Rust and Water: Part Two - Troubled Waters

Part 2: Troubled Waters Herro-7 stood on a piece of what might once had been part of a building, fallen from somewhere above him what he hoped had been a long time ago. He cast a wary glance upwards at the tilting monoliths of mankind’s golden age. “Did that building just move?” He asked. [i]No.[/i] “I swear it just moved.” The EXO shifted uneasily, ready to jump out of the way at a moment’s notice. Something in the distance creaked as the wind howled through countless crevices, producing an eerie howl. If EXO had hair, Herro would swear his was standing on end. [i]It really didn’t move.[/i][i] I [/i]will warn you[i] if anything looks to be hazardous[/i]. If a disembodied voice could sound long-suffering, Ghosty managed it. Herro nevertheless kept a suspicious eye on the building as he picked his way along the scattered debris lining what had probably been a pretty wide road. This was both good and bad. It was good because it gave him a good view of the wide waters to his right, bad because it gave him a good view of the wide waters to his right. There was entirely too much of it, in his opinion. He hugged the shattered remnants of the buildings that had once lined the west side of the thoroughfare, really the only path currently available. “It’s too quiet here.” He commented to take his mind off the slippery…something…the rusted and bent girder he was traversing was coated with. He took a few mincing steps before jumping up to the next marginally secure looking piece of rubble. The further he could get from the oily-looking surface of the water the better. It seemed to ooze greedily towards the hem of his Queen’s Guard cloak. He snatched the length of fabric away with a glare. [i]A situation you seem determined to remedy[/i]. His ghost replied snidely. [i]I thought Hunters were supposed to be quieter.[/i] “And I thought ghosts were supposed to like their guardians.” Herro pointed out. [i]There are exceptions to every rule.[/i] A pause. [i] Hey, that was actually a little bit clever.[/i] “I’d take a bow if I wasn’t balanced really precariously over who knows how many feet of lake.” The EXO gauged the distance to the next perch. Two hops should do it. He took three, just to be sure. [i]And I[/i] don’t[i] dislike you[/i]. Ghosty pointed out. “Usually I would complain about having this conversation right now, but I’d actually rather argue with you than think about how big a splash I’d make if I fell from this high up.” There was a long pause as his ghost processed this. [i]It would be a pretty big splash. Watch your step…[/i] Herro’s boot skidded on the slime coated slab of concrete and he hastily snatched at a handful of vines that clung to the remains of the wall beside him. Fortunately they held under his considerable weight. Looking up, he measured the distance to the broken top. He was pretty sure he could make it, if he timed his jumps right. One, two…three. One gloved hand grasped the broken edge, the other soon followed and he hauled himself up to crouch on the top. He rose, staring at the maze of twisted metal and ruined buildings. “How am I supposed to find anything in all this mess?” [i]We have a general location.[/i] “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t dislike me because even so…” Herro reached up and adjusted his hood. “We may be stuck here for a while.” … The Hunter rose from her perch on the head of an ancient statue. Though pitted and weathered it was still recognizable as having once been a lion, noble head raised high; a good vantage point. Its partner had long since fallen from its guarding marble platform, only what was left of its worn flank still showing above the waterline. The other hadn’t noticed her, too busy trying to navigate the dance without knowing the proper steps. She glanced down at the flank of her lion’s drowned partner, rust forming a moving cloud of red motes in the water around it. It was dangerous to dance without knowing the steps, the water eager to swallow those who faltered. [i]Why do you think they’re here?[/i] She shook off her ghost’s question. It didn’t matter why the other was here as long as he could be steered away from things best left alone. The Hunter laid one hand on the lion’s pitted mane before turning and jumping to one of the broken pillars that had graced the façade of the once white building, now grey and green with lichen, mold and clinging vine. She could not teach the other the steps, she thought, feet light on the pitted iron rail that was but a short leap away, but she could make sure he didn’t fall. Part Three: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226466504/0/0 Table of Contents: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226526566/0/0