To continue where you left off...

Atlak began to scream even before Mellor was trampled.... But it wasn't the 
horrific site of what was about to happen, nor even the feeling of terror 
knowing that a Pikatan had lost it's senses in such close proximity, but 
something familiar, and painful for an empath. A Tyrusin was nearby. Atlak 
always had to brace himself for the odd feelings of pain closeness to this 
race brought. A burning throughout his body, the chill of ice in his gut, a 
pain he couldn't bear himself, and wondered how those barbaric, yet poignant 
creatures could bear day to day. A swift blur brought Atlak's attention back 
to the moment, the Pikatan was making a move to his direction. He'd have to 
act quickly to avoid the charging Kompas.
Trinaath Katalla glanced across the field of charging kompas. Again came 
the feeling something was not safe. Katalla had never strayed this far east, 
but it was as if something was drawing her. A feeling like she'd had at the 
skirmish of Ro' kattan, where her and 3 others faced down 20 charging Borath 
in the midst of the wake of Devar. Yet, these odds still deemed no need for 
her help. The Unarra could certainly handle such a crowd of creatures. Yet, 
he seemed to be running, and though it was hard to tell from here, it seems 
the kompas may have stomped the elder Unarra flat. Perhaps an intervention 
was still called for.
Atlak made haste toward the hard stone wall of a nearby hill, while this 
lead him closer to the Tyrusin, it also might afford him enough time to pick 
a workable route of egress from a herd of kompas driven by a maddened 
Pikatan. He raced for all he was worth toward a lower ledge of the hill, 
almost clifflike, with a slower grade above that. The rocks were pale blue, 
some called it ice scorching, from the passing of the frost moon. Yet, the 
ice had already past beyond, and he should be able to grip it. He pushed his 
mind to the limit to convince his mount to charge all speed straight at the 
cliff. His face turned flush and faint, he felt the power drain from his 
body, as he began to lack the strength to grip the saddle. Atlak steadily 
got to his feet, on the back of a moving mount, which would seem a difficult 
act indeed for anyone short the riding skill of an Unarra. He leapt at the 
cliff face full boar.
Katalla slid down the gentle slope of the hill, having coated her backside 
lightly with ice, to ease the way down. She fell into a full tumble near the 
bottom, almost seemingly intentionally. From this rolling posture, she 
sprung forth to a leap, as if to jump off the cliff into a herd of charging 
kompas, and yet, this was not the case. Falling short that mark by just over 
half the length of her massive body, she stretched out an arm, and clasped 
the Unarra before he was to plummet back to the ground. Hefting Atlak to her 
side, he caught grip to the cliffside, and grasp her legs firmly, in a 
manner which a terrified child grasps a mother waist for something it lacks 
the understanding of. "Fancy yourself a Lokai young one? A leap like that 
one should be left to those capable of it," Katalla murmured, in a calm 
voice, hoping to steady the Unarra.
Atlak felt confused, and hurt. He could feel the kompas pounding the life 
from his trusty mount, and still there was the unsettling madness of the 
Pikatan wafting in the air. That, paired with the proximity to this Tyrusin, 
was almost enough to break him. He composed himself. "No, but I do what I 
must to live. And thank you, great one." Katalla smiled, a pursed smile, but 
a smile nonetheless. The pounding of the kompa herd began to get more 
distant. This was comforting to Atlak, as he felt a disdain for this chore 
above all others. The ledge of the cliff shifted a bit. Katalla glance down 
from the ledge. The Pikatan was at the base, and had rammed a horn deep into 
the base of the rock. Atlak glanced down as well. "That's odd," Atlak 
offered, "Even a crazed Pikatan wouldn't stop chasing the herd, it's as if 
this one were after me. But that doesn't make any.." The cliff shuddered 
again, the Pikatan had withdrawn it's horn from the base, and with it a 
sizable chunk of rock from the cliff.
Without pause, Katalla grasp the Unarra, and turned to ascend the slight 
slope of the hill, to put some space between them and the cliff's edge. But 
it was a second late, as the cliff began to crumble beneath them. They 
toppled a good 10ft straight down, rocks collapsing below them, as Katalla's 
huge girth broke free any rocks that might have supported them. Right at the 
bottom, Atlak's head met hard with a small boulder, and rendered him 
unconscious. Katalla glanced up from her sitting position, and shed a layer 
of ice from around her, sliding the rocks that might have barred her 
movement free, and clambered to her feet. About 30 yards to her forward 
position, the Pikatan, sizing her up for a charge, but this, this was not 
what drew her to this place. That, she knew, from what she saw farther out. 
A Cavalon, hiding, almost completely from sight, in a cave up the cliffside 
about 100ft, on the opposite side. A voice from her past entered her mind, 
focus on the moment, seek later the cause, now deal with the effect. She 
sized up the Pikatan.
The Pikatan erupted forward into a cloud of dust, almost hiding itself and 
it's charge. She might have doubted it's direction if not for the loud wail 
it emitted, a wail of pain it seemed. She sprang forward, and jutted to her 
right, to draw it to a better field of battle, while at the same time 
drawing it away from the Unarra. It didn't work. The Pikatan was still 
headed towards the Unarra. Puzzled, the voice came again, focus on the 
moment, focus on the moment, focus on the moment. Katalla acted almost 
without thought, she sprung forward at full speed, and bettered that of the 
charging Pikatan, charging right at it. She turned slow and kept speed with 
it, placing her self a few feet to it's forward, and running all out toward 
the Unarra. She dropped, again coating her rear in thin ice, and extruding 
some of that onto the soil behind her, and slid by the Unarra, grasping him 
with one arm. As her feet contacted the cliff face, she bent her legs in, 
came up at about a 45 degree angle, and sprung her self backward, without 
looking. The long horn of the now sliding Pikatan caught her back lightly as 
she passed, and left a gash about 1ft long, spewing her blood lightly over 
the beast as they flew past. She dropped the Unarra, and rolled backward up 
to a stance, a strong one at that, and a dead silence fell about this 
valley. Broken only by a loud crash, of the Pikatan smashing into the 
embankment, and a light snapped buzzing sound from all around Katalla. A 
flare like burst of energy crackled from her chest, and streaked toward the 
cliff, breaking lose more rubble from before, and the new second impact of 
the Pikatan. This rubble careened from the cliffside, and broke the 
remainder of it down, burying the Pikatan with it.
Atlak awoke to a crumbling sound, much like the one that set him in this 
unnatural sleep. He watched at the Pikatan was buried in the sharp rocks, 
and grasp his own side almost in pain as he had paid a bit too much 
attention to this for an empath. He looked up at Katalla. She had a solemn 
look on her face, pale and wan, almost sickly. He felt again the Pikatan's 
pain, then, a dark warmth, one bereft of life, and knew it's suffering 
madness had met an end. "What, what happened?" asked Atlak. Katalla took a 
deep breath. "Ask the Cavalon," she bellowed, almost in pain, pointing a 
long arm to the opposite cliff facing. Atlak spun, and saw no such creature, 
but could hear thoughts, from there. "Nice, nice, the Kuj shall be pleased 
with this I think. What, stay out of my mind Unarra!" Atlak saw a shuffling 
from the cave high on the cliff, and then, there was nothing, no thoughts, 
no movement. He spun back around to look at Katalla, but, there was nothing 
there. In the distance of the valley, a shadow lurked away, back towards the 
northwest. Atlak, confused, looked at the blood on the ground, leading off 
in that direction as well. He sobbed silently a few moments, and gathered 
his strength. "I must return Mellor's body to the others," he thought to 
himself. This, could not be a good sign.

(The End... Almost)