A ruthless spirit

[ShortTemperedLeprechaun]

Born into the hidden tribe of Ka'Torag-na Bhu'ja the young yautja proved to be...much different than it's peers. While the tribe regarded stealth and the ability to remain hidden above all else, the young yautja (known as only bhu'ja as he had not earned his name yet), couldn't help but be an outcast among his peers, as he tend to rush into danger, fighting his hunts and enemies head on, sometimes taking injuries that SHOULD have left him dead. For these actions, one of the clan elders took an interest him, and named him gahn'tha-cte, ruthless, which was a fitting name.

Many years later, it was his initiation hunt, the greatest hunt for a yautja, the hunt to kill and skin a r'ka. For his first hunt, he was not deemed worthy of a plasma caster, as is the way of things. He did not need it. While his hunting partners went their separate ways, he had his own plans. While one set traps and waited, and the other lurked around the hunting grounds, making no sound, to an extend gahn'tha-cte nearly forgot he was there at times. Walking straight through the hunting grounds, he wasted no time. He surveyed his surroundings, before climbing up a large tree, and taking a perch to survey his surroundings. Eventually, it came. A large r'ka lurking into the clearing, scenting the air, listening for any give away. Leaping into the air, he landed behind the serpent, cracking his knuckles. The serpent quickly turned around, before lunging at him, going for his head.

Try his best to avoid it, it collided with him, pinning him to the ground. Despite this, the hunter remained calm. Waiting patiently, he looked the serpent straight on, before releasing a surge of strength, and pushing it off of him, touching his mask. The serpent had aimed well, his mask had been scratched deep. Slamming a fist against his chest, he unsheathed one of his wrist blades, charging at the creature, his other hand free. Swiping at it, he cut into it's dome, but did not down it. Hissing, it whipped it's tail around, managing to dislodge his mask. Having his mask torn from his face, the hunter spread his mandibles and arched his back, enraged. Unsheathing both of his blades, he charged it once again, trading blow for blow.

The hunt met it's end a little later. Dripping with blood, large gashes decorating his body. Having reclaimed his mask, he looked down at the creature, which was honestly was in better shape then he, despite being dead. He quickly lopped off it's head, awaiting the hunt to end, and to be reclaimed. Upon returning to his tribe, he stared in rage and awe. While he was off on his hunt, a rival tribe had invaded, many of them still in the tribe area. Utilizing his tribes teachings, he lurked around the tribe, taking note of what had happened. Many of his tribe had been killed, or restrained. Among the dead, lay the body of the elder who had favored him. His vision going red, he let out a roar, charging at the members of the rival tribe who remained. Slashing and hacking, and having the same returned, he ran through the rivals ranks in a beserker rage. How dare they dishonor his people, dishonor his elders, DISHONOR HIM! The battle went on long, and was hard. At the end of it, he stood, bloodied, deep gashes and swipes decorating his person. He had gashes, wounds, and even holes in his body from different weapons. Quickly releasing his bound tribe members, he stood still, before passing out from pain and exhaustion. He had earned his name, and done what was right. He had avenged the tribe. He had lived up to his name. He was the hidden tribes first beserker, and he would honor them well.

[ShortTemperedLeprechaun]

I feel I've done better with this than my pred app story. Though it still may be bland or rambly, I feel decently proud of it.