Konta's stomach felt as if it had sunk to his knees, unable to conceive how they could stop the next attack, when through the air there came a high pitched whistling that rang so sharply Konta couldn't help but put his hands to his ears. The rest of the tribe followed suit, looking pointedly in the direction this new sound emanated from.
A figure was now stepping out from amid the ring of hunters, clad in a cloak that shimmered in the weak Sunlight with every color imaginable, the brilliant hues changing like an aurora as they skimmed across the carapace. Its eyes shone even brighter, the lights dancing across their hexed surface in complex patterns, and its transparent wings were flapping at a dizzying pace, acting almost like prisms as the reflected light from the hide glanced through them and scattered the colors in a dazzling array. Konta felt a new surge of hope as Klik slowly advanced towards the tremendous horde that was now visibly shirking away.
While Sand Bees were one of the great terrible hunters of Summer, there was a predator that alone could drive away even an entire swarm of Sand Bees- their natural enemy, the Wonderwasp. The creature's appearance was always heralded by the loud buzzing they now heard, an almost hypnotic noise that, combined with the brilliant rainbow array they displayed in the Sun, was mesmerizing to any creature that beheld it. They were by far considered the most fearsome creature of Summer, but so rare was their appearance that they would almost be considered myth, if it weren't for Klik's possession of one's carapace.
He had come into acquisition of it some years ago, returning in the dead of night with its lifeless body. The tribeswomen, in their incredible ingenuity, were able to rig the delicate membrane wings it possessed so they could be made to vibrate by pulling a cord hidden within the folds of the cowl, but the wings were so fragile even when cured that Klik had to keep them well folded within the cloak during Summer, lest the vicious winds rip them apart.
Now he had donned this same cloak, the carapace perfectly replicating the astonishing light refraction it bore in life, the wings still able to create that spellbinding buzz that caused the Sand Bees to back away immediately. So great was the Sand Bee's instinctual fear of the Wonderwasp, that no sooner did Klik begin to advance on them with his cloak on that the entire swarm lifted as one, retreating the same direction the tribe had just been retreating from. Klik continued to make the cloak's wings beat furiously, drowning out the howling winds with his terrifying buzz for several minutes before finally relenting as the sandstorm picked up strength again. He hastily stowed away his cloak lest it get damaged from prolonged exposure, but it had appeared to have done its job- there was not so much as a gentle hum in the air anymore.
The tribe gave a collective sigh of relief, and Murg and Zanzu quickly gathered a headcount to make sure everyone was accounted for. Last time the tribe had been attacked by Sand Bees- a time that was before Klik had acquired his incredible cowl- three of their fold had been taken before the creatures could be driven off by fire. It seemed that everyone had managed through the ordeal safely enough, save for a few less seasoned hunters who had been suffered minor cuts or punctures from the Sand Bees' stingers. Fortunately, antitoxin for Sand Bee venom was easily procured, and they were treated before any ill effects befell them. They had fought the catastrophic odds and come out with little more than flesh wounds, a best case scenario indeed.
They didn't dare spend any more time than necessary where they were, lest the Sand Bees come back for them again, and quickly retreated in a different direction, hoping to throw their possible pursuers off their trail. Night fell before they had found a new shelter from the harsh sandstorms, but with nightfall also came a calming to the winds, and the tribe decided to simply set up camp in a small impression between several dunes for the night.
While they had lost their haven from the storms of Summer, the tribe was ecstatic at their narrow escape from the terrible clutches of the Sand Bees. There was a small celebration that night to commemorate Klik, whose expertise as a hunter had saved the tribe from what could have been a very sobering ordeal. At the same time, they celebrated one of the lesser hunters who had killed his first beast single-handedly in the attack.
Konta never thought of names for hunters who had yet to kill their first prey, and though he named the young of other hunters, this boy's parents had died before Konta had become accustomed to his method of naming, so this hunter had simply passed by his notice until this moment. Now as the tribe celebrated his first kill, Konta recognized him as a full-fledged asset to the tribe, thinking of him as Senga. When the tribe settled again, the tribeswomen would set to curing the carcass of the Sand Bee he had brought back with him, creating a cowl of his own he could wear proudly on his hunts.
Though the day had been harrowing, it was simply a grim reminder for Konta that there was no place that was safe for them in this world. He watched Kontala, smiling serenely as she watched the new Senga dance joyously around the fire with Klik, her hand resting gently on her belly that was now larger than Konta's head, and wondered what kind of child he would come to raise. Would it be a boy, who would one day grow to be a strong young hunter like Senga; or would it be a girl who would eventually learn the intricate arts of medicine and anatomy that were indispensable to the tribe's continuation, perhaps one day creating a pelt like that of the Wonderwasp that the entire tribe's safety could rely on?
He strode to Kontala, knelt down, and put his arms around her, burying his face in her soft, wild hair. The only thing he wished for at that moment was the strength to protect his cub so that they could one day fulfill their given destiny, no matter what that would be.
The Weeping Willow
Summer was finally ending. This was the foremost thought on Konta's weary mind as his tribe was slowly preparing to get on the move once more. They had managed to make it to the valley they usually camped in during the arduous Summer months, a veritable haven compared to most other choices- high walls blocked the Sun during the day and trapped heat in at night, the narrow valley discouraged most larger predators from coming in, and the bedrock that floored the area protected from any unwanted visitors underfoot. It was the perfect place to rest and recuperate after the harrowing attack from the Sand Bees, but Konta knew this would be short lived. The other day he caught sight of the first wisp of cloud, which was a telltale sign of Autumn's coming.
While the Summer and Winter Solstices were the most unforgiving seasonal changes and their end was normally considered a great relief, there was always a new set of challenges that had to be addressed with any season's arrival. In the case of Autumn, Konta's tribe had to be very careful not to be caught in the valley they camped in when the Equinox hit in full force: Otherwise, this place of refuge would quickly become a grave for their people.
Everything was in order, the village now placed literally on the backs of the young fledgling hunters as the tribe began to migrate once more to find a place to set up for the coming season. The skies overhead had already begun to darken with great black clouds; by tomorrow the heat they had just been enduring would be nothing more than a vague memory.
Konta marched besides his dear Kontala, whose belly had grown so large that she now had difficulty walking. They had to move quickly to get out of the valley before the first rains fell, but with a woman bearing child in the group the tribe had to make sure to take frequent short rests so as to not overexert her. When a child was expected in the tribe, its safe deliverance was one of the foremost thoughts taken when handling a relocation, and Kontala was no exception.
Even with the periodic stops, the tribe made good time as their path began to widen and slope upwards. The Sun was only just beginning to dip below the horizon, but they could not stop to set up camp for the night until they had gotten well clear of the path they currently traveled. The incline was too strenuous for Kontala to walk, and so she had to be carried the last leg of the trek on a stretcher the tribeswomen had strung together from the plants that had begun to grow in expectation of Autumn. Held aloft by Konta and
Faygo, Konta's friend and fellow hunter, everyone was able to hasten their pace, and before long they noticed the walls becoming shorter with each passing step, finally reaching the top of the canyon before the Sun had fully set.
The tribe had entered into a deep indenture in the land that was surrounded by lush green vegetation, a sight Konta hadn't seen in months. Nature had already anticipated the end of Summer's brutal heat, and the plants were out in full force, eagerly awaiting Autumn's bounty. He knew that by tonight, those plants would receive their wish, but for now the tribe had to make sure they were well clear of the valley and that indenture before setting up for the night. It was only after they had traveled far enough to completely lose sight of these that they finally lay down their bedrolls to rest.
While the women and children prepared to sleep, the hunters were busy erecting tarps over a large area that would cover the entire tribe. These tarps were the same ones they used during Spring to keep the occasional rain off, woven from the leaves of the Weeping Willow and held strong by the tree's caulking sap. Konta knew that tonight, though, these tarps would be far more important than they were that last time.
Not a single hunter was allowed to sleep that night. The scouts had been sent out to look for a better place to set up camp when the tribe awoke in the morning, but the rest of the hunters had to be on constant alert to protect the village while they lay out in the open unprotected.
As Konta sat at the edge of the tarp, staring out over the inky blackness with his trusted hammer in hand, there was a sudden flash of light as the sky seemed to crack for the briefest of moments. He knew what was coming, and sure enough, a few seconds later there came an incredible crashing sound that shook the night. He felt Kontala's clutch as she grabbed at his pelt; undoubtedly she had been startled awake from the noise. Konta turned and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, noticing that most of the women and children had been stirred awake from the thunder. Only the eldest of the women, having experienced this for innumerable rotations of the seasons, did not rise from their slumber.
As the tribe tried to settle back to sleep, the first pattering of raindrops could be heard overhead. The soft, soothing rhythm aided the tribeswomen and children as they did their best to rest, but Konta and the other hunters grew intensely alert at this. Autumn was upon them completely now: a season of unending rain where predators could hide practically in the open and never be seen. Tonight it was every hunter's job to watch out for those beasts that were surely now crawling out from their Summer hibernation, preparing to revel in this cascading curtain.
Konta loved the rain. The way it sounded as it hit the ground, the shifting patterns it wove through the sky as it fell, these were all things that left him spellbound as he sat at the edge of the temporary camp, staring out into the darkness that was only broken by the occasional lightning strike. However, the very things that made him love the rain also made him terrified of it. He had to be careful not to be too distracted, for all it took was a single moment's lapse in concentration for a predator to make him its next meal.
There were a couple tense moments during the night during which an unusual sound would draw the attention of the hunters, but nothing ever came of these small outbursts. Konta assumed that these noises were the aftermath of some unknown creature succeeding in their first hunt of the season.
Konta's nerves were stretched to the breaking point by the time morning finally rose, though now the sky was so thick with clouds that the difference between day and night was minimal at best. Within the hour of “Sunrise”, the scouts had all returned. Most simply shook their head as Murg approached them, looking for information, but it seemed that one had perhaps found a promising lead.
Bobo was looking slightly agitated, and Konta noticed a bandage wrapped tightly around his arm that hadn't been present the night before, the cloth tinged slightly red. When Murg approached him, Bobo tapped the tarp overhead with his finger, then cupped his hands together and pulled them apart, wincing from the pain of moving his injured arm. Murg understood what Bobo was signifying, and quickly tapped him on the chest. Murg then wandered along the ring of hunters that had been keeping watch, giving a short tap on the chest of a choice few of them as he looked them over, Konta included.
It was going to be a rough job for Konta, who was already weary with fatigue, but he knew he'd have to tough it out so he could help secure a suitable camping site for the tribe. Aside from himself, Konta noted that the chief had selected Zanzu, Faygo, and an older hunter named Bren for the hunt. From what Konta could tell, Murg had chosen the hunters who looked the most lively after their all-night vigil, and despite how tired Konta felt, he could tell there were other hunters who were far worse off.
It only took a few minutes for the group to get their choice weapons together and head out, following Bobo's lead as he made his way to his discovery. Travel was painfully slow, as they had to be extra cautious moving through the heavy rain so as to not arouse the curiosity of Autumn predators. Fortunately, the rain helped conceal them as much as their foes, washing away their footprints and any telltale signs they might have left behind otherwise.
Konta already had a good idea of the camping ground Bobo had found for the tribe, and his suspicions were confirmed as a large form loomed ahead, obscured by the rain. As the hunting party drew closer, the great shape of a tree began to manifest before them, its branches and drooping leaves billowing out to create a sort of umbrella shape that extended well beyond the base of the trunk. It was a tree that the tribe was well familiar with, for the tribe had used its resources several times before to create a myriad of useful tools, not the least of which was the tarp they had been camping under just hours earlier.
The Weeping Willow was not a rare tree by any means, with entire groves of them often appearing during Autumn when the tree could make full use of the abundance of water available. Its leaves were thin but strong, coated with a waxy resin that acted as a natural sealant, making the leaves virtually waterproof, and the tree's sap was employed by the tribe often as a binding agent for various uses. The widespread blooming shape of the branches, combined with the Willow's inherent watertight biology, made it the perfect haven to wait out the endless downpour of Autumn.
Of course, all these boons came with a heavy trade-off. Konta knew that other creatures instinctively sought out these trees as nesting areas during Autumn, which acted not only as shelter for any beast that made its home there, but as the perfect trap for unsuspecting prey. Predators could safely wait high in the thick canopy of the Willow, completely hidden, and wait for a hapless victim to seek refuge from the rain under the tree.
These trees were so desirable as shelter that it was assumed by the tribe that any and every Weeping Willow they came across was already inhabited, and therefore dangerous to venture near. An entire grove of them was considered the same as an entire village of hungry predators just waiting for them. However, a lone Weeping Willow would be a great place to camp, as their shape would make it easy to detect approaching predators and chase them off, in addition to the obvious cover from the rain it afforded.
So it fell on Konta and this hunting party to evict any predators that may have holed up in what was otherwise a perfect camping spot. The real danger didn't come from the fact that there likely were predators in the tree, though, as much as it came from the uncertainty of what exactly was currently waiting for them. There were several creatures well known for making the Willow their choice nesting area, and approaching haphazardly would be a death sentence for the party.
The Willow finally came into clear view as they reached the edge of the branches, and now Konta and his fellow hunters knew clearly what they were about to face. The tree had been covered with blood, the deep crimson liquid made runny by the rain as it cascaded down the leaves and splattered the ground, creating a visible ring around the entirety of the Weeping Willow.
The name Konta had chosen for this particular tree was derived from the phenomenon he now behel
d, an image of a tree crying tears of blood that had been burned into his mind at a young age when he was still training to become a hunter. The first Willow he had ever seen had borne these markings, a territorial warning sign of beasts that Konta knew as Ravagers.
He had seen only a corpse of one before- a beast that appeared to look like a small, grotesque child with gnarled hands, needle-like teeth, and opposable thumbs on its feet- and had decided that the creature must have been communal in nature, for it seemed far too small to be a threat by itself. Konta's namesake for them came from the savage and ruthless displays they made to ward off predators. Konta had learned long ago that during Autumn, when Ravagers hunted to store food for the coming Winter, they would make their homes in a Weeping Willow as quickly as possible in order to take advantage of the cover it provided from both the rain and from other foes more dangerous than they. As an added precaution, Ravagers would gather the blood from the prey they caught and douse the tree in it, marking their territory and scaring away potential enemies.
Despite the information he had gleaned throughout the seasons, he still had little idea of what they were capable of when alive, since the last time he had seen a Weeping Willow marked so he was too young to accompany the hunters in their extermination. Konta wasn't sure what to expect, but Zanzu showed no hesitancy as he crossed over the bloodied boundary line. Bren was close on his heels, having lived long enough to have likely encountered a Ravager before. Bobo was injured and exhausted from a night of scouting, so he had taken up hiding nearby so that he could quickly return to the rest of the tribe when their mission was done, or if things turned ugly. Though Faygo and Konta had yet to hunt a Ravager before, they wasted no time in following their elders in. Konta hoped that the boldness Zanzu and Bren exhumed was an indication of their confidence in being able to set about this task.
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