Illeana spots the behemoth babies in the distance and levitates them. They squawk and look perplexed, their little feet and tails "swimming" in the air out of instinct.
Mama behemoth doesn't like that one bit and races for her offspring. Her tail thrashes the water into a blur of white water as she propels herself forward as rapidly as possible. James bides his time and waits for her to exit the water onto solid land. One she does, he knows her speed will drop and the odds of placing three shots with the tightest possible grouping will be much improved.
FFT FTF FFT! The suppressed Desert Strike hisses three times. The first sabot cracks the keratin shell. The second sabot shatters it, and the third plunges into the behemoth and races up her spine. She arches her back, then slumps into the damp mire beneath her.
It's night. Illeana has summoned another water spirit to conjure up mists for concealment and a steady breeze for comfort. The damp nature of the terrain makes the breeze almost uncomfortable, so Illeana has built a small fire. The wet wood smokes prodigiously.
"Is this wise?" James asks about the fire.
"The smoke will help keep the bugs at bay," Illeana says as she laboriously hacks away at the behemoth with her claymore. She stops to rest, blowing a strand of hair out of her face while leaning forward on the hilt of the sword. It promptly plunges into the spongy turf, almost causing her to somersault forward. She stands up straight, trying to play it off as intentional.
"Plus it's good for morale. And cooking dinner. And keeping shamblers at bay."
It's a spooky scene. The mists are thick just off the edge of their little island. Even with his enhanced vision, James can't see the sky, nor hardly any trees. It's like they are in a cave of clouds and shadows, the fire providing the only pool of light. As far as James knows, the rest of the world is gone, has ceased to exist.
Illeana is making slow progress on the behemoth. Even in death, its armor is almost too much even for her magically enhanced blade and magically augmented strength. At one point during the afternoon, James had felt eyes on his back. He spun around to find Illeana either staring at his butt or the smuggling compartment on the small of his back where he keeps his Redliner pistol. He could see her mental gears turning, thinking about how the laser could probably cut the beast effectively.
"Don't even think it," he warned her. She turned around and grumbled something about how she was the witch but James was the one reading minds.
As promised, the tusks and claws had come off first. She had split open the tail next, mostly to procure James' dinner. His rations weren't ruined but nor were they in great shape. He argued that the Rock Lizard Blood would make him immune to contaminants. She didn't disagree, but she argued that they should make the most of the meat while it was fresh. "Besides, when is the next time you're going to have fresh behemoth?" she asked.
"Tomorrow for breakfast from the looks of it," he muttered. ("Hey!" she objected, before conceding the point.)
The tail roasted over the fire. James pulled it off and looked around, wondering if he should just bite off a chunk.
"Here," Illeana said, gently tossing her survival knife to him. He catches it easily and uses it to start slicing off bites. The flavor is a bit dull, regrettably, due to the lack of herbs and spices.
The behemoth babies slept peacefully by the fire, oblivious of their new life situation. Illeana had fed them some spoiled rations, which they accepted with great delight. James wondered if it was possible for Illeana not to be maternal, even to little monsters.
"I feel like I grew up around animals," she says at one point, leaning up against James next to the fire. "No specific memories, mind you. It's just that animals feel... familiar. Cats, dogs, sure, easy. But I can also look at a horse or a cow and it doesn't seem weird or exotic." She pauses to pet one of the baby behemoths on the nose. Its eyes remain closed as its jaw opens in an apparent display of contentment. She stops and pats it on the back. It continues sleeping.
"We'll take them with us," Illeana says. "Might make for a good-will gift. Or, if we end up taking them back, then we might find a research institution or a zoo that's interested. In the meantime, Chombo, Crusher, and Allison stay with us."