Hunters
Author: Clarity
Disclaimer: Joss. Is. GOD. I just try to interpret his works.
Summary: What would have happened in the episode 'The Pack' if Buffy hadn't caught up with the hyenas when she did?
Rating: PG-13 for now; possibly R/NC-17 later
Spoilers: 'The Pack' (duh), as well as most of Buffy S1
Author's Notes: I was really looking forward to seeing 'The Pack'. Dark, dangerous Xander, what's not to love? And I've always had a soft spot for hyenas. Okay, so the episode itself wasn't overly great, but I liked the concept. So I did it myself.
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HUNGRY
The hyena led his pack down the street, nose to the cool night wind, searching. Sniffing
out prey less well-guarded than the little mouse-cub girl. NOT that the pack wouldn’t kill
her, and the solitary lioness with her, if they met--but for now his pack were tired, needed
food, sleep. They would not search out that she-lion bitch tonight.
There. Sealing themselves in, surrounded by metal and glass like soft tortoises beneath a
shell. Stupid. The glass was a cub’s game to smash, eaisier even than a tortoise shell,
and then how could they run, caged as they were? The pack leader snarled his triumph to
the sky as he dragged his struggling, squealing prey into the cool night air and snapped its
neck to stop it moving. Never again would he be caged! The night belonged to him, to
him and his pack, and he’d not let them cage him!
The beast in the body of Xander Harris howled, fresh blood smeared across his mouth,
and began to devour the carcass of the young boy before it. Around him, his pack bayed
their agreement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy Summers heard the howling and winced. It would have brought her running, had
she been in any fit state to run. Had she not stumbled on a single loose pebble, scraped
her elbow, put out the scent of blood in the air, and brought six vampires running out of
the night. Two were already dust, but that left her four to deal with, and they weren’t
going to let her go until they were even deader. She redoubled her efforts, praying to
reach Xander and the others before they killed again, praying she wasn’t already too late,
knowing she probably was.
*POOF*. One more down, three to go. At least Willow and Giles were probably having
better luck setting up the spell at the zoo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rupert Giles came to with a groan. Stupid. He should have seen it. And lord knew what
the man was doing now, with Willow out there, or Buffy, or the hyena-children...surely
they had returned by now. He really had to get loose of the ropes around his wrists. But
for the moment, lying still and not moving until the jackhammer drilling through his
cranium subsided might not be such a bad thing. Just for the moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Willow frowned into the darkness. She’d been waiting for over an hour, they should BE
here by now. Hesitating a moment, she returned into the hyena house, where the
zookeeper was pacing impatiently.
“Well? Are they coming?”
“No, they-they’re not here...not here yet,” Willow stuttered, taken aback by the man’s
scary, skeletal costume. “I...I think some-something’s wrong.” And then a thought
occured. “Hey, where’s Giles?”
“Damnit,” the zookeeper swore, ignoring her question. “Fine. We’ll do it the other way.
And you can help me.” Before Willow could gather her wits to react, he’d begun binding
her wrists together with leather. “The predatory act.”
Willow blinked in confusion, as she was turned around, wrists tied, and a sharp-bladed
knife pressed to her throat. “So...you pretend to slice my throat, and the evil goes into the
hyenas? Without them here? Can we...can you do that?”
“Well, it won’t work as well, but this power WILL be mine. Tonight!”
“You will not harm the child!” Giles’ voice shouted, causing them both to turn. The
zookeeper grinned. Evilly.
“Oh, no, I think I will. If you stay back, she doesn’t necessarily have to DIE.”
“Kill her and I swear to you that you will not leave this room alive,” and Willow saw a
dangerous light in Giles’ eyes she never had before. “I’ve trained a Slayer and I’ve more
experience in posession than you could ever dread to have. I WILL not hesitate to kill
you if you hurt her.”
“You? A librarian? You couldn’t even protect yourself. What makes you think that-”
“Giles! Willow! I lost them! They killed a family and I got attacked by vamps and I
can’t find them and-” The Slayer’s voice held a note of hysteria as she ran in, noticed
Willow’s predicament, and stopped abruptly. “You REALLY want to let her go right
now,” she grated out. “Cause I’m thinking? The mood I’m in? After the day I’VE had?
You really don’t want to be messing with me.”
“Come any closer and she’s dead,” he warned. Buffy put up her hands placatingly.
“Okay, okay. Just no sudden-” And in the midst of her bluff, the Slayer lunged,
supernaturally fast, towards the zookeeper, Giles looking on in stunned astonishment
before leaping into the fray.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sated and tired, the pack splashed through the surf of the beach, stopping every now and
then to scent the air. In the midst of unfamilliar territory, as they made for the outskirts of
the places that screamed of humans and other, unnatural predators, the first task had been
to rinse off the smell of blood, and then roll in the dry, powdery sand to mask it. They
would stake out THEIR territory later, when rested. For now...
One of the females, the dark one (Rhonda, her name was Rhonda, but it meant nothing
now, not in that world that was full bellies of human flesh and the pack and the moon and
the cool night air) yipped out her find--a thin stream of brackish water trickling down
from the now-rockier shore. Pack leader jerked his head, and they followed it over rocks
that hurt too-tender paws (they’d lost their shoes once they made the water, tearing off the
confining hoof-things to free toes to feel the sand).
The trickle windened into a stream. Pack leader tasted again, then chuffed to the rest to
drink, that the water was good now. After a pause to lap at the water with too-fat
tounges, they continued, following the streamlet’s crevasse into a sandy-bottomed cave.
Following a barked order, the pack spread out, prowling each nook and cranny for hidden
entrances or surprises. Finding a back exit, the source of the water, and no sign of any
occupant bigger or more dangerous that a few hermit crabs, pack leader barked an
approval. Warm, dry, and not caged in. He flopped uncerimoniously to the sandy floor
and sprawled there to sleep.
Around him, his pack: the two females, darkfur and lightfur, the second male, who would
have been pack leader but for him, who was mated to lightfurfemale, and the third male,
the one who wanted to mate HIM (oh, such a better choice than the lone she-lion bitch, all
warm and willing and for pleasure, not breeding, and above all, PACK), all curled in
around their leader.
They slept.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Giles, what do we do?” Willow begged the next morning in the library, before the start
of school. “We can’t let him be evil and go EATING people, we just can’t!”
“Look, Wills, we WILL find them, I promise,” Buffy swore. “I just don’t know where
yet, exactly.” Willow moaned.
“Giles, help me out here. Tell me we can fix this,” Buffy demanded.
“Quite frankly, I don’t know that we can, Buffy.” Giles sounded over-tired and
exasperated, even to himself. “I realize that Xander is your friend, but I really don’t know
that there’s any way of removing the hyena spirits from him and the others without
transferring them to another vessel. I think we can all agree that after that zookeeper
Primal, we don’t want that.” He wasn’t about to add that it was a stroke of luck that the
man had ended up falling into the cage with the animals he so worshipped; evil or not,
Buffy felt guilty enough about his death already, especially atop her failure with Xander
and the others.
“Well, what if...why does it need to be a person, huh?” Willow demanded. “What’s so
bad about a-a bunch of-of fluffy...fluffy bunny rabbits with hyena spirits?”
“It wouldn’t work, Willow,” Giles said, trying to be gentler. “Force of will. Even if
fluffy bunny rabbits had that kind of willpower, it would be nearly impossible to get them
to direct it. It takes a great will to draw a spirit into yourself.”
Buffy thought he sounded a little too speak-from-experience-y for her, but that thought
triggered another that banished it entirely. “Angel.”
“What?” Giles was startled by her apparant non-sequiter.
“He’s got a lot of random, unexpected mysterious knowledge of most things wiggy.
Maybe he’ll know someone who knows something. I can at least ask.”
“Oh! And Amy’s mom!” Willow exclaimed, excited about the prospect of doing
SOMETHING. “I mean, yeah, evil, and hello, disappeared, but she’s got a whole lot of
magicky-books, maybe there’ll be something in there.”
Giles sighed. “I suppose it’s worth a try.” If it really came down to it, he could probably
get Ethan Rayne to come help, slimy, obnoxious, seventies-bound chaos-worshiping
egotestical bastard that he was, seeing as how he didn’t think he’d ever heard of anyone
with more practical experience into demon-style posessions than his old compatriot. “But
we still have to FIND the pack, not to mention trap them somehow. Unintelligent or not,
hyenas are supremely clever animals, and they are, as a pack, far stronger than us.”
“So our job’s sort of a ‘track, tranq, and transposess’ thing?” Buffy nodded. “I can do
that. Er...the first part, anyway. You can handle the whole transposession part, right?”
“Er...’tranq’, Buffy?” Giles asked cautiously.
“Tranquelize, Giles, and welcome to the twentieth century enjoy your stay. I don’t want
to hurt them, YOU don’t want me to fight them, I’m thinking tranquelizers might not be a
bad idea.” She rolled her eyes. “What, Sir Prepared-for-everything man doesn’t have a
tranquelizer gun?”
“I...I don’t really know just how...how LEGAL that woule be exactly...” Buffy raised her
eyebrows at him, eying the nearest weapons chest, the one with the medival broadsword,
rapier, and modernized aluminum crossbows. He coughed.
“Er...yes, yes, good point. I’ll...I’ll makes some calls.” He stood and headed to the
library’s office behind the desk.
“I’ll go talk to Amy.” Will bounced up and out the door.
“So I guess that means that I’ll-” The bell rang. Buffy sighed. “I’ll get to math.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He woke at dawn, sensing it despite the darkness of underground, and was still for a
moment, simply scenting the cave. The pack were still present, yet no other scents had
intruded. Darkfurfemale warm against his back, secondmale’s head nestled beneath his
chin, all a-knot with lightfur, thirdmale resting head on his stomach, their limbs warmly
tangled. Closing his eyes, satisfied with the state of his pack, he returned to sleep.
He woke again as they began to stir around him, darkfur and lightfur rising first,
stretching, yawning, standing. The males next, cracking necks, tossing hair our of faces,
as he lay still and waited to test how soon they would realize he were awake.
Darkfur pawed at him, quickly joined by thirdmale, who swiped a tongue long across his
face to get him to open his eyes. Suddenly he pounced, taking both of them into a
three-way mock tussle, ontly to be jumped from behind by secondmale and lightfur. They
snapped and clawed playfully at one another for a few minutes, then flopped back to the
ground, panting contentedly. He slunk over to the stream, and, waiting for him to begin
lapping at the water first, they joined him to drink deeply after their long sleep and
exercise.
Once his thirst was quenched, packleader sat back on his haunches, thinking. She-lion
bitch would be with the cubs and her respected pack elder at that stone cage. She-lion
bitch would protect the prey in her territory. They could kill she-lion bitch, eventually,
and they would, but not yet. She was dangerous. She had defeated him, and while the
entire pack together could definitely take her down, there would be injuries. There would
be blood. Blood, weakness, it would call to the other predators around this territory, the
unnatural ones, those that smelled like cold-scale and warm-fur all at once, those that
smelled of lightning and rotted fruit, and the dead cold ones all over that scented of dirt
and decay and the blood they fed on, who turned to dust before they could be eaten if you
tried. They could not risk the she-lion bitch, not yet.
First they needed their territory to be THEIRS, marked, claimed, protected. The
unnatural ones were still predators, they would understand the claim of the pack on their
territory, their prey. Once the claim was theirs. Once they were safe from the unnatural
ones. Once they knew the territory. Once they could afford to be injured and
blood-weak. Then she-lion bitch would find herself alone, packless, would learn why the
pack would never, never break. Together they are strong. Alone she would die.
But today? Before the nightdark-hunting unnatural ones began to prowl, the pack would
learn the territory that would be theirs. They would mark off, they would scout out. They
would prepare.
Thirdmale whined and nudged at packleader, pulling him back to the present. He grinned
a fiend’s grin, licking thirdmale playfully from chin to ear. Far better a choice than
she-lion bitch, indeed. The other hyena tasted of musk and sunbaked earth and sweat and
life-heat and preyblood and home. In an instant, packleader had pounced and pushed
thirdmale flat beneath him on the sandy floor and caught his mouth in a bruising,
possesive kiss and swept his tounge around thirdmale’s mouth, catching more of his
distinctive taste. Then he pulled back, fiendish hyena-grin still in place, apparantly
completely disregarding his packmate. ‘Later’, the kiss promised, and ‘mine!’ Yes, his.
Soon.
Packleader stood, barked at the pack to stop playing in the water, to follow. Gracefully,
the four members of his pack rolled to their feet to follow him in exploring the world that
ranged beyond their new home’s second entrance. Prowling liquidly, packleader climbed
out of the back of the cave and breathed deeply of the crispsweetwarm air outside. Then,
followed closely by his pack, his family, his soon-to-be mate, he set off at an easy,
ground-eating lope, bare feet silent on the worn ground, sun warm on his back from high
overhead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later, by such standards as humans measure time, as great-hot-light-bringer dipped low
across the sky to light afire the infinite expanse of water-not-to-drink in a brilliant blaze
of every shade imaginable, the hyenas saw the rainbow display through human eyes with
minds not born to see color. And, watching the primal explosion, wild and untamed
beauty purest, as one, the pack threw back their heads to sing a melody improvised on the
spur of nature’s eternal moment. There were no words, no rhythm, no score. None was
needed. They sang the pack, sang the world, sang each other and sang sun and moon’s
light, sang night’s welcoming, comforting shadow, sang the clear bright noontide day.
They howled, sang the beauty of life, of even its savagery, sang of the hot rich thrill of
death which gave them strength, let them as pack survive. They howled the Earth-mother
that spat pups, blind and mewling, into the world, and eventually took them, old and just
as helpless, back into herself. But mostly, they sang just to sing. So old and fierce and
battle-built, their voices rose into the darkening sky in a pure, eternal tribute to the
indescribable, fiery beauty of the setting sun. For no other reason but the pure joy of
singing.
Across the town, grimly gearing up for a night’s patrol, Buffy Summers heard the
exultant call of nature most primordial. And Buffy Summers shuddered in fear.
NEXT
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