Icy adrenaline poured through his veins, and Chan lurched up with aching abs to swiftly loosen and yank off the lasso. He was quick, but his bare hands felt sluggish afterwards. He tried to move his right leg, and sucked in a harsh breath when it lay limp, entirely unresponsive.

Chan looked around frantically. His carpet was nowhere to be seen, likely floating to the ground somewhere. The dark clouds turned the savanna into shadows shaded dark and darker.

A muffled step was his only warning before a figure came out of the darkness to his right. "Oo, a Ranger."

The human figure crouched, something clutched in its hand. Chan didn't wait. His good left foot pushed off the ground, and he threw himself onto the poacher, grappling with one arm around its neck and the other fighting for the thing in its hand. They were a tangle of sweat and skin, hot breath and rough fabric.

The poacher grunted, got a boot under Chan’s hips and kicked. A dull ache thud through his abdomen. He heard movement behind him. Assuming it was this poacher's partner, he heaved, rolling over to use the human as a shield.

Sure enough, the poacher yowled as something struck him in the back. "Dammit, Yeong!"

"Sorry," came the drawled reply.

Okay, there were just two of them, just like the two that were camped out by the lure. Even with his one leg out of commission, Chan could–

White-hot pain lanced through his good leg as something stabbed into the back of his thigh. He screamed loud enough to wake the dead. The blade twisted deeper into his flesh before being jerked out roughly. 

Helplessly, he screamed again, the sound torn from his throat as the blade was torn from his thigh.

It hurt. Oh, Gods it hurt like nothing ever hurt before. 

The human pushed out of Chan's slack arms, kneeing him in the eye as he stood. Chan whimpered, holding himself still. He felt a deep ache and a sharp pain and all Chan could focus on was not moving.

"Didn't know a one-legged Ranger would give you so much trouble, Imro," said a third voice, cold and high.

"Go suck on a scorpion stinger," spat the one called Imro. 

More footsteps in the dry grasses. "Well done, Maz," said yet another voice, and Chan had enough wits about him to count at least four enemies. "Hold him down."

Clawed hands pinned his shoulders to the ground, sharp stones digging into his back. The movement shifted his leg, and Chan bit back a cry. Blood made his pants sticky, picking up dirt and leaves as his watering eyes faced the sky.

Will they kill me? Poachers killed animals, not people. They knew the law was against them, so all it took was for a Ranger or citizen to see them, and they’d stop.

But they were four, and he was one. If he died here, he couldn’t testify against them.

An elven face slid into his view, short hair spiked over pointed ears. She snarled, eyes hard. "Where have the unicorns gone, Ranger?"

The unicorns. Somebody still had an order out for their death. If this elf was asking him, that meant Hanji's barrier had worked. 

He could kiss that round-cheeked witch. Breathlessly, Chan panted, "Why? Did your tracking device suddenly go dark?" 

The punch was immediate and vicious. Chan gagged as blood filled his throat and his vision went white. She’d crushed his nose.

Distantly, he heard the elf say, "Sit him up so he doesn't choke to death," and then the claws in his shoulders were tipping him up, and his own blood spewed down his chin with the force of his coughs.

"So, you do know what happened. Tell me," barked the elf.

Chan blinked up at her. Was she a witch? Or a poacher hired by a witch? Either way, there was only one answer.

Chan gathered the iron on his tongue, rolling it around in his mouth before spitting it directly at her.

She looked down at her blood-stained shirt, and her lips slowly twisted in a bone-chilling smile. "So that's how you want to play." Her eyes shifted to someone over Chan’s shoulder. "Do it."

A hand gripped Chan's wrist and arm, twisting it up behind him. He bent forward with a gasp to try and escape the pressure, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as blood pooled beneath his thigh and in his mouth.

"Where are the unicorns?"

They were going to break his arm if he didn't tell them. Slowly, bit by bit.

Chan spat out more blood, his face pulsing with pain. "What are you going to do with them?" he croaked.

The pressure on his arm increased, like thorny vines shooting from shoulder to fingertips.

"I ask the questions. Where are the unicorns?"

Chan just shook his head. His arm jammed up higher, steady agony now filling the entire limb. He grit his teeth against a whimper.

"Come on, Ranger. Just tell me and we'll let you go. We're not even going to hurt your precious creatures." Lightning flashed in the clouds.

That was a lie. Chan said nothing, did nothing, until a high gasp escaped his lips as the pressure increased. His bones screamed at him, his joints twisting like they were never made to. Tears joined the blood on his face.

"No?" The elf crooned in time with a rumble of thunder. "Last chance to tell me."

Chan clenched his jaw. His arm was going to break. It would hurt, but at least this time he was prepared. He knew it was about to–

Snap.

Chan howled louder than his bones breaking. Excruciating agony a thousand times worse than the stab to his thigh enveloped him.

The hands holding him up pushed him to the ground, and he screamed again as every injured part of his abused body was hit. 

Chan blinked and blinked, his vision swimming with pain and tears. In the corner of his eye, he saw something twisted, laying on the ground. He looked closer, and almost threw up. His arm was bent backwards, unnatural and wrong.

The elf sighed. "Well, he's useless. Kill him." She turned away.

Chan was starting to feel fuzzy around the edges, unfocused in the cabin of pain that was his body. 

Die. He was actually going to die here and now. He'd die without knowing if Mihn was okay. Die without seeing her beautiful, angry face. Die, and leave her feeling like shit, because Chan knew just how much Mihn cared beneath all her snapping and snarling.

I'm sorry, Mihn.

The barrel of a gun swam into focus, pointing straight at his head. He should move. He should use his good arm to swat the gun away. But his limbs were so heavy. He tried to raise his hand, and only his finger twitched.

Several things happened at once.

Chan heard the whoosh of massive wings beating the air.

Lightning struck the grass, and flames burst into being.

A dark shape bowled into the poacher looming over him.

The gun went off.

Hot, sharp, wet agony tore through Chan’s chest. It spread everywhere faster than thought, licking between his ribs and up his throat until he felt like he didn't even have a body anymore. He was just an avatar for agony.

Inhuman snarls and screeches filled the night air, paired with human wails and the crackling of the fire. Chan barely heard them. In fact, his hearing was fading. He blinked slowly, scarcely turning his head as his vision became a series of images he was too tired to make sense of.

A pair of slit-pupil eyes reflecting the firelight. Huge beaks shiny with blood. An elven body lifeless on the ground, a dark figure crouched over it. Smoke coiling around a dark tail.

A head topped with black ears taking up Chan’s whole vision. Fangs glistening darkly.

"--an. Chan! Channie!"

Chan smiled. He didn't hurt anymore. He didn't really feel anything anymore, and impossibly, Mihn was here.

Gods, she was pretty, even with those sharp teeth. Her skin looked warm and soft. Except for the wet parts.

Chan frowned, and he forced his blurry eyes to focus.

Mihn hovered above him, her hair clumped together and sticking to her forehead in wavy strands. Her eyes were panicked and huge, glistening with tears. A quick orange reflection flashed behind her wide black pupil. Despair tugged the corners of her mouth down, and her bloody chin wobbled in the firelight.

Chan tracked fat tears flowing from her eyes down her perfect nose. The shining droplets tugged at Chan’s heartstrings.

Oh. He felt that.

"D-don't cry," Chan wheezed. It was wrong. So wrong. Mihn shouldn't be crying. Who made her cry? Chan was going to fight them. "Wh-what's wrong?"

Mihn wailed, and Chan felt like he was inside a washing machine. Why was everything spinning? He just needed everything to quit moving so he could help Mihn feel better. Ah, that darkness creeping in might help. Things didn't like to move in the darkness.

Suddenly, Mihn’s voice was in his ear, jolting him out of sweet, fuzzy blackness. "Don't you dare die, you stupid man. I've got things to do to you."

Die? Oh, right. He was thinking about dying recently. Why was that? He certainly didn’t want to die. Not when Mihn needed something from him. What did she say again?

Chan tried to ask, but his lips wouldn't move. In fact, he wasn't sure he had lips any more. He definitely didn't have eyes. All he could feel was his heart, thumping slower and slower in his chest.

*

*

*

He felt weightless.

"Chan! Stay with–"

Light against his eyelids.

"What happened?! Cha–"

"Portal, dammit–"

"–you're like that?"

"Mihn, put your claws–"

"I can't!"

A swoop in his stomach. Bile on his tongue.

"Blood loss–"

"I’ve never seen–"

Cold. Then nothing.