"Do you ever go into a fight thinking 'There's no point giving my best, I'll get another chance later?' We only ever get one shot, Marlin. Life is one shot! Making it count is all that matters!" - Skold Greypelt, Lone Wolves - Graphic Novel, Dan Abnett & Karl Richardson

martes, 28 de octubre de 2014

[ENG] Hunter, part I

Well, time for more Fanfiction of the Space Wolves, this time is for Örnen Hawkeye a veteran and wolf scout legend of Erik Morkai's Company.

There will be 3 or 4 tales of about 500 and more words, so keep calm and continue reading...

Örnen Hawkeye
Part I

Cold air blow across the ruins of the city, small rocks cracked from the, once a time, formidable empire constructions. The ruins of the buildings maybe still impress some guardsmen or civilians but not an Astartes and of course, never a wolf.

The cold wind blows sharply but it was not sharply enough, even not cold enough. It was not 'cause he was an astartes, no; he was a child of the ice, a true son of the winter. For the fenrisian this was a derisory weather, just some snow for whitening the landscape.

He has been at the same place for about twenty hours, more or less, waiting for the rebellion leader and his convoy. The pack has been tracking them for half the day, watching over all the possible routes that they would take, the most predictable were discarded and only two options were left. Örnen trusted on his instincts and lead the pack to the ruined city; all of them were in position. 

The vox broke the silence and a rough voice was heard.

'+ Hawkeye, objective is on 3rd vehicle. +

He focused the scope of his sniper rifle, aiming to the third vehicle of the convoy. The first two vehicles were two Hydra Class Tanks; the third one was a Taurox. He breathed with calm, slowly; automatically put his finger on the trigger but this time, he didn't pull. 

The convoy were at enough distance for a clean shot but that was no the mission, they need to let all the convoy enter to the range of the Long Fangs and then when the first charge of Krak Missiles made impact, the scouts will start the hunt, snipers will shot the principal positions and the rest of the packs will slaughter all members of the convoy. The head of the rebel leader must be taken off.

The quite sound of the wind was interrupted, a white beast grunted at his side knowing that the prey was close; the instincts of the beast recognized the moment, the time for the hunt. It was a good opportunity for making a clean shot.

‘It’s not the time.’  He thought.

His hoarse voice went out, trying to be heard clearly by the beast at his side. 'Not now whitefang, we need to wait'. The white fenrisian wolf grunted again, showing his fangs, maybe understanding but always showing reclaim for not going to hunt at the moment.
He understood the anxiety of the beast, even feeling little anxiety too but he easily dissipated it, many years ago he tempered his inner beast, giving the step from being a Grey Hunter to become a Wolf Scout; even hunter sometimes feel anxious and tried to start the fight without the clarity that a Wolf Scout must have. 

‘It is not just hunting, we are silent, we’re fast and we’re intelligent; we need to move through enemy lines for obtaining information so we cannot start killing anytime we could like. If it’s needed, we need to do it silently.’

He remembered the wise words that Erik Morkai gave to himself the day that he was promoted to Wolf Scout.

'That was a good hunting...' said, talking to him and in just a few seconds, the memories returned to his head, like living that hunt again…

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