Iron

Mark Coles was a small man, never asked for any trouble. He and his wife of ten years had a normal, loving marriage; raised their two kids right, not worrying about anything other than retirement right up to the night the Hounds of the Hunt nearly tore them all apart. Lucky for the Coles, a group of hunters had been hunting the hounds and managed to get there in time.

Leaning against the battered porch railing, Liz looked around. Nothing had changed over much since that night.

"Hey, Mark, came as soon as I could. Wassup?"

She gave him a slow, easy smile. He might be part of things now, but the man was still as skittish as a foal. His face spasmed in what was probably meant to be a smile, though it came across as more of a grimace. The scars across his face didn't move.

"Hello, uh, Liz. Nice to see you again, yes," he stammered, ducking his head. "You're looking well, yes. Well, come on in, right?"

She kept the smile easy, reassuring like. Whatever Mark had, it had him twisted up more than usual. Liz knew she didn't look well; the waitress at the local diner had given her looks of pity mixed with horror, tired eyes tracing the livid bruises on her face. It looked worse than it was; it's been many a year since she couldn't hold her own in a fight against a simple dirt golemn.

"Sure, Mark. It'd be nice to get outta the light." The floor creaked as she stepped from the porch to the house; a growl rattled the walls, shivered the china. The calm look on Liz's face didn't slip. "What'cha got here, Mark? Don't sound too friendly, does it."

"I found it. Here. In Sophie's room." Sophie was his daughter, Jake his son; Liz remembered from the pictures.

Mark ran a hand through his thin brown hair. "I looked it up. Before calling you. It can't be that, no, no, can't be."

"A Questing Beast, right?" Liz bent over, eying the small thing in the cage on the table. It hissed at her, snake eyes narrowed, lion tail whipping back and fourth. It had to be a baby; it's leopard spots hadn't yet grown in and there was thick down on it's hind legs. She let out a low whistle. "Damn, Mark, 's'been awhile since I've seen onna these. Awful rare, y'know." Pulling out a small iron rod, she poked the thing. It let out a horrible snarl, latching onto the rod, spitting around it. "Good thing you caught it when ya did; bastard's poisonous."

"Liz, Liz, it's not, it can't--" Mark's about in a state now, running his hands over each other in short, jerky movements. She knew what he was thinking, and flashed him a reassuring, if only a slightly bit distracted grin.

"Oh, these things don't come from where the legends say they do," she comforted, studying the cage. "They breed all on their own. Vicious little buggers; I swear the aes sídhe made these fuckers just to mess with us." Sliding on a thick leather glove, Liz gave Mark one last smile as she hefting the growling, screaming beast up in its cage.

"'S'been nice seein' you again, Mark. We should do lunch sometime."

On her way off the property, Liz tossed Hawthorne-ash before each of the four crooked stones lining the drive. Tracing a quick rune on the farthest stone, Liz looked back at the ruined framework of the ranch behind her. They'd gotten there in time to interrupt the hunt, alright, but not in time to do a damn thing else.

Taking the cage to the end of the drive, Liz threw it across the property line with an angry crash.

"Listen here, you piece of aes sídhe shit," she hissed, glowering the shrieking beast into silence. "There was a deal made on that land, three years past. A deal that was to be kept as long as the sun hangs in the sky and the moon dances across the night. Now, slipping in your dirty, deadly creatures was not part of that deal." The two, scraggly trees near her rustled; she sneered. "I'm not talkin' about the poison, and you know it. Knock it off." Rocks rolled, chasing each other through the hot dust. "I mean it! Leave the Coles alone, or penalty will be demanded." The world stopped. Liz nodded, eyes flat. "I am not fucking around here," she spat, low and serious, pulling a green bottle from her coat, stopped with a rag lined with symbols and runes. "You and yours are the reason for their mess, the reason for a normal, kind family to be stuck like they've been. You fucked up; you pay the price. And what a price you owe. I will call down Morrígna to uphold the bargain if your side is not kept. Now, leave them alone!"

As she shouted, the bottle arced towards the cage; she threw an arm up before her eyes as it exploded into flames.

She waited the fire out, salting the embers as she buried them. She left the cage half submerged in the ground, its twisted, black frame a warning to them and theirs. The Coles family were off limits, and they didn't fuck around to make sure it stayed that way.

AN: Written 08.05.04
Quick note: aes sídhe is pronounced ess shee. They are the race that the Irish claim owned the land before them. The fair-folk. Morrígna is the plural of Morrígan ("terror" or "phantom queen") or Mórrígan ("great queen"), usually associated with sovereignty, prophecy, war, and death on the battlefield.

I decided I wanted to write something, so I did. I went to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_legendary_creatures , told San to pick a letter (Q?!) and to choose one of the six things listed there. After her first choice didn't pan out (Quinotaurs are a serious wtf moment), she chose the Questing Beast based off it's description on the page "Serpent-leopard-lion-hart hybrid". WHO KNEW IT'S OFTEN TAKEN AS A SYMBOL OF INCEST?! O_______O

In any case, I think I like this. And I like wikipedia.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aos_S%C3%AD
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C3%B3rr%C3%ADgan
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Questing_Beast