What was more troubling was how rapidly the seasonal shift seemed to be occurring, and Konta could tell that something was off right away. As Spring gave way to Summer, the plants that thrived in the former would quickly wilt from the rapid climate changes, and the harsh, dry winds of the latter brought with them fierce sandstorms that would eventually blanket the ground where rich foliage had only days before stood. Normally, this transition was slow and gradual, and the first appearance of dying plants would be the signal to pick up and move. As the tribe moved ever onward, however, Konta started noticing some disconcerting signs.
The flora that had been lush and green near their old camp just a couple days before had already turned a decrepit shade of brown, leaves peeling off constantly and falling to the ground where they cracked and dissolved, dry and brittle. The tribe was also moving even slower than usual since a thin layer of dust had begun to accumulate on the forest floor. Every step left footprints that the rear guard had to make sure and cover. There was no doubt in Konta's mind that Summer would be here sooner than anticipated, and even with their early departure there would be little chance of them reaching the valley where they usually weathered out Summer in time. They would have to prepare for a worst case scenario.
Sidling up besides Faygo and nudging him, Konta made a gesture to the plants that were visibly deteriorating, some of them already ripping free of their desiccated, useless roots and threatening to fall. Faygo nodded, and Konta knew he must have come to the same conclusion: Summer would be upon them within days, and they would be blindsided if they were not ready.
The two thus approached the chief, who was already eyeballing the same things that Konta was observing. Murg looked upon them for a few moments, holding up a hand to stop the convoy of villagers as Konta watched the old man's mind work furiously, trying to figure out what the best course of action would be at this time. Finally, Murg tapped the chest of three hunters, a sign that he had a hunt for them: Konta, Klik, and surprisingly, Bobo.
Bobo had been a wreck since his return from the Fauxbe Cow's trap. Konta found it hard to sympathize with him, as death was a necessary risk every hunter faced in order to help the tribe. Obviously losing a hunter was a detriment to the group, but each death only instilled in the other hunters a greater sense of importance in preparation and caution during hunts. Of course, Konta also realized that the loss of a son might be something more profound than he could understand right now, especially one with so much promise. When he looked to his dear Kontala, her belly growing more with each passing day, he thought of what his feelings would be should some predator attack her and their unborn child. Just a passing thought about it made his blood boil, and he suddenly found it hard to think any further ill of Bobo's current state of mind.
Perhaps this was why Murg chose Bobo for the mission. The once unflinching hunter needed to be reminded of what his role was in the tribe, and what the pelt he wore signified. The tribe needed him now, more than ever.
The chief was quick to give his order. He picked up a handful of sand from the ground and tossed it, creating a billowing cloud of dust. Then he nodded at Bobo. The message might have seemed abstract, but it was a simple and silent way to get the message across: Bobo was to find a large amount of sand right away. He was to look for a desert.
Bobo, ragged as he looked, wasted no time in climbing the tallest tree he could find and extending the Fruit Bat wings, taking to the sky as he had so many hundreds of times before. As he disappeared over the withering canopy, Murg crouched to the ground and hastily sketched a crude picture in the sand with his finger- One large oval with three smaller ovals to represent a head and feet. Then he grabbed a small hide flask from his side and dripped a tiny amount of water onto the picture.
Konta's spine chilled as he realized what the chief was asking for, but he also realized that there was no other option. For their clan to survive the merciless Summer, they would need a constant supply of water, and there was only one way to get a sure supply of it for the season to come.
What they needed was a Canteen Turtle.
Konta noticed that one of Klik's eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. He, too, understood what they were going after, and also understood the danger they were about to be put up against. For them to get what they needed from the creature, they'd have to bring it back alive, and the tribe would need at least a couple to sustain everyone. To find a Canteen Turtle was one thing, but capturing one was a task that was as dangerous as accosting a Razorback Mammoth. Konta was curious as to why the chief didn't decide to send a more distinguished hunter in his stead: Bobo and Klik both bore the bracelets that Murg bestowed on those hunters he favored, but Konta had not yet accomplished whatever enigmatic task the chief sought in a warrior to bless him with one.
Another thought quickly crossed his mind. Perhaps this was what would finally prove himself worthy of that bracelet, and Konta could finally become a hunter the entire tribe could be proud of. This was the hope he nurtured as Bobo returned, landing perhaps a little heavier than normal, but not enough to endanger their position. A quick gesture with his hand indicated the direction he had found their destination in, and considering how quickly he had returned, it wasn't far off. Perhaps luck was finally beginning to trickle back to the tribe.
The other tribesmen hurried to procure wrappings for the hunters, thick robes and face scarves that would protect them from the Sun's vicious heat. Once secured in their protective clothing, they wrapped their pelts back over their bodies and set out with Bobo in the lead, Konta only stalling for the briefest moment to glance back at his mate, who nodded encouragingly. It was the small gestures like those that gave Konta the fiery determination to come back alive, no matter the cost.
The Sun had just crested past midday when the trio emerged from the quickly ruining forest onto an open sand dune. It was a stark reminder of how harrowing the change between seasons was; the desert started just as abruptly as the forest ended, and Konta almost felt that if he looked closely enough he could see as the desert slowly encroached on the wilderness and swallowed it up. There was little time to waste pondering the fury of Nature now, though. They still had a turtle to find in all this sand.
The Canteen Turtle was known to live in sheltered oases in the desert, where they would be unimpeded in their growth. While it may sound like this was the perfect opportunity for any parched scavenger, their existence was undercut by something far more sinister. The Turtles were as safe as could be, and their protection was what sent another chill of primal fear through Konta and his companions.
Without the trees to take the brunt of the desert winds, the hunters had to rely on their thick wrappings and pelts to protect them from the constant buffering of the desert zephyrs. While they were shielded from most of the heat beating down on them, it wasn't long before the effects of prolonged heat exposure began to creep up on them. They drank small amounts regularly, giving Konta a slight bit more, for the jet black fur of his Obsidian Panther pelt absorbed heat readily and thus caused him to overheat rapidly. There was no place for him to stow it, though, and the other alternative- leaving it behind- was out of the question while he was hunting, so he suffered in silence and did his best to conserve strength as they approached a likely area to spot their prey from.
Once again, luck was on their side as they reached the top of a particularly large dune. The type of oasis that Canteen Turtles frequented tended to be located in deep valleys created by a number of large sand dunes. Sure enough, at the bottom of the hill they now stood on, another slightly smaller dune rose in the middle. At the top of that one rested a gentle pool of water, surrounded by three palm trees and some rough brush. It was likely a Canteen Turtle nest.
The next step was where they would have to move cautiously. Once they started their procurement of the Turtles there was no going back, and one false move would spell certain death for all party members involved. The three looked at each other, each thinking up their own plan.
Kon
ta knew that he was likely the fastest runner in the shifting sands of the desert, but Bobo would probably be faster flying. Bobo couldn't fly with the added weight of the Canteen Turtle slowing him down, though, so if that was to be an option it would be down on Klik and Konta to get the Turtles.
Bobo appeared to notice Konta looking at the Fruit Bat pelt, and shook his head as he touched the soft brown fur. Konta got the message- Bobo had no intention of flying. Konta figured that Bobo maybe would have trouble moving properly in the fierce winds, and there was a very real danger of crashing if he couldn't control his glider. Instant death.
It was then that Klik tapped his own pelt and raised an eyebrow, indicating he would serve as the bait needed for the all-important distraction.
There was a trait to the Wonderwasp that wasn't readily apparent during the night, when Klik was usually out scouting. The large winged insect was actually a Summer beast, successfully hunting in the harsh deserts thanks to its brilliant carapace. When the plates of the Wonderwasp were struck by Sunlight, they bounced back in every color of a prism, shimmering and twisting in a way that confused potential predators, and at the same time inducing a mild form of hypnosis in prey with weaker constitutions.
Konta, even now, had to be careful not to stare directly at the pelt, lest its luster get the best of him. Konta realized that Klik was right, and that if they had any hope of escaping with their prey, Klik would have to be the diversion while Bobo and Konta took the targets.
With their plan formulated, each hunter took a deep, steady breath before descending the dune. They had to be careful not to reveal their presence quite yet. One false alarm would be enough to drive the Turtles completely out of their reach, and put the entire tribe in grave danger.
Fortunately the dunes surrounding the raised oasis created a funnel for the winds, causing them to howl loudly as they passed through. This gave the trio some much desired cover as they reached the dune upon which the oasis stood. Stopping at the base, they looked at each other one last time, nodding solemnly before rushing up the side, scurrying as quickly as they could.
They were halfway up when Konta felt the first tremor. He couldn't stop climbing, though his heart felt like it froze solid in his chest. The rumble quickly subsided, but he knew it would be a short reprieve at best. They had to act now, before their presence was fully revealed.
It took mere moments afterwards to approach the oasis. There was an intense natural beauty to the place. The bushes were more green and lively than some plants that lived during the Spring, the palm trees that dotted the oasis stood over four men high, large orange fruits lazily hanging from the fronds. The water of the oasis itself sparkled with a dazzling blue; the purest, cleanest water imaginable. In the middle of this crystal clear water were about ten large, stone-like shapes. They were the reason for this impossibly pure water, the targets of this hunt: the Canteen Turtles.
A second tremor knocked them from their stupor. They had to act fast, because that was the last warning they would get. Konta and Bobo moved forward as gingerly as possible, as if they dared not so much as stir the sand beneath their feet. There was no apparent way to reach the Turtles without stepping in the water, and they had no time to try and think of a different plan, so they did the only thing available, and plunged into the waist high lake. The water was cold and felt incredible on their Sun-dried bodies, but there was no time to enjoy this blissful sensation. A small, mottled head rose out of the water and let out a shrill shriek as the Canteen Turtle sensed something invading its territory. Within moments, the others had all raised their heads and let out their cry for help as well.
At once the dune began to shudder, sand now pouring down its slopes, revealing a hard, craggy under-surface. This landmass slowly, very slowly, rose from between the sand dunes, supported by four stumpy legs, each one as wide as six men head to foot. From one of the far ends a massive, bulky shape emerged from within the giant shell, opening two great, black, beady eyes that blinked against the intense rays of the Sun. Then it opened a mouth that could fit a dozen humans inside easily and let out a bellow that shook the earth.
The Canteen Turtle lived its life with safety from almost all predators, because it spent the entirety of its immature years living on the back of its parent. It was a monster that was larger and stronger, pound for pound, than the horrifying Razorback Mammoth- the Tortoasise.
And Konta, Klik, and Bobo had just incurred this mother's wrath.
The Tortoasise
The anger of a disturbed Tortoasise was something that was instilled into hunters of the tribe at the earliest age possible. They were a dangerous existence that was only rivaled by the relentless beasts of Winter, but unlike those the Tortoasise was a creature that did not actively seek out its prey. A tribe could go the span of a dozen seasons without ever accosting this behemoth of a predator. Still, this was exactly why aspiring hunters had to be taught quickly how to spot the warning signs of a nesting Tortoasise, and how to safely navigate past them, for provoking the ire of an adult was at best a death sentence for the hapless fool; at worst, the entire tribe would be left at the mercy- or lack thereof- of its fury.
Konta remembered the day he and a group of other young hunters-to-be were led by a much more seasoned hunter, a man he had named Sinje, to a young Tortoasise during one calmer Summer. It was as perfect a time as they would ever get to be instructed on how to spot one and how to avoid calling its attention to a hunting party. During that incident, only three of the eight fledglings made it back alive, and only because the enraged beast was too distracted killing Sinje and the other five less fortunate young ones. Konta, of course, was among the survivors, and to this day he held a deep fear and respect for the creature and the power it possessed.
This Tortoasise that they now had the misfortune of dealing with was much older than the one he had last seen, and subsequently was at least twice the size. Its roar shook Konta, Bobo, and Klik to their bones, and there were faint stirs of life in the surrounding area as various other beasts took to flight, lest they be caught in the wake of the monster's rampage. Under regular circumstances, the three hunters would be doing the same. It was only because they weren't dealing with regular circumstances that they were anywhere near this beast in the first place. They needed its brood, no matter the risk.
The task at hand only grew more and more impossible to pull off with each passing moment, though, as the Tortoasise rose to its full height. From the top of its back to the desert floor was a height of at least one hundred heads. Even if they tried to slide off its back, the bottom of its shell was no less than forty heads from the ground: it would be a sheer drop down. Factoring in that they'd be holding heavy loads that needed to survive the impact as well, and that they'd also be put right in the path of stomping legs the size of tree trunks, the chance of getting away with even one Canteen Turtle, let alone two of them, was nigh on impossible.
Their plan to use Klik as a distraction was forgotten. In his panic, Konta's mind raced desperately to try and figure out a way down. One of the nearby Canteen Turtles snapped angrily at him, shaking him from his thoughts. As he narrowly avoided losing a leg to its razor sharp beak, he noticed that this particular one was a deal larger than its brethren. What's more, there were two small leafy buds sprouting from its shell, a trait that it did not share with the other Canteen Turtles.
At once Konta realized that this was the only chance that they had.
Immediately he scanned the area, despite the heaving of the mother underfoot, and found two large, craggy fruits that had fallen off the trees that grew from the Tortoasise's back. These unique fruits were long ago discovered by the tribe to be highly toxic to humans. As droppings from a Tortoasise have never been found, an oddity considering its size, Konta figured that perhaps they were an alternate method of discarding waste from the gargantuan body. What was poisonous to people, however, was the sole food source for the growing Canteen Turtles. Another thing that Konta knew from experience was t
hat Canteen Turtles were ravenous gluttons, and wouldn't stop eating when they encountered any foodstuff.
Hastily Konta found two nearby Turtles and shoved the fruits into their mouths. As expected, they clamped down and began eating immediately. He let out an incoherent shout, normally something a human would never do, but considering the circumstances there was no chance they could be in any more danger, and it was the only way he could get his comrades' attention. As they looked to him, he picked up one of the Turtles engrossed in eating and shoved it into Bobo's arms. He did the same to Klik with the other Turtle, and gave them a stern look that told them he had a plan. The two looked to each other, then back to Konta. Giving brief nods, they knew to trust his judgment: they were well aware of his experience with the Tortoasise, something neither of them had gone through, and decided it was their best bet on getting what they needed.
Once Konta knew their cooperation was assured, he turned back to the turtle with the leaf buds that had tried to bite him earlier and struck it with the flat of his hand. It let out a low cry, far lower than the call its brothers and sisters made. Beneath them, the mother Tortoasise let out another earthshaking bellow. Then, she began to rise up on her hind legs.
This was the break the hunters needed. As it reared back to try and eject the intruders from its back, the hindquarters of the beast lowered almost completely to the ground. Bobo and Klik knew right away that this was the safest descent they'd be given, and wasted no time in rushing towards the back end of the gargantuan beast as the platform they stood on quickly became steeper and steeper. Their stride became an involuntary run as the creature rose to a height of over two hundred heads standing, but with a final leap they hit the ground rolling, the sand thankfully absorbing most of their land as they did everything they could to protect their precious cargo, which continued to munch away merrily.
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