"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, 30 de diciembre de 2014

[ENG] Hunter, part IV

The soldiers at the convoy get out of the vehicles, trying to establish a security perimeter but when almost all were outside the vehicles, the wolves arrived.

The first one didn’t notice the exactly moment when his torso was severed, he didn’t have the enough time for it.

‘For Russ and the Allfather!’ shouted. The battle cry of the wolves emerged from the walls and the near buildings.

Many of the guardsmen tried to put in some defensive positions but the wolves were too fast, they even can’t reach the positions or unholster their laspistols. It seemed that the wolves were killing even with his sights.

+Focus on the traitors that are trying to run+, voxed Örnen. +No survivors+.

One guardsman tried to run to the way they came in first place but a clean shot exploded his head. Another one tried to hide in some buildings but three shots in his torso killed him instantly.

Grey Hunters were butchering the enemies and the wolf scouts were killing all the guardsmen that were trying to run, hide or scape. Certainly there will be no survivors that day.

So certainly there were only rumors and no true about the sorcery, thought Örnen. But then, the Taurox exploded. Blue flames involved the Taurox and some death bodies started to twist in strange forms.

Örnen run to get a better position, he couldn’t see if the Adholr Adamek was still inside the Taurox, he needed just a few seconds, he needed to kill the rebel leader before the ritual was complete.

It was not supposed to be a problem if he was a sorcerer, his magic couldn’t be so powerful and even with some casualties they could manage him and kill him but it was work of the scout team to minimize the casualties, to offer the better way to resolve the battle.

They were the ear, the nose, the eyes in advance; the first hunter at the field.

He run down to another place with extreme agility, more than twenty hours down the snow were nothing for an astartes, and less for a Sky Warrior.

He looked across the sight, pointing to the broken door roof of the Taurox and there was Adholr Adamk, involved in blue and green flames. The flames were covering him as a protection shield but still shaking and trembling like normal fire.

‘There must be a single hole’, said very lowly and slowly.

After just a few seconds a gnarl showed one of his fangs, his know that his prey was doomed, he know that everything will end with a single shot. He pressed slowly the trigger of his sniper rifle, waiting just the exactly moment to pull it completely.

He really liked the feeling, the moment previous the final shot. His inner beast opened the jaws, showing the big fangs; his eyes looked more deeply, he smelled with more intensity, he heard even the sound of the falling snow.

He was made to kill.

But above all, he was made to hunt.

Hunting was his true way of war, hunting like the silent and strong blackmane, stalking from the shadows only waiting for the moment to close the jaws and letting his fangs to tear up the prey’s skin. 

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