“We good to talk while we walk? Or are we keeping silent?” he asked.

“We may talk for a little while more,” Yaro said, eyes watching the trees around them. “We are unlikely to encounter any prey until we are deeper into the forest itself.”

Jason thought about relaxing his gait, but decided against it. It had been a long time since he’d done hunting of any sort, and he needed to reawaken that muscle memory.

Enjoying the slightly muffled sound of snow crunching underfoot, he couldn’t help but notice just how quiet Yaro’s own steps were by comparison. Sure, she wasn’t wearing boots like him - instead going barefoot - but even then her massive size should have cancelled that advantage out. Yet, if he wasn’t looking directly at her, it was like she wasn’t there at all. At least as far as his other senses were concerned.

To be honest, it was a bit eerie. He’d gotten so used to his relative reaction time and stamina advantage over the Shil’vati, it was kind of humbling to remember that the other races had tricks up their own sleeves.

Not that Yaro had sleeves, given that she was wearing a tanktop and lycra-esque shorts, but the sentiment held true.

“Earlier,” he said slowly, turning his gaze toward the tree line, in spite of the fact that his every instinct told him not to take his eyes off the giant predator walking next to him, “you seemed surprised that I needed a weapon.”

A sudden crunch sounded out next to him.

...Had Yaro just missed a step?

“A small misunderstanding as a result of an idle flight of fancy,” the woman said hurriedly, her usually cultured tone sounding almost embarrassed, her perfect Shil’vati allowing just a hint of what he presumed was her native accent to push through.

Hell, he would describe that brief hint as almost Russian sounding. Hardly a perfect comparison, given they were speaking in an entirely different language, but that was what his mind immediately leapt to.

“Flight of fancy?” he prompted.

“I had heard… tales, of human hunting methods,” the woman said, almost sheepishly.

Jason cocked his head, turning to look at her. “Tales? All the way out here?”

The woman continued to walk, her posture gaining more confidence after her small stumble. “It’s not so surprising. Humanity is something of a curiosity to many parts of the galaxy.”

“Due to the gender dynamic?” Jason said, almost sighing.

“Essentially correct,” the Rakiri said. “As you’ve no doubt figured out, a species like yours is something of a rarity amongst the stars.”

“Lucky us,” Jason said, his sarcasm holding just a hint of honesty.

After all, while things had hardly been honey and peaches for him since Earth had come into contact with the greater universe, he couldn’t deny that he’d certainly reaped a number of benefits as a result of said situation. He wasn’t so jaded that he couldn’t appreciate that.

“Yes, I suppose,” Yaro said, the sarcasm either flying over her head or her choosing not to acknowledge it. “While I held little interest in such things, given the relative distances between our locales, I do admit that my curiosity was piqued when we were informed a male of your kind would be joining our pack.”

Once again, a hint of sheepishness entered the woman’s tone, and he noticed that she was very determinedly staring off into the trees.

“In my research, I may have become somewhat enamored with human hunting methods,” she admitted finally.

Jason didn’t need to ask for clarification on which. It was the same thing all the aliens seemed obsessed with. Never mind the fact that humans had invented spears, slings, bows and eventually guns to simplify the process; all the extraterrestrials he’d met seemed to think they still hunted in the same way as their earliest ancestors on the plains of Africa.

“Pursuit hunting,” he deadpanned.

If the alien was capable of flushing, he was pretty sure she would be right now.

“Quite,” she mumbled. “I had, well, imagined it would be quite a thing to see. A hunter literally chasing his prey until it died from exhaustion.”

Was it just him, or was there a bit of a sheen to her eyes as she glanced his way?

“Well, it would be quite the statement,” she finished finally, staring at him with an unsettling intensity.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well I’ll stick to the gun if it’s all the same to you.”

Chasing an unknown animal through the snow in an unknown forest on an unknown world, miles from civilization? Yeah, he could think of simpler ways to kill himself.

“That is your choice,” the Rakiri didn’t quite sigh, whatever fugue had come over her gone just as quick as it had arrived.

“What about you?” he prompted, not quite feeling defensive about his entirely logical decision to use a gun over chasing his prey down like some of mad savage engaging in a veritable dick waving contest. “You’ve got a gun.”

“Entirely for self-defense,” Yaro said simply, tapping the barrel of the weapon. “Rakiri prefer to hunt with our claws.”

Jason glanced at said claws as they unsheathed like a cat’s, and he found he could well imagine them making mincemeat of whatever the Rakiri got them into.

Kind of scary, but also kind of cool, he thought.

“Self-defense?” Jason prompted, his mind turning to the more far more prominent question.

The Rakiri shook her head. “As I said, there’s nothing in this forest to fear. The reason I brought them is… I believe the Shil’vati have a saying about… how it is better to have birth control and not need it, than not have it and need it?”

Jason glanced at the alien. “Interesting saying.”

“I thought so.”

The cultured wolf woman seemed entirely unaffected by what she’d just said. From her expression, she might as well have been talking about the weather. Which surprised him, given how embarrassed she seemed about her interest in human hunting methods earlier.

Again, he had to put it down to a difference in cultures.

“I believe we are deep enough now,” the Rakiri said, coming to a sudden stop.

Jason glanced around and confirmed that, yes, they were pretty deep now. In fact, he was pretty sure that the only way he’d be able to figure out the way back to the road now would be by following their tracks back.

“Great so what do we… and you’re gone.”

Sure enough, the Rakiri had disappeared as swift and silent as the wind.

“I guess that means we’re hunting separately?” he called out.

No one answered.

“Alright, but if you sneak up on me, I can’t promise you won’t get a slug through the lung.”

Again, his only answer was the eerie silence of the forest.

“Fuckin’ aliens,” he sighed to himself as he unslung his gun. “Ain’t nothing that big should be that fast or quiet.”

Whatever, he thought to himself. He needed to start looking for animal tracks, or failing that, a decent vantage point.

---------------

“We have a problem.”

Jason nearly jumped a solid foot in the air.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, turning to find Yaro standing directly behind him. “I could have shot you!”

“I trusted that you wouldn’t,” the woman said. “I was also close enough to arrest the barrel should it twist in my direction.”

He was tempted to point out that she could have avoided having to bother by just announcing her presence like a normal person. Which was when he noticed just a hint of a smirk on the Rakiri’s face.

“You’re messing with me,” he accused.

“Not at all,” the woman denied. “I sometimes forget that soft-ears do not have as keen a hearing as my own kin. By my people’s standards, I announced my presence quite loudly.”

Jason might have believed that were it not for the way the woman’s lips kept tilting upwards, or the way her tail was swishing side to side behind her.

“What did you want?” he asked tiredly, before glancing at his wrist-com. “It’s barely been an hour.”

He’d actually been enjoying himself. He’d found some animal droppings, footprints and upturned plants in the area. He’d also found a good spot to overlook what he was pretty sure was a gathering ground for the creatures. The small marsupials Yaro had mentioned, whose name he couldn’t remember for the life of him.

At his words, all levity left the large alien’s expression. “I believe we may have to leave.”

“Why?” he frowned.

“I believe we are being tracked by a Guntra.”

The word meant nothing to him. He could guess that it was bad news by context though.

“You said there was nothing but rodents and birds in the area,” he said, casting a wary eye toward the forest around him.”

The alien shook her head. “That should be the case. Guntra nest further south and should normally be hibernating at this time of year.”

Jason sighed. “But something woke this one up?”

“I believe so, from the brief hint of its scent that I caught, I believe this one is injured and suffering an infection.”

So it had been prematurely woken from hibernation, was injured, and likely running a fever? Jason couldn’t really imagine a situation that would make an animal more dangerous.

Maybe pumping it full of cocaine?

He didn’t bother asking if Yaro was sure. From what little time he’d spent with the woman, she didn’t seem the sort to indulge in idle fancy. At least, idle fancy on subjects other than human hunting methods.

While his first instinct was to start moving back to the car, he knew better. If the animals was already tracking them ‘retreating’ like that could prompt an attack. Sure, so could standing still, but at least here in this little clearing he had a good view in all directions. No, he’d be better served getting a bit more information on what they were dealing with before they did anything.

“So, what exactly are we talking about here?” he asked. “I assume it’s pretty bad if you want to retreat rather than tangle with it.”

Yaro seemed relieved that he wasn’t panicking, which was a little annoying, but then again, he supposed that not everyone would react calmly to finding out a predator was stalking them. Though in his opinion, anyone reacting that way really shouldn’t be out hunting to begin with.

“Guntra were the region’s apex-predators before Rakiri colonists arrived here,” Yaro said. “Given that it’s only been eighty years since that happened, most still haven’t learned to avoid us. In fact, they will actively hunt Rakiri if they encounter them. Just as they will anything else.”

Behavior wise, we’re essentially dealing with a polar bear then, he thought.

Jason sighed, that changed things. Something smaller he might have been willing to leave alone. Something like this though?

“If it’s injured, and as dangerous to people as you say, we’re kind of obligated to put it down,” he muttered.

He didn’t agree with his dad on much, but the old bastard had been strangely… decent about things like this. Hell, he could remember the pair of them tracking a buck for a better part of two days, through rain and storm, because Jason’s shot had managed to injure it but not bring it down.

Sure this was slightly different. They’d tracked the buck then because he’d been the one to injure it. But if they’d been in the area with a bear in similar straits as this ‘Guntra’, he knew the old man would have gone after it too.

With proper precautions and a large hunting posse, of course.

Noble was only noble so long as you didn’t get yourself injured or killed in the process. Success was the line between nobility and just being stupid while making more work for others.

In this case though, he had a small railgun and what was essentially the Predator with him. He figured that was at least the equal to a party of half-drunk yokels with rifles.

He glanced over at Yaro to get her opinion, and noted that she looked surprised, her green eyes wide open and staring at him.

“What?”

The alien looked away, smoothing over her expression.

“Nothing.”

Jason didn’t have the energy to work out what that was about. Instead, he was keeping one eye on the treeline even as he occasionally glanced at Yaro.

“So what’s a Guntra like?” he asked. “Bear? Wolf? Cougar?”

It was only as he asked that he realized that the Rakiri likely had no idea what he was referring to, unless her wiki dive on human hunting methods happened to cover them.

Alas, it seemed she hadn’t, as the alien cocked her head to the side. “I must confess, I am not familiar with the creatures you are referring to.” She perked up slightly, as if an idea had just occurred to her. “But I have heard a Shil’vati in the dorms liken it to a Grinshaw!”

Jason shook his head. “Never seen one.”

Yaro sighed, something that sounded like a low growl. “Unfortunate.”

Time seemed to pass as the alien thought on ways to describe the animal.

“…I,” she began with some reluctance, “have heard some say amongst the crew say that there is a base resemblance to a Rakiri. Only if we were much larger... and walked on all fours like our species’ early ancestors.”

She sounded frustrated by the comparison, which Jason could well understand. He wouldn’t have appreciated being compared to a monkey or an ape either. Most of his attention was taken up by the fact that they were apparently being stalked by a cat-wolf-werebear from hell though.

He spent just a moment wondering, could he still back down on his promise to hunt the beast down?

----

In the end they decided to wait in place for the animal to show itself. In different circumstances they might have had to track it down, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse where the position of ‘cat’ was relative. Of course, in different circumstances, the animal wouldn’t have been both injured and starving, giving rise to impulsive behavior, in which case they wouldn’t have had to go through the effort of putting it down.

No, given the situation, it was all but guaranteed that the creature would come to them in time.

“Smell anything?” he asked as he kept a wary eye on the tree line.

“Yes,” Yaro said. “Unfortunately, I cannot pinpoint its location. The guntra’s scent is coming from all around.” She cocked her head. “I do believe it is circling us from just beyond our sight.”

Fun, Jason thought as he stared into a forest that suddenly seemed a lot more dense and foreboding that it had just mere seconds ago.

Though, truth be told, he wasn’t particularly worried. Certainly, the situation wasn’t ideal, but at the end of the day, they were up against an animal. One that was coming toward their own pre-prepared position. While the situation wasn’t without the possibility of danger, it was about as low as you could realistically get.

Of course, that was when fate chose to take a big old dump on his optimistic musings as a loud crack rang out from above them.

Jason glanced up.

…and found himself staring into a drooling maw. One filled with far too many teeth, by any standard, just beneath four black beady eyes that glinted with hunger.

Oh, he thought with startling clarity. It can climb.

Then the werebear from hell dropped from it’s perch in the canopy above, having used the peculiar tree’s absurdly long branches to get as close as possible.