Young Writers Society

(oops, pretend I said he saw the kid instead. is he anyone important or can I stab him a little)

Even from a distance Sirejj could tell the boy didn't know what he was doing. He'd throw his staff if didn't worry about getting it back.

(He's not important at all; just an inconvenience I created for Tarkin.)

Tarkin reached a tree and flattened himself against its roots, keeping his rifle close. The boy was still walking aimlessly forward, a small blaster clutched in his hands. Tarkin would have to have words with whoever had suggested him as a tracker.

Sirejj could feel someone moving closer, but they were hard to pinpoint. Not like the boy. Even if he couldn't see or hear him, he stood out like a sore thumb in the Force. This other one...something about him was elusive. Dangerous. Sirejj knew he must be careful. He was just within the treeline and the other hunter was closing in.

"I don't want to leave you out here," the boy said hesitantly. "We have to get to the tent if we want to make it through the night. And our superiors will want a report."
Tarkin looked up through the brush; he could see the boy now--he was near. Too near again. His dark outline in the night was hunched and defensive, not at all a leader. Tarkin wouldn't mind if the boy was taken by predators, really. It would just kill any chance he had at getting his spit back from Yularen.

Sirejj knew the dangerous one was between him and the boy or else he'd have killed him already. If he attacked the boy he'd reveal his cover and then have two armed people against him. While the young one wouldn't be much more than an annoyance, he wouldn't risk it. Not until he knew what he was up against.

Tarkin felt around for a stone or twig that he could throw, and his hand closed around a long, smooth object. It felt suspiciously like bone, but it would do. He tossed it, and predictably, the boy followed in the direction where it landed.

Sirejj dared to emerge from behind the tree. Almost flat against the ground he moved towards another tree, hoping to spot the other hunter. His movement made no more sound than the breeze. If he could get within melee distance...

Tarkin heard his adversary start to move, and he shifted toward him, following as quietly as possible.

Sirejj picked up on that noise and suddenly charged, judging their distance apart to not be more than a few meters. A rifle would be clumsy at close range and he judged he had the ability to dodge any other blaster fire. His staff did a good job of blocking those.

He was one now; he could hear the rustling of grass just ahead of him. He picked up the pace, gritting his teeth. The time for stealth was coming to an end. Once he was close enough, he was going to grab the other one's boot and drag him back.

The target was moving. He closed in, his staff lighting up as he was nearly upon the other hunter.

Some sort of weapon illuminated itself, revealing a horned humanoid--a Zabrak, Tarkin guessed. He grasped the Zabrak's ankle as the boy turned, and he yanked as hard as he could.

Sirejj stumbled and hit the ground but stabbed towards the offender with his staff. He caught sight out of the corner of his eye the other figure, who was now quickly headed this way. Lovely. The exact situation he didn't agree with. But he had no time to complain, as his opponent was more than prepared for a battle.

Tarkin was forced to let go to dodge the staff, but he scrambled back toward him to try and grapple the staff away from him.
The boy leveled his blaster at the Zabrak, eyes wide.

He could see that his opponent was a human, and an older one. They grappled for a moment and he tried his best to keep his opponent between him and the boy, who might prove problematic. He dug his boots into the ground and tried to shove the man into the tree behind him.