by B C Penling
“You alright?” Ochre asked.
“Eh, I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse than this,” Tigthero replied honestly. He spotted Saia sitting upon the sled beside the tree. “Galloping gazelles!” he exclaimed. “What is that?”
Saia, taken aback, replied, “I’m Saia Forfelus.”
“It talks!”
“Of course she can talk,” Amara replied.
“It talks, too!”
“Forgive my son,” Ochre said. “He’s young and is ignorant of the world.”
“Hey, I’ve never seen one of them before,” Tigthero said, eyeballing Saia intensely. “It’s really pretty looking.”
Saia lifted an eyebrow. Since she became what she is, nobody had ever called her pretty. “Thank you,” she said humbly.
“Amara, Saia, this is Tigthero, my eldest son,” Ochre introduced. “Introductions aside, I’m taking Saia to Panthera to recover her strength and heal after an unfortunate encounter with a mountain bear.”
Tigthero shuddered. “Those things can be nasty. I’m thankful you’re still alive.”
“Your father saved me. I’m thankful for him.”
“Right place, right time,” Ochre said.
“Care if I accompany you on your return? I won’t be doing any more hunting today and I’ll probably be too sore to hunt tomorrow.” Tigthero shrugged with one shoulder.
“Certainly,” Ochre said. “Your company is welcomed. We were just finishing our break.”
“This will be interesting to see. It’s been a while since we have had a guest in our midst.”
“True, but they’ll welcome her.”
“No doubt!” Tigthero agreed. “She’s a treasure among beings. Unique in Ancienta, I believe. Maybe even the entirety of Dagan.”
“I agree,” Ochre and Amara said simultaneously.
Saia smiled demurely. She wasn’t used to being the center of positive attention and was speechless. If it weren’t for her coat, they would’ve seen her blush. Ochre picked up the vine in his mouth and began pulling.
“Where did you find her?” Tigthero asked.
Ochre looked at Tigthero with an annoyed sideways glance and mumbled, “Ichs radder hawrd to tawlk wif dish en myw mouf.”
Tigthero burst into laughter. He was slightly smaller and less muscular than Ochre, reminiscent of any pubescent creature in the awkward years preceding adulthood. “I know. That’s why I asked.”
Tigthero cleared his throat after Ochre narrowed his eyes at him. “Would you like me to?” he asked, motioning to the vine in Ochre’s mouth.
“Wiff yurr showder it mibee hawrd,” Ochre replied. “Bupht iph you insisht.” He dropped the vine.
Tigthero took the vine in his mouth and pulled it about five feet before stopping and gagging. He licked his lips and the back of his paw and, while sticking out his tongue, said, “That tastes disgusting! It makes me want to wretch. How can you stand that?”
Ochre shrugged and smirked at Saia. “You could always let her ride you.”
“Ride me?” Tigthero questioned.
“Certainly,” Ochre said nonchalantly. “Your back is large enough for her to lie on and it would make traveling faster and less gross tasting.”
“Uh, okay,” Tigthero said hesitantly. He didn’t want to offend Saia and make himself appear rude. He knew felions didn’t chastise their kin for things like that but they also didn’t commend it either. They frowned at the idea of being like a horse or diredog. He walked to Saia and lay down beside her.
“Grab my mane and pull yourself on,” Tigthero said.
“Mane? Is that what you call it?” Ochre teased, fluffing it with his huge paw.
“You looked this way when you were young, too!” Tigthero said defensively.
Saia giggled and pulled herself onto Tigthero’s back with a helping push from Amara. Tigthero stood up slowly and cautiously after she had situated herself. He checked over his shoulder.
“All good?”
“Yes,” she said. “Thank you, Tig.”
“Hey,” he said sharply. “I like that. Tig. Too bad your name is so short. I can’t come up with anything. Sigh sounds like I’m tired or bored. I-uh sounds like I’m at a loss of what to say.”
“It’s alright,” she giggled. “Saia is fine.”
“Well,” Amara said loudly, looking toward the Alvens. “This is my cue. I must go as I’m called.”
“Amara, you can’t leave yet,” Saia pleaded.
“You’re welcomed to accompany us farther,” Ochre said.
“When the Old Man calls, I must follow,” she said. “I’m grateful for the offer. I’ll have to accept it at another time. Best wishes to you Saia, Ochre, Tigthero. Farewell!”
Amara spun around and dashed away from them. She leapt into the air and with a snap the wolf disappeared in a furious black cloud that swirled wildly and quickly dispersed. In her place was a large black eagle that was winging its way sunrest. It called out as it gained altitude.
“Wow,” Tigthero said loudly. “I was not expecting that.”
“I had no clue she could change,” Saia said quietly. “I didn’t know anything could do that. What is she, Ochre?”
“I think you’ll have to ask her whenever you see her next,” he replied. “I’m not entirely sure what she is but I don’t believe she’s fully wolf.”
“I hope I do see her again,” Saia said. Although not knowing her long, she missed Amara already.
“Well, let’s not waste any more time watching air,” Tigthero said. “Don’t fall off, okay?”
“I’ll try not to.”
The felions walked south at a swift pace. The grasses in Felis, at their tallest, were well over Ochre’s head. Saia discovered that, despite the appearance of an endless ocean of grass, there were well travelled pathways that wound their way in every direction. She noticed that all the pathways heading north or south were wider than the runs that intersected them perpendicularly. They walked straight through the night at a steady pace. Saia managed to fall asleep on Tigthero’s back, lulled from the gentle rocking of his walk, and didn’t wake until the early pre-wake hour before Sunwake showed itself. Thrushes trilled happily, welcoming the return of light. The grass was shorter than it had been, reaching only the felions’ shoulders. In the distance, from over a hill, a thin wisp of smoke issued from an unseen fire. It rose into the sky and diminished.
“Is that Panthera?” Saia asked.
“It is,” Tigthero said over his shoulder. “Good morning to you.”
She smiled back at him. She was pleased to be close to their destination so she wouldn't have to burden Tigthero any longer. It took half the day to reach the smoke that seemed only a short distance away early that morning. Saia’s realization of the vastness of the Plains of Felis emerged and with it, a sense of home. The remoteness of Panthera was how she felt when she lived with humans; alone in the middle of nowhere, as stand-alone as the maple they rested beneath, as solitary as the eagle flying. She felt a familiarity with the felion village and as they descended the hill and into another life, Saia felt at home. Something she hadn’t felt for many years.
CHAPTER 13
AMONG PANTHERIANS
Excavated into the hills of the felion village were many caves they used as homes. Felion cubs ran around from cave to cave, tumbling and growling at one another as they played. Ochre chuckled at their antics.
“It’s right after cat-nap,” he said to Saia. “They’re always this bouncy and playful.”
“Ochre! Ochre!” A small gray cub bounded up and pounced on Ochre’s leg. “I missed you!”
“And I, you, young Thera,” Ochre wrapped his paw around the cub and rubbed his mouth on her head.
“Did you have a nice…?” The cub paused in midsentence and cocked her head. “What is that on your back, Tigthero?” she exclaimed.
“Not what,” Ochre corrected. “This is Saia and she’ll be staying with us.”
“Oh,” Thera cooed. “It’s nice to me
et you Saia!”
Before Saia could answer, Thera turned tail and bounded away to tackle another cub.
In a cave near the middle of the village was where Ochre led them. Tigthero laid down beside a heaping pile of hides onto which Saia slid. Her leg throbbed with dull pain as she moved into a more comfortable position. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been and whatever the Old Man of the Winds gave her seemed to help. She was on the mend more rapidly than anyone expected.
Tigthero moved to the wall and slumped down with a stretch and a yawn.
“Thank you for the ride.”
“It was no problem,” Tigthero replied.
Ochre had gone to inform the other felions that they had a guest and left Tigthero in charge of Saia’s care.
“Where’s your cave?” Saia asked Tigthero.
“It’s right here,” he replied. “You’re lying on my bed.”
“Oh, thank you for the use of it,” Saia said. “You’ve shown me so much kindness even though I'm a stranger.”
“As I said before, it’s no problem at all.” He smiled kindly at her. His hazy gray eyes were subtle in their gaze in a tired, dreamy way. “Why did you leave your town?”
“I was exiled for being…” Saia took a deep breath. “I’m different from everyone else. People were always mean to me, treated me poorly because of this.” She tugged on her fur a little.
“I don’t see a problem with that.”
“That’s not the only problem. I was in the woods and people my age began harassing me, throwing rocks, and all these animals came out of nowhere and started attacking them. It wasn’t me though. I don’t think it was, anyways.”
“So you might be able to call animals?” Tigthero asked, his ears perked up.
Saia shrugged. “Maybe, but I greatly doubt it.”
“Hmm,” Tigthero thought. “Perhaps you can call my lunch to me next time I go hunting. I might not get kicked then.” He smiled when Saia chuckled at his remark.
Ochre reentered the room and addressed Saia. “They all know you’re here, Saia, and welcome you. Whenever you’re hungry let me know and someone will bring you food.” He turned to Tigthero. “If you need hides to sleep on you may borrow some from my bed.” He turned and left.
Tigthero stretched leisurely and yawned.
“You know, there’s enough room for both of us.”
“I’m not going to be treated like some kind of pet, am I?” Tigthero raised a brow suspiciously.
“No,” she giggled. “I was hoping more like a brother.”
“Oh,” Tigthero thought for a moment. “I think I could accept that then.” He stood up, walked to his bed and flopped onto his side by her feet. “This is so much better,” he said with a yawn.
“You and Ochre are very kind.”
“You don’t want to get disciplined by him. It’s not fun,” Tigthero stated honestly. “I’ve been there many times in my youth. Wish I would’ve learned better.”
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be seventy-five in a few months,” Tigthero said proudly. “How about you?”
“Seventy-five? I’m only nineteen.”
“Ah, same age as my sister. And much less annoying, might I add.”
“The cub that came up to us, Thera, is nineteen?” Saia asked.
“The bouncing obnoxious fur ball of destruction,” Tigthero said. “That’s her.”
“Certainly she can’t be that bad.” Saia laughed.
“No, but she’s a sibling and nearly all siblings are annoying in more ways than one,” he said. “You’re still close to them and love them, but they get on your nerves. Especially when they decided they’re going to use your prized hide as their claw scratcher.”
“I know the feeling. I had a younger brother who always bothered me,” Saia said. “He broke my porcelain doll. I hated him for it but that was before I changed into whatever I am now. He stopped coming near me. I wish I wouldn’t have taken him for granted when I had him in my life.”
“Many things are taken for granted, Saia, but it doesn’t matter now as long as a lesson was learned,” Tigthero said softly. “Go ahead and rest now.” He yawned. “That’s my plan, anyways. You’re safe here with us.” He rolled onto his back, stretched out and relaxed with all four paws in the air. His eyes closed and a deep sleep followed.
Saia lay awake listening to Tigthero’s rhythmic breathing. Her eyelids became heavy and she was slowly lulled to sleep.
When she awoke, she was alone in the small cavern. Tigthero had gone, perhaps out hunting or indulging in other felion activities like sunbathing. Her stomach grumbled and she was painfully aware of how hungry she was. She rolled onto her side to ease the emptiness inside and noticed that there were paintings upon the cave wall. She must’ve been more tired than she realized for she didn’t notice them earlier. They started at the bottom of the wall and closest to the doorway. Tiny cub paw prints, smaller than the palms of her hands, began the border at the bottom of the room and slowly increased in size. The fifth paw print had a picture of a cub beside a mouse. She assumed it was Tigthero’s first kill. At the thirtieth paw print there was a silhouette felion with the scraggly beginnings of a mane. She giggled. At fifty was a more mature felion chasing down prey, an antelope. At seventy-five was a drawing of a felion away from a group of felions. Seventy-five was the year that felions left their family home. The thought of Tigthero leaving made her sad.
Tigthero walked through the cave opening. In his mouth were sticks and impaled upon them were prairie rats. They weren’t the size of the average rat that lived in Ouris but larger and about the size of a chicken. He placed the rats on a wooden plate that was beside the bed that was likely placed there before he went hunting.
“Thought you might be hungry,” he said. “I cooked them over the fire. I assume that’s how you like them since you lived with humans. I learned they cooked everything.”
“Thank you,” Saia said, with a hint of apprehensiveness. She had never thought of eating rats before and it seemed rather gross. Not wanting to be rude, she pulled some of the meat off the cooked rat closest to her.
“I’m pretty sure they’re cooked thoroughly,” Tigthero added. “If they aren’t I’ll put them back on the village fire. Oh, and they taste good, by the way.”
She opened her mouth and bit down upon the crispy, slightly charcoaled meat. She chewed on it, savoring every amount of juiciness. The flavor was unlike anything she had ever eaten before. It was sweet like honey and mint, and more tender than chicken.
“You’re right,” Saia said. “They are tasty.”
She forgot about them being a kind of rat and satiated her hunger while conversing with Tigthero. She learned about the prairie rat and how they were very different from the garbage rats in the city. Since the prairie rats actively foraged for food and didn’t feed on trash, they were healthier and leaner.
“I never would’ve eaten a rat before today,” Saia admitted. “All rats seemed so dirty to me. It would’ve been odd to cook up a creature that rummages through rubbish bins in the city.”
“You know what’s really odd to me,” Tigthero said, flicking his tail. “Why do humans have to mill, mix, then cook wheat and other grains? I mean, why don’t they just eat them straight from the stalk as with other herbivorous and omnivorous animals? Why must they make things more complicated than they have to be?”
Saia chuckled at his remark. He made a valid point. If humans ate grains straight from the stalk or with fewer preparatory measures then it would’ve been less time consuming. And then if that was the case, when she was younger it would’ve saved her the time, and jammed fingers, it took to mill the wheat into flour.
“I often wondered that, too,” she replied.
“I always thought they were pulling my tail. It’d be like me killing my prey, cutting up little strips, drying the meat, and then eating it.”
“They do that too,” Saia said. “It’s called jerky.”
�
�That doesn’t make any sense,” Tigthero grumbled. “It’s meat. Just eat it.”
“It helps the meat last longer. It’s salted and dehydrated by the fire.”
Tigthero gave her a perplexed expression. “Why, though?” He mulled over the idea of jerky. “Just catch it fresh. Doesn’t it taste better when it’s freshly caught? Why ruin it by drying it into tree bark?”
Saia giggled at his questions. “It tastes pretty good, actually. You need to try it.”
“No, thank you! Are you ill? Fresh meat is way better than chewing on something that’s dried like hides.”
She enjoyed watching him attempt to make any sense whatsoever of jerky. She thought the grimace he made was actually kind of adorable. She wouldn’t mind laying there forever, watching him scowl with confusion. For the first time in a long time, she felt content and it wasn’t just because her stomach was full. She felt wanted again. She felt like she mattered. She felt cared for. And that made her soul at peace.
CHAPTER 14
DEAR DEPARTURE
The Warisai were pursued up to the border of the Gour Desert by Barator’s soldiers. Only a few dozen were left alive by the time they set foot on the sand. What awaited them was horror: the gourts. When the Warisai had crossed the Gour they had slayed the smaller cacti in their path. Now, the adult gourts were furious.
Sandy tendrils erupted from the ground and wrapped around the retreating Warisai. They were pulled beneath the sand and to their long, agonizing death. Whatever they preyed upon was stored inside the cacti where they were digested slowly, fully aware of what was happening. Their bodies were paralized by a neurotoxin while being consumed from the outside, in.
The victory at Meridsani had been swift with the help of Zen’s white fire. For now, it appeared to be safe. Guards were posted on the catwalks throughout the night and many nights to follow. Sentries perched themselves strategically in the towering trees and rocky outcroppings of the cliff, ready to alert others with a series of mimicked mard cries. The rebelvolfs were put on patrol.
Soldiers within the city walls rested in case of another offensive attack from the Warisai. The only people working in Meridsani were the women and children. They were fletchers and bowyers, saddlers, armorsmiths and weaponsmiths. They repaired armor and saddles, sharpened and repaired weapons, restrung and crafted replacement bows, and built arrows while the children delivered their needed supplies.