The fatherhood of Hash'ack chapter one
There comes a time for every Yautja, when the need to grow becomes inescapable, the urge to become more is great. But after that there comes the need to make more, a pup. Something deep is triggered within the mind of a male Yautja the need for a pup. An immortality of a sort is granted, passing their skills, their talents and the honour of both them and their clan.
The hero of this tale is a Yautja named Hash'ack, a Yautja approaching his 50th year, young for his race. Since he was a small child he had been an accomplished hunter. As he stood there, in his quarters he looked upon his wall adjusting his most prized trophies from his most accomplished hunts. He wanted his renown to be as greatly displayed as possible.
He was singing to himself. Not what humans would call song, but a melodious series of purrs, clicks and deep growls, but beautiful nonetheless. His senses were working harder than they had done on any hunt; a wonderous musk reached his senses. His door opened and there stood a fine example of a Yautja female smaller than he was, but tall for a female of the species. She, unlike most females approached him, though her standards are unusually high which is even more surprising given the young age of Hash'ack.
She quickly walked over to him and used her smaller mandibles to lock onto his, he immediately knew she wasn't completely satisfied with him. He began to push him, hard. If she got him on his back, he would not have a chance of mating. They struggled for what seemed like hours to a Yautja but it was only seconds, Hash'ack had grabbed the back of the female's knees and thrown them both forward and onto her back. He had a mate.
After the act had been finished she left, she was both satisfied and with child. Not a click or a purr had been exchanged, merely growls and roars.
Once Hash'ack has been left alone with his thoughts, many things crossed his mind. "that was good, I wonder what sex the pup will be, will is be a swift and stealthy female assassin, a strong and mighty warlord of a male" to "what made her choose one as young as myself?"
Dozens of hunts followed that day, for months he thought of nothing but the birth of his first pup, wanting to hone every skill, every sense, and every niche of talent that a hunter could have he wanted perfection, a strong heritage for his pup. Until that day, one fateful day, 5 months later, his mate has been killed. The blood of a hard meat had caused her end, the pup had been saved by a hair's breadth, her final thoughts were of her pup, her final words asking whether it had survived. She smiled as well as a Yautja can smile, as she heard her pup's first shriek