to help him, didn't he?" he asked, taking his bowl by the lip and discreetly sliding it onto the ground behind him - allowing Mud to lick up the contents.

"Buggro and his warg will most likely die before the sun rises. The plains at night are a hunting ground," Adendé continued to elaborate, slurping another spoonful of the stew. "Plainsreapers they call them. They'll be feasting tonight."

 

As the sun fell upon the bleached grasses of Jorgansol, Mikey's grip on the warg had loosened. Despite his perseverance, hours had passed as he rode atop the warg which showed no signs of stopping.

"When are you gonna give up? Sleep? Rest? You know you're mine when you do, right?" Mikey asked in a tired tone, his eyes already half closed as he began to weaken. "Because I… I'll never sleep. Neve…"

Mikey's voice faded with his grip, leaving him hanging over the back of Bat like clothes to dry. His stomach grumbled, longing for sustenance which Mikey hoped to find in his dreams.

 

Bark bark bark!

 

Mikey's eyes shot open, the series of barks jolting him awake. His fingers dug into the fur of Bat, who was growling, but didn't seem to have slowed down at all.

The plains, lit under the starlight, had shifted from yellow to a bluer tone that mixed with the shadows.

Silhouettes weaved through the grass around Mikey and Bat, using the ocean of darkness to hide from sight.

"What the fuck?!" Mikey lifted his hands for a moment, projecting a small ball of fire from his fingertips. The orb shifted behind Mikey, trailing after him to slowly light up the immediate area.

Summoning a couple dozen more of the little flaming balls, soon the area around Mikey and Bat was well lit. However, in the darkness of the tall grasses, the flames cast long shadows that served to further camouflage the unseen hunters around them.

Sending the small fireballs floating off to his right, the grass slowly began to reveal the details it was hiding.

As the details formed, a mouth suddenly snapped at the fireball and smothered it in saliva, forcing Mikey to extend the chain even further out.

The unknown creature took off further into the grasses, clearing distance between itself and the fire.

"Yeah? Alright, you stupid shits! Fucking up my day! How about you hide from this?!" Mikey said as he quickly, but carefully, moved his hands from the wargs mane to his own neck.

"Time to light all you motherfuckers up!"

 

The blinding light rushed through Mikey's veins, suddenly illuminating the plains around them like an omnidirectional lighthouse. Mikey looked to his right, searching for the creature in the grass, but couldn't see it.

But as he turned his head to the left, a chill rolled down his spine.

"Damn you're ugly!" Mikey squawked with a flinch.

Sprinting beside him, at about the height of a large goat, was another canine-like creature - however, it was warped and disfigured.

The creature had no eyes, but nostrils that ran the entire length of its snout. Armoured in a thick hide of bone, the armour ran right up and over its head. Its lips receded back over its teeth, baring its twisted gnashers.

Its chest was strangely hollow, ribs protruding around an empty cavity like a small prison for a rat.

Every part of the creature seemed to be afflicted by the same rot, its flesh exposed and skin peeling back - almost like a sunbaked dead body.

The creature was soon joined by others, dozens accumulating on either side of Bat and Mikey.

"Well Bat, you're a crazy mutt, but I like my chances with you a whole lot better than them."

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