Griever: Lion's FangsMature

Griever ran through the woods, his fist gripping the knife in his hands. How many time had he seen Jem use it on something? No, he had to focus. Anger bubbled through his very being, but he still had to keep a calm mind. It was a rule of the battlefield; lose your head, then your life. He needed to focus. For Jem's sake!

Though, he couldn't stop thoughts of slaughtering every fae he saw. Just a few months prior he didn't believe in the damned creatures, now they were his enemy! Curse the luck. Jem had better be safe, or else he didn't think he could stop himself from finding another portal and slaughtering them all. 

A thought crossed Griever's mind as he tracked the creature's movements. When had he grown to care for Jem this much? Well, she was a comrade, so it was natural, right? Yeah, just a good comrade... 

A sense of danger pulled Griever away from his thoughts. He stopped just short of a clearing and pulled Eternal Lion. They were somewhere out there. He knew it. Those damnable scum. There!

Several of the Fae walked in the shadows of the forest, each taking forms of large cats and woodland creatures. There was even a few boars, though they all looked... wrong. Like a cow that had been struck with madness. 

"Come out, you bloody cowards!" Griever yelled, not caring how stupid it was to give away his location, "I'll kill you all and take back Jem!"

At first, nothing happened. Griever growled and started to move into the clearing. Surely he could deal with a dozen of these misbegotten sons of rats. Then, he heard voices. Normally, he would have ignored them and attacked, but... 

"The girl?" a voice said in nearly a whisper, "We can take you to her..."

Another chimed in, this one a higher pitch, "Just leave that cursed blade..." 

"Leave it..."

"We will take you only then..."

"Throw it away..."

"Break it..."

At one time, Griever would have betrayed anyone to keep his sword. His master had been a true friend to him. Had even helped raised him... But now Griever simply jammed the blade into the ground and left it. He kept Jem's knife and pulled his dagger from his belt. 

"Take me to her!" Griever yelled, walking out into the clearing. 

As if on cue, the beasts jumped behind him and he was surrounded. Damnation!

"You fool!" a leopard hissed from behind, "Now you die."

"Rule one of being a mercenary," Griever said through clenched teeth, "Use everything available to you." 

Griever whipped around as the leopard leaped and stabbed Jem's blade into it's throat.  A choking sound escaped it and it fell in a heap. More fae appeared in a flash, then Griever stopped thinking. Instead, he used the two blades in his hands and the instincts born from years on the battlefield to weave a trail of blood and death through the oncoming fae. 

They fell one after another, giving Griever's boiling anger some satisfaction, but not enough. It seemed like eternity before they fell back, but in reality Griever knew it had only been a minute at most. Battles rarely were long like duels. And only his sense of self preservation kept Griever from chasing after the fae once they withdrew.

"Had enough, you damn beasts?" Griever shouted. He wanted to kill more of them. Not enough blood had been spilled. A quick glance at Jem's knife told him she would be mad. He might have chuckled at the thought if he was not in his current scenario. 

"Fine..." one of the fae - a bloody boar - said faintly. "Come, and leave the knives..."


The fae said nothing for a moment, almost as if it were thinking, before finally speaking again. "Very well... but they will be useless, soon enough."

Griever grunted. Useless? No, he would gut every fae that touched Jem with these 'useless' blades. The Beasts knew that to be true. He may have left his claw behind, but his fangs were just as deadly.

The End

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