Flashback The Duties of a Patrol [Tinnok]

[Ayatah]

|| 3rd Winter, 509AV || Entrance to Zinrah, the Falynder Jungle ||

There were a few positives to having a cousin with a permanent rank in the army. One; it meant that Ayatah could use the training grounds long after her own service in the military. Second; she could also patrol with her comrades - cousin included sometimes - when they needed an extra pair of eyes or hands to guard the entrance to the Dhani lair. Third; it saved from boredom, for when daily chores were wearing thin.

However, there were also… not-so good things about still having close links with the army. For example, the darkened looks Ayatah received whenever she joined a new patrol group. The Myrian people almost instantly knew that there was something… off about her; be it her long limbs, leaner frame or the pleasant aroma that made men glance twice or thrice in her direction.

There was, of course, another bad thing about working so close with one’s family --

”I still don’t like it.” The stubborn voice of her cousin made Ayatah’s head snap to her left and glare at him. Bennik of the Scattered Bones was three years older than Ayatah, but he likened to think that there were decades that separated them instead. As a child, she had run to her cousin whenever mean boys and girls would tease her because of her dirtied blood - but his father-like protectiveness had simply irritated Ayatah as she turned from girl to woman.

Her dark eyes rolled in their sockets, and she sighed. ”I don’t care.” She said through gritted teeth -- and that was that on the subject.

The two of them watched each other warily for a moment - absolute stubbornness personified. Eventually, Ayatah growled and threw her hands forwards in desperation, ”I give up.” And she trudged away, holding a hand up to her brow to shield her eyes from the glare of the midday sun.

A makeshift crate of wood and skins stood in the best part of shade, and it was here that Ayatah stomped over to. Dipping a hand inside it, she pulled out a skin-flask of water. The heat was intense, and the clammy atmosphere of the jungle provided little refreshment or fresh air. The water was cool to Ayatah’s lips, and she drank thirstily.

After her refreshment, Aaytah shifted in the stick heat. Her clothes barely covered her modesty - but it was the norm with their people. The leatherwear cut away at her ribs and thighs, showing her creamy stomach and those long Eypharian legs. Her dark hair was tied up in a messy plait, out of her face and eyes. A long bow was strewn over her left shoulder, and a double-bladed dagger - though much different to her usual one, should anyone realise - hung at her hip.

”How is it so hot here?” She muttered desperately, allowing the remaining water from her flask run from her breasts to her hipline. Despite having spent her entire life in the jungle, the sheet humidity of her home still managed to make Ayatah uncomfortably… sticky.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

"Feeling right at home, snake?" Tinnok kept her features devoid of emotion, two calculating yellow eyes turned to the speaker, a woman of her age, shorter, who sneered with glee at her insult. Never, heard that one before, bitch. The mixed blood slowly rose from her relaxed position against the tree. It was humorous how many times she had been sent on this route in her short time with the military. Every position even slightly higher than her status as a basic foot solider and scout seemed to think it just the funniest joke to send the half snake to go check up on the Dhani perimeter. It had at least bred a sense of familiarity into her about it, and if those that sent her caught wind of how savagely she would fight and slay her full blooded brethren? So much the better. It still didn't stop the hordes of jokes and insults thrown her way, however, and all she longed for at this point was at least some modicum of originality to the insults thrown her way. Alas, she would have to listen to the standard fare again and again it seemed. Like this wench that thought herself so bleeding clever. Tin just gave a snort and paced away. She smiled as she turned away from her antagonist. A few dirty glares were thrown her way, but nothing more as she made her way towards the water. Her expression stemmed from the state of her companions. The jungles of Falyndar could get so muggy and stifling that it was cooler to move than to stand still and just sweat, but her body soaked up the heat like a sponge and asked for more. A slight veil of perspiration coated her body, dampening the cotton beneath her leathers, but the snake certainly couldn't complain when glimpsing the state of her fellow soldiers. She ran a hand over her braided hair, coiled neatly upon the back of her neck. Fingers trailed over her quiver, but the daggers, longbow, and arrows were all where they ought to be. She grinned at Ayatah's words as she walked over, stepping quietly in that way the half Dhani had. Of course she wasn't trying all that hard to sneak upon her friend, and the fellow half breed was wise to her tricks, but that didn't stop Tin from bodily snatching the water flask out of her grip and taking a long and refreshing swig. "Some shyke about rain, humidity, and Syna's rays. Didn't you pay any attention in school, Aya?"

[Ayatah]

"Some shyke about rain, humidity, and Syna's rays. Didn't you pay any attention in school, Aya?"

”More than you did when we had a lesson about sharing.” The retort was accompanied by a grin, and Ayatah turned around to face her friend, ”it’s been a while, Tin.”

The two mixed blooded women certainly caught some glances from their company. The looks they received were mainly scathing: full of suspicion and contempt, as if the rest of their patrol thought that the women might be plotting something dark and secretive. Since they had been young girls, the two misfits had been close friends, despite having fathers of completely different… species. Both of them had suffered prejudice and disdain from birth, and the shared experiences had merely made them closer, united against the xenophobia of the Myrian race.

And it had, indeed, been a while since they had last seen each other - a season, at least, Ayatah guessed. She stole the flask back from Tinnok, her dark eyes flashing playfully. Her head tilted to one side; an old habit that would be all too familiar to her old friend. ”How is the military treating you?” Her own service had ended as the previous season had begun and - to say the least - Ayatah had certainly… made the most of her time off. A strange little smile twisted at her full lips, but Ayatah blinked, and pushed her distracting girlish thoughts out of her mind. You are on patrol. Focus.

Her mind flickered to her own first days of training for the Taloban army. Her fellow recruits had almost instantly known that she was not pureblooded, and once they realised that her father was Eypharian, the multi-armed jokes had just kept coming and coming. There is no such thing as an original joke, she thought with a smirk. Although… Not every reaction was quite so negative; just three years ago, a desperate woman had asked Ayatah if she could bottle her sweat to dab on herself as perfume. The half-Eypharian had declined politely, and been completely astounded following that odd and one-off conversation.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

“Fine, fine.” Tin handed back the flask and slid her hands to her hips. The Dhani half breed smiled, a rare expression for her since joining the military. Her iron façade was her best defense against the bigots that comprised of her company, and she despised showing emotion in the slightest, whether it be positive or negative. For her childhood friend, however, the expression came easily to her sharp features. She nodded in agreement, “Too long.” She ignored the stares that came their way, though her expression sobered slightly in light of Ayatah’s question. Tin didn’t lie, it wasn’t a Myrian trait, and certainly not one she would consider bestowing upon one of her closest friends, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t tempted for a moment, to say it was rough, but fine. Her service had been wearing on her, and perhaps it would do her good to ease the load a bit, to get it off her chest. That, and she couldn’t lie if her life depended on it. She paused for a moment, and then yellow eyes housing those narrow black slits met Ayatah’s nearly black gaze. “I know it’s rough, that it will always be rough, but by Caiyha…I’m never going to catch a break.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, heavy bags beneath her eyes revealing the emotional toil these first couple seasons had had on her. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was stopped short by the cry of their superior. “Hey! Half breeds! Drop the water and get back to your posts, now.” Tin rolled her eyes, and gave a small smile to Aya before backing off. The she-witch that had spoken was Imalla, the leader of the scouting party. She was missing an ear, but aside from that fact was a pretty comely Myrian, blood colored tear drops tattooed into her features. Anyone who suggested that they were tears, however, was swift to learn the error of their ways with a sharp punch or kick, for as anyone with any sense knew, it was clearly the blood of her enemies. A clever one, Imalla, was. Tinnok turned and return to the perimeter line that her comrades formed at the edge of the tree line, unslinging her bow from her back and holding it ready in front of her. If a snake was stupid enough to come out of that damned hole she sure as Dira wasn’t going to be the last one to hit it. She glanced over to Ayatah, surveying the lithe female. Her presence alone made the stares a bit more tolerable, and perhaps tonight they’d get a chance to talk more…perhaps.

[Ayatah]

“I know it’s rough, that it will always be rough, but by Caiyha…I’m never going to catch a break.”

She nodded understandably. Myri, I know that feeling… The training regime for new recruits was unfathomably challenging - both physically and mentally. The hours of running, sparring, jumping, climbing, wrestling… all came second to the hours of vocal abuse (because, after all, it was pretty much vocalised abuse the trainees received).

It was hard on all the recruits, but has half bloods, Tin and Ayatah’s experiences in the ranks would be all the more belittling and demanding. They had the preconceptions of their respective paternal races to deal with, and although the Myrian-Dhani relationship was far worse than the Myrian-Eypharian one, Ayatah had still been victimised. It did not help that my father’s people are outrageously arrogant and proud.

“Hey! Half breeds! Drop the water and get back to your posts, now.”

Ayatah twisted around, throwing the woman who had spoken a challenging look. Such was her nature at times, and she stopped herself from doing or saying anything that might lead to further conflict with the scouting leader. ”Later.” She promised almost silently as she and Tin returned to their separate posts. They would perhaps be able to chat more later in the evening, when they were relieved of their day’s duty.

”That’s it, Eypharian, get back to your petching place.” The lowly voice came from the stout-looking male Ayatah had spent the last few bells standing next to. She threw him a withering glare; despite being only half-Myrian, she had been brought up to expect a higher place in society than men. ”At least I don’t smell like shit.” She said, her voice calm and cold, her face blank of any expression other than scorn.

The male coughed uncomfortably, shuffled his feet and faced forwards again. ”Good boy,” she purred in a deadly tone.

And when she was sure that nobody else was watching her, Ayatah of the Scattered Bones smirked to herself.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

The heat of the jungle was not forgiving. The Myrian scouts baked like frying meat out in the sun, and after a few bells of relatively quiet sunshine, Tinnok couldn’t tell which she wanted more, a nap, or for some idiot Dhani to come storming out of that entrance. She watched the dark crevice of an cavern intently, but her will for an event did not make it so. The snakes were clever, and coming out in broad daylight would be a serious mistake, better to emerge under the cover of dark and try to take them by surprise. They probably knew better than to escape from this particular tunnel anyway, they had others. And if one did come out? Those things were huge in human form, no less their hybrid or giant snakes forms. She heard Dhani could take Myrians ten to one, even more so in some cases. Strange how both sides were equally as fearless, but then again, it was the only reason both races had managed to survive under such circumstances when all others had been extinguished beneath Myri’s boot. Tin smirked, sardonically thinking how lucky she was to be a hybrid of both. It wasn’t much longer before Imalla walked over and tapped Tin on the shoulder, voice quieter than before, the man who Tinnok knew was from Ayatah’s clan with her. “Snake, go with him and do a sweep of the perimeter, see if you can track down some food for us to eat, I wouldn’t mind some roasted snake.” She grinned then shoved the mixed blood forward. Tinnok glared. “Yes, sir.” The term was said with venom as she marched out with Ayatah’s cousin, Imalla approaching Ayatah next, perhaps with a similar task. Tin grimaced, of course they wouldn’t pair her with someone she actually liked. The mixed blood gave a snort of derision and followed the male…what was his name again? Well, no point in treating Ayatah’s family badly. He glanced side long at her, she at him, then they simultaneously focused upon the task at head. As long as he didn’t throw any comments her way… As she always did when walking, Tinnok focused on where her feet fell. Eyes needed to be open and watching everywhere, for the ground was certainly not the most important part, but the mixed blood took the noises she made very seriously, and her movements reflected such. Bare feet stepped on roots instead of leaves and sticks, heels of the balls of feet were put down before the rest, and distribution of weight from step to step was highly considered. Of course she couldn’t focus entirely on this task, for it meant moving much more slowly than required, but she attempted to keep it in mind as she walked a few paces behind her compatriot. Occasionally he would look back as if checking she was still there, and she knew her technique was at least in some respect, working. She merely appreciated the fact that they were moving again, and kept her eyes fixated upon the green surroundings, looking for a trace of deer or fowl that they could take down for a meal, vaguely wondering how Ayatah was getting along.

[Ayatah]

Bennik of the Scattered Bones was an awkward individual. His clan was made up of stereotypically strong, ball-busting women that ordered him about and questioned his every thought. Having chosen a life in the Taloban army, his work life was little different. All his superiors were women, and even his female equals were treated a damn sight better than himself.

The Myrian culture was not one to nurture men, and like the majority of his sex, Bennik had learnt quickly and harshly where his rank in society was. Apart from serving the Goddess-Queen as he was doing so now, the best achievement a gent like Bennik could achieve would be fathering plenty of daughters… Who would in turn eventually boss him about before finding mates of their own to metaphorically castrate.

And despite having a mixed-blooded cousin, Bennik was never exactly sure where exactly a Dhani-Myrian mongrel sat on the societal ladder. Beneath him? That would certainly be the case if she were a male. But this woman was female, and a close friend to his dear Aya anyway. He would do well to be kind and polite to her, like a good boy.

”It is… Tinnok, yes?” His words were barely a whisper. They both knew the dangers of getting caught in casual conversation whilst on patrol.



”Eypharian. I want you to go northwards, see if there are signs of any slithery little bastards watching us. Go with your new friend.” The one-eared female nodded to the stocky young man that stood next to Ayatah, before turning on her heel and marching off.

Excellent.

The portly man sneered towards her, and stomped onwards. Ayatah followed, watching the back of his bob up and down as he led their way. They were almost complete opposites; one was short and broad, the other tall and lean. Whereas her… friend was dark-skinned and hugely muscled, Ayatah had much lighter and smoother skin, and was clearly built for speed and not strength. Brain and brawn in person… She thought, a smirk pulling at those full lips.

They soon left the perimeter behind them, but their journey was slow. Ayatah stopped every other bell, touching the nearest tree as she looked amongst its branches for any snakes hanging amongst them. She hovered over a large paw print - a tiger - but it was dried and cracked; too old to pose any concern to them.

”Hurry up.”

Ayatah looked upwards from her crouching position, her dark eyes meeting his. ”No.” she said simply, as if speaking to a child, ”we’re supposed to be looking for any signs of Dhani around here.”

The male chortled, ”I’ve seen the biggest petching clue there is. Your shitty little snake friend.”

She could move perilously fast when needed, and the male didn’t seem to even realize what had happened before Ayatah had him pushed against a tree, her double-bladed dagger pointed against his most… precious area. ”Move, and you lose what little manhood you have.” It was not a threat, but a promise. A harsh darkness flashed across Ayatah’s face - but perhaps more concerning was her toying smirk. ”my ‘shitty little snake friend’ is in the exact same rank as you, recruit, so if she’s such an abomination, what does that make you?” She bared her teeth after her question, demanding a response.

A bead of sweat ran down the male’s forehead - though whether or not this was due to the heat of the jungle or his precarious position, Ayatah was not sure. ”Deyhans always stick together. But the two of you together still don’t make a whole Myrian.”

In reality, Ayatah could not turn this… bastard from man to eunuch -- at least, not whilst on duty.

But still…

In a sudden and jerking movement, Ayatah connected her bony kneecap with the man’s genitals. At once, he gasped and doubled over, clutching at his sides. She stepped away, watching how the male struggled for air, but still tried to shoot her contemptuous looks. ”We move on.” She said, her voice once again void of all emotion. The expression on her face was the same she gave when she walked past a particularly unpleasant pile of Tskanna shit.

I am more Myrian than you.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

When Bennik, that was his name, Bennik! When he spoke, Tin started. Her life had always been one giant test to see whether or not her people wouldn’t just cut her down out of spite. Childhood had been safer, one by one her clan learned of her identity, so the transition was slow for them. For whatever reason her mother had given life to her and raised her…and it wasn’t until she was older that the populace at large knew her identity. It was a trying time for her and her mother, but Krisha of the Tempered Steel would not bend, and despite her hammering upon her half-breed daughter, would not allow any talk of slaying her daughter. Tin sometimes wondered if it was because her mother refused to submit to whatever had happened to her, but other times…well she couldn’t be sure.

Regardless, polite curiosity was very low on the list of how people addressed her. She nodded curtly. “And you are Bennik.” It was a statement not a question, and for a while it was the only words that lay between them. They moved quickly and relatively quietly through the undergrowth, stopping occasionally to check trails, none of which appeared to be fresh enough to follow. After a time, Tin sighed. He kept looking at her, glances and eyes that clearly tried to figure out where he sat in regards to her. She licked dry lips. “Thanks.” Bennik’s eyes widened in surprise, just as unused to positive acknowledgement from women as Tin was from the whole of her people. She cleared her throat and continued, “… for not being a dung heap about my blood, and all that.” Bennik nodded and smiled a little, then they carried on.

She was in front of him when she spotted it. One hand out signaled for Bennik to freeze, which he did. Up in the shadows of the tree she saw it. Maybe it was an ocelot, or a margay, but whatever it was it was small and feline, which meant a nice hide as well as meat. Bennik carried a short bow, but as he went to get it from his back Tin shot him with a glare that made him stop. That was a look he was familiar with. Temporary alliance or no, Tin had spotted it and she had rights to the first shot. Her bow was already in her grasp and she casually drew an arrow from her quiver, notching it and slowly, slowly, pulling back the string. No excess noise to be had, not from her. The creature seemed rather motionless, perhaps it was sleeping? Well, so much the better for her.

She pulled the bow up, squinting an eye and catching the creature in her sights. Deep even breaths as she lined up the shot, and then the hiss of the arrow sliding into the air. She stayed frozen for a moment, but as soon as she heard the impact she dashed forward. Something fell from the tree, but she couldn’t be sure if she had gotten a killing blow.

Dagger in hand Tin leapt into the undergrowth. A low moaning growl gave her answer to her inquiry. The ocelot writhed and wriggled, arrow through its right front leg, trying to get up but failing in pain. She dropped the bow and slid out a dagger, slitting its throat cleanly in a single swipe. “To Myri for staying my hand, to Caiyha for her bounty.”

Bennik came up behind her at a slower pace and nodded in approval. Tin shrugged, sloppy shot, but it got the job done. She tied the creature’s legs with twine and slung it over her shoulder, her kill, her burden. They’d need to find much more before Syna fell.

[Ayatah]

Bennik nodded slowly at the awkward thanks from the half-breed. He could hardly be judgmental of someone like herself - not when his own cousin was only half-Myrian. No; half-Eypharian, not half-Myrian. When they had been younger, Ayatah had constantly corrected anyone that called her ‘half-myrian’, by stating that being Myrian was a frame of mind as much as it was a heritable race. And in some ways, she had proven her point true. She could hunt as well as any pure-breed, could put up a damn good fight…

But she was still not quite… right… And it had pained the Scattered Bones to admit it. Ayatah had a particular un-Myrian thirst for knowledge and academia, as well as a curiosity of what lay beyond the jungle. But the latter of these could well be a Myrian familial trait as much as an Eypharian one; both Ayatah’s own mother and Great Grandmother had explored the lands beyond their jungle home. But for Ayatah, one of the greatest desires that fuelled any want of hers to leave the jungle was to learn about her Father.

It was near impossible for a purebred Myrian - Bennik included, unfortunately - to comprehend why a half-Eypharian might want to search for her paternal family. But he knew that for Ayatah, it was finding something about herself as much as it was about her father. She had never known him, nor had she shown any particular interest in learning about him as a young girl. As they had grown up, however, Bennik saw his cousin ask more and more question, and become frustrated by the limited answer Paira could provide for her daughter.

”Good kill.” He pragmatically said. Then, a little more awkwardly, ”and -- I can’t be a dungheap about your blood, really. You serve Myri as dedicatedly as myself, so I have no qualms with you.”

--

The rest of Ayatah’s patrol was silent, save for the heavy breathing of her company. It had taken him a good few chimes for him to regain his ability to walk properly, and even then, he winced and whined like a child. ”Oh, get over yourself.” Ayatah had snapped when he had paused to lean against a tree, ”I didn’t kick you that hard.” Her comrade huffed, gruffed and swore, but eventually had joined Ayatah once again.

Three birds jumped to the air, calling to each other desperately. The two Myrians froze in unison, silently slipping their long bows off their shoulders and notching a bow. Cautiously, they stepped forwards again, eyes set in the direction that the birds had come from. To Ayatah’s knowledge, there were no other Dhani exits or entrances so close to the Zinrah entrance which was guarded so heavily.

But that doesn’t mean there will be absolutely no Dhani nearby

They crept along the way, and Ayatah dipped close to the heavy undergrowth to conceal herself better. The day was wearing onwards - birds should be relaxing and preening, getting ready to roost. They should not be so alerted or spooked.

”Something made them fly. They were spooked.”

The comment was so unnecessarily pointless, that for a second or so, Ayatah stared incredulously at the young man next to her. She was just about to shake her head in despair when she heard something.

A truly pained, awful sound that sent the hairs on Ayatah’s arm on end.

They stepped closer to the desperate noise slowly, arrows notched and at the ready to let fly. Despite their personal differences, the two of them were not stupid. The Myrians’ strength was in their numbers, and their ability to work proficiently as a team - an army. The Myrian male and half-Eypharian had absolutely no love or care for each other. But if they wanted to survive whatever was creating that sound, their personal animosity would have to place aside. They could continue hating each other aftwards.

[b]”A pig…” The words came out slowly, suspiciously. The half-dead pig lay in a small clearing of the jungle, next to a brown puddle of muddy water. There was a single arrow sprouting from the boar’s shoulder, and Aaytah circled the animal, she guessed that it was not a Myrian arrow.

”Poison?”

”Maybe. It was not a critical shot.” She crouched down, a hand on the pig’s neck. The animal snuffled and wiggled, complete and utter pain and suffering in its black eyes. Ayatah unsheathed the double-bladed dagger at her hip. ”Go find Dira, and may she bring you peace.” She embedded the blade just under the animal’s jaw, right into its head and brain.

When the pig shuddered one final time before dying, Ayatah nodded to the arrow at it’s shoulder, ”we should take it back. Imalla might know whether it is… one of ours or not.” It was possible that the boar could have simply bled out - though Ayatah could not see massive amounts of blood around it’s wound. ”We should leave.”

They turned and hurried back, with Ayatah’s male crony holding the arrow in his large hands. Something about the killing of the pig had unsettled Ayatah, and she was keen to return to the familiar faces of the patrols…. Even if they were not the kindest of faces.

oocI didn’t know whether you wanted to turn the mystery murder of the pig to a Dhani attack or something, but thought I’d leave it open… I’m happy either way

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Tinnok]

When Ayatah returned to the compound, faces looked actually eager to see her. Of course she knew better than that, it was simply the opportunity of any information she brought back to escape from the doldrums of watching the cave. Even Imalla appeared a bit eager to see if the scouts had brought back anything of note. “So?” The leader stepped forward expectantly. The thug produced the arrow, glancing at Ayatah for a moment. “Found this in a pig, didn’t look Myrian, and I thought maybe it was poison.”

Imalla surveyed the weapon for a moment, running her finger over the tip. She licked the appendage, then swiftly spat on the ground, nodding. “Frog poison, won’t do no harm unless it breaks the skin, I’ve seen Dhani and Myrians use it, but you’re right, this aint Myrian make. And the pig was just left there?” Both of them nodded. Imalla licked her lips and spat one more time, then raised her hand as she addressed the group as a whole. “Swap watches and start preparing camp, we’re going to want a perimeter set up in case we get any guests, alright?” She motioned to the scouts. “You two, get some wood for a fire, I want em to know where they are if they show themselves.”

---------------

Tinnok of the Tempered Steel was not one for many words. She observed Bennik for a long tick, and then nodded in gratitude before they moved onward. The day was quiet as they walked, but a comfortable quiet of mutual companionship instead of the quiet that came from hating one another’s guts. The mixed blood took solace in this for what it was, for it wouldn’t be an opportunity she was likely to have often.

Apparently it had merely been luck that Tinnok had spotted the ocelot, for Bennik spotted nearly every other creature they brought down first, gaining him shots that actually killed the beast or bird in a single hit. Tin watched his movements and observed, watching how confidently he pulled his bowstring back, how there was no hesitation as soon as he had lined up the shot, even the stance he took when shooting. These were all important traits she could learn from, and so she tried. She even gave him terse compliments in turn for his shots, since he had seen fit to comment upon her sloppy one.

By the time Syna sunk into her earthen cradle the two had returned with a host of food. Their spoils consisted of the ocelot, 3 forest Tinamou, a toucan, 2 agouti, and a peccary, which Tin had taken down with a lucky shot to the neck, hands fumbling, thinking she was going to miss it, then hearing the thunk and squirt of her shot hitting a major artery. Bennik was kind enough not to comment upon the event. Imalla gave a curt nod of approval and motioned for the two to make their way to the fire where the meat could be cooked.

As Tin glanced around she noticed that everyone seemed on edge and wary, a snap of a twig and bows were aimed into the growing shadows. The half-breed made her way to Ayatah who was at the fire, and set about skinning her kills, dagger slicing under the skin and carving away at the flesh. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to do with the supple ocelot hide, but after it was cleaned perhaps it would fetch a good price in Taloba. She took a long slender stick from the pile in order to put the meat upon and glanced up at Ayatah. “So what’s all the fuss about?”