Eleven
Recounting on the events of the previous day, Luar'ka rolled on her side on the floor and eyed the ovalular shape of the room. She absentmindedly brushed her claws through her thick down, noting with some surprise that it seemed to have grown a bit longer in recent weeks. She remembered Peregrine's down had always been quite long. Maybe a proper diet and exercise were stimulating hers to grow more quickly than before. Yet another thing she had to thank the Yautja for, it seemed.
So she'd made a friend, huh? That was kind of interesting. If the Yautja allowed her to see S'iirai again, then it would be even more interesting.
She groaned; her whole body ached like mad after yesterday's encounter with the Bad Blood. Her neck throbbed painfully with the discolored bruise lingering there and her entire left hand had turned dark purple from the bite. She had a sinking feeling that the marks were becoming infected. But she had no way of telling any of the others this fact since she was yet again locked in the storeroom.
Sitting up, she moved across the floor over to the window and looked out. She'd never noticed while they rocketed through the void of space, but the windows had a slight orange tint to them. She could see the vibrant forests of Illmianyar just barely out of her reach and she already found herself craving that dense soil again.
She didn't jump when she heard the door slide open. Instead, she turned, expecting to see Kar'kha standing there waiting for her. She was surprised to see the remaining Yautja she had yet to meet, Ikthya'de's near identical brother. She was able to see from the lack of a twisting scar on the right arm that it was indeed not her normal language mentor. He approached her carefully, carrying a dark box with him as he stood in front of her. He nodded and clicked something she didn't understand, motioning her to turn and face him. She heeded his request and stepped away from the window as he knelt in front of her and set the box down, rummaging through it for what he needed. She recognized it as a sort of medicinal collection when she saw the supplies in it. He pulled out a small canister of some kind, taking the lid off of it to reveal a clear paste of some variety within. He dipped three fingers into the paste and ladled out a small glob of it, setting the container down and looking up at her, reaching for her left hand. She obliged and watched as he smeared the paste over her distressed muscles. His hand was easily enormous compared to hers and she could see him being extra careful to avoid gripping her too hard as he worked and rubbed the salve against her skin. When he'd finished with her hand, he scooped a little more paste out of the tin and repeated the process on her bruised neck and the healing gash on her temple, being mindful of both his strength and his claws as he gently covered each wound with a fair amount of the healing salve. Luar'ka was hesitant to think so, but it felt like the salve—or whatever it was— was already beginning to get to work.
"It...it kinda feels good..." she mumbled.
He looked up at her, his deep-set eyes almost glowing in the low light. He let out a low, clicking rumble and flexed his mandibles a few times before lowering his gaze back to his task. He reached into the box and pulled out a small wad of black tape of some kind. Setting the roll itself against his mouth, his mandibles held it firmly in place and she watched in amazement as he used his free hand to unroll a long strip of tape from the base before his tusks jabbed it firmly, slicing it. He wrapped the strip of tape around her hand tightly, but not so tight that it cut off circulation. Without any adhesive, the tape remained fastened to her hand and Luar'ka found that she felt no pain whatsoever as she raised her hand to her eyes to inspect it curiously. She turned back to him as he removed the roll from his mandibles' grip and set it back in the kit.
"Thank you," she said somewhat uncertainly. She still hadn't technically been introduced to this Yautja, despite having seen him a few times before. He sat back in a hunched position, eying her blankly. He tilted his head at her, blinking slowly, "Than'ja." he rumbled.
Luar'ka took a second to realize he'd just told her his name. She jolted slightly and nodded, "Right. I'm Luar'ka. I haven't met you yet, so...it's nice to meet you officially, Than'ja."
His upper mandibles raised away from his mouth ever-so-slightly, but she could see from how his body relaxed that it was a friendly gesture. He reached around for the med-kit again and opened it up once more, motioning for her to sit. She did so quickly and watched as he pulled all of the articles out of it, aligning them neatly on the floor. Most of the equipment, she'd never seen before. He gestured to the small lineup of medical articles, looking up at her briefly. He paused over the canister of salve he'd just applied to her hand, meeting her gaze briefly to see if she was paying attention; "Ch'ka'yde." he said slowly.
Luar'ka realized he was trying to teach her about medical treatment. She furrowed her brow, concentrating on what he said to her as she repeated the word. He nodded and moved his hand over what appeared to be the syringes used on her after her scuffle with the Bad Blood; "Mbi'hde."
He reached down and picked up a vial of bright blue liquid which he held over the syringe. He did the same with a vial of silver liquid, which she recognized as the one that had been used on her. He indicated the silver liquid and then very softly reached out to place his hand on Luar'ka's head, stroking her down so gently that she almost didn't feel his touch. She knew he was trying to tell her something and she wracked her mind for the correct interpretation, "Uh...soft...no...uh, gentle. Gentle medicine?" she ventured. Encouraged by his nod, she continued, "medicine that...doesn't hurt. It didn't hurt me yesterday." she confirmed. He started purring loudly at her response and she smiled excitedly, thrilled that she could translate his actions. He set the vial down and picked up the blue one, this time reaching out to grasp her uninjured arm. To her surprise, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and squeezed somewhat roughly, not enough to hurt exactly, but enough to make her wince. He held the blue vial aloft again, pressing his sharp talons into her flesh. She grit her teeth as he moved the vial closer to her face, his expression set grimly. She frowned, "Hard medicine...," she mumbled, "medicine that hurts. It's painful, is that right?"
He nodded once, still purring, but at a slightly lower register. "Miin'bko," he said, gesturing toward the blue vial. Luar'ka nodded once and focused again as he shifted to more medical items. For the next hour and a half, Than'ja sat patiently with her, instructing her on basic medicines and how to use them. He even showed her how to fill a syringe and where to inject it depending on common points of injury. For example, he pantomimed an injury to his head and pointed to the spot of 'impact', thereby telling her that the silver fluid must be injected directly into the point where the injury was sustained. He also had her practice wrapping the strange black bandages around his arm to measure for the right level of tightness. His methods of teaching were actually quite similar to those of his brother and, Luar'ka found, no less effective. She was beginning to grasp that perhaps the Yautja aboard the small shuttle didn't seem to despise her as much as she'd thought. Or perhaps she'd impressed them with how she'd fought against that angry Yautja the day before. In any event, she wasn't complaining about the company.
Once he'd run her through the various supplies several times, he tested her on what was what and how to use it. Following a few simple mistakes, Luar'ka was able to recall most all of what he'd been able to teach her through the language barrier and heaved a sigh of relief when he rumbled deep in his chest and nodded at her, packing away the supplies into the kit. She expected him to replace it back to his utility belt, but to her surprise, he slid the kit across the floor to her. She eyed him curiously and he spread his upper mandibles, nodding once in her direction.
"I...I can keep it?" she ventured. He picked it up and placed it in her hand, grumbling softly. He was in the process of standing up when the door opened, revealing Kar'kha and Ikthya'de standing there expectantly. Ikthya'de wandered in and clapped a hand on his twin's shoulder, shaking him roughly. Kar'kha moved past them and stood before his apprentice, glaring down at her. His dark expression caused Luar'ka's pulse to pound in her ears in fear, believing she was in trouble. Maybe she was learning too much from them. He was holding a short blade in his hand, motioning her to her feet with the other hand. She obeyed and followed him out of the room, through the misty, humid corridors toward the exit. She watched as he opened the hatch and lowered the ramp leading to the ground. He descended with a backward glance to her, indicating she follow him. Luar'ka swallowed nervously and trailed after him quickly. He paused just outside the ship, turning quickly, his tendrils swishing with his movement. He faced her sternly and handed her the blade; "Dah'Nagara," he rumbled out. Luar'ka took the blade and he stepped back perpendicularly to her, ((Your...hunt...begins...)) he spoke slowly, carefully and enunciated every syllable of his language. He wasn't sure how in depth her studies with Ikthya'de had been, nor how much studying she'd been doing on her own since he presented her with that screen. However he was barely able to hide his surprise when her face suddenly darkened with determination and she held the hilt of the blade tightly at her side, facing him squarely; "Ki'sei." she said firmly.
She actually understood him!
((You have until zenith. Hunt for yourself.))
He gave her a second to work through what he'd said, struggling to hide his amazement when she appeared to not only understand what he was telling her, but also when she replied; "Chiva-de ky'var. Kar'kha ki'sei." she declared. She stood to her full height, her expression set and her eyes hardened. She even understood the nature of what he was telling her to do. This was her first trial. He would see if she could bring down her own food. She was catching on, but she had much left to learn and not much time in which to do it. They would be ordered to return to the Jag'dja'd atoll immediately following the visit to Illmianyar. Kar'kha knew she had to be better prepared to handle that trip. Certainly, her communication skills were improving rapidly, despite the lapse in pronunciation from time to time, but she needed to learn how to fight, how to hunt, and how to kill.
"Thin-de le'hsaun 'aloun'myin/bpe-de gka-de hsou-depaya," he said to her. He could see she didn't understand that much all at once, but her resolve never weakened past the slightly crinkled brow. Perhaps she could sense that he'd said something important to her for her to remember. In any event, she moved past him, tucking her wings down tight against her back and turning the blade behind her as she prepared to take off. She glanced behind her briefly at him.
And then she was gone. He glimpsed her for just a moment before she vanished into the trees, the branches swaying back and forth serving as the only betrayal of her presence there.
/ooo/
It actually took longer to track her than Kar'kha had been expecting. He was surprised at how quickly she was proving to be capable of moving. From his vantage in the trees, he listened carefully for her telltale screeching. It was still early in this planet's rotation. She had until the zenith of this rotation to make a kill, or else go hungry. Truth be told, Kar'kha was a little miffed with himself; his brothers had seemingly willingly thrown themselves into roles of education for the young female, with Ikthya'de sharpening her tongue and Than'ja sharpening her mind. Now it was up to Kar'kha to sharpen her body. She had to at least bring back one trophy to the clan ship. He didn't care what it was; but it had to be something. Anything to show that she was capable of hunting. He was too deep in this now to abandon her. If she failed, the only road ahead of her ended in u'sl-kwe.
He finally managed to track her to a narrow ridge and he was starting to understand why Yautja of the past had often failed to track Avians on their homeworld, let alone bring one down. Even as a suckling, she was difficult to follow. She never stuck to one path for any extended duration and she constantly wove back and forth along her chosen trail, creating several heat paths that confused his sensors. Her scent was even difficult to track because as she tore through shrubs and bushes randomly, she picked up scents and musk from countless other small animals. He was genuinely curious what following her while she was in flight would be like, assuming she ever learned how. That was one thing he knew for certain he could not teach her.
She finally stopped her erratic zigzag pattern and he watched from the trees as she crouched low in the bushes, stalking a mid-sized mammal of some kind. Since hunting was typically forbidden on Illmianyar, upon request by their sensitive and occasionally uppity allies, there wasn't much documentation of the fauna on this planet worth noting. Kar'kha had no idea what sort of creature this was that his ward was stalking. He only figured that allowing her to hunt for food would be okay to clear past the rules of his kind. It wasn't like she was armed beyond that Dah'Nagara he'd given her. However, he could see that the creature she was eying was covered in short, stiff spines. He sighed inwardly. She was going to have to learn this one the hard way. He looked away, shaking his head in apathy. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he heard a shocked and agonized screech rend the air and turned back to see the spiny mammal was gone and his apprentice was lying curled on the ground, snarling to herself. She rolled to her feet, hissing and beating her wings in agitation as she used her teeth to rip the residual spines out of her arms. She got them all out and scraped her foot claws along the ground, venting her anger. Then, she took off again in a random direction and he lost sight of her. Deciding that was enough stalking of his own apprentice, Kar'kha finally turned back and returned to the ship to await her return, hopefully with something in her grasp.
He made his way back on board the shuttle and into the control room where he found Ikthya'de sitting there monitoring the radar while examining some broken shoulder plates.
"So, how is she faring out there?" Ikthya'de asked breezily as Kar'kha sat down at the other computer with a sigh.
"Not well. I am going to forbid her food until she can bring down her own kill."
"If that is not asking for trouble, I cannot say what is." Ikthya'de mumbled, "Do not forget; the three of us were never taught how to hunt by our lonesome."
"We were also in controlled environments. We could not escape, nor could our prey, yet the challenge remained."
"And every time we failed, our sire would be there to knock some sense into us, one way or another."
This was said with a delighted chuckle as Ikthya'de used a small wedge to pop a dent out of his lightweight armor. Kar'kha glanced over at him and then reached up behind his head, yanking the air hoses out of his mask and peeling it from his face with a heavy sigh. He was looking forward to getting back home and having it modified to fit better; the thing was far too tight against his face and constricted his mandibles horribly. This in turn made the various functions performed by their movements difficult to access. He'd been given his mask before an unexpected growth spurt hit only a season later, rendering it highly uncomfortable to wear.
"If you would trust me with it, I could start work on it right now." Ikthya'de grumbled from his control board, noticing his younger sibling's discomfort. Kar'kha rumbled something in irritated reply, but otherwise ignored him. Ikthya'de was talented as a budding metal worker; this couldn't be argued. However it was going to be a while before he would trust his brother with his prized mask, the first one he'd received and the one he'd completed his chiva with. It was kind of hard to let it go when one stopped to consider these facts.
"I wonder how she will handle the Jag'dja'd atoll?" Kar'kha muttered, changing the subject. Ikthya'de noticed, but let it slide, "Is it more the other way around, rather? How will the Jag'dja'd atoll handle her? Apprentices are taken from time to time, certainly. However, rarely are they as young as she. They are also rarely female, from what I understand. Was Da'dtou-di the last?"
"You would know that better than I, mei'hswei. She was long gone by the time I came to the Jag'dja'd atoll. She was not even affiliated with our clan, so how would I know?"
Kar'kha leaned back, tilting his head toward the ceiling with a rumbling sigh, "Where are Thwei'ja and Than'ja?" he asked.
"Than'ja is not feeling well. He is resting. Thwei'ja is not here."
Kar'kha blinked in surprise, "Our healer is feeling poorly? This is a bit disconcerting."
"He forbids himself rest. He believes he can do without."
Kar'kha groaned and leaned forward again, "Our mission is nearly complete, regardless. Soon we will return. Perhaps then, he will reconsider."
Ikthya'de nodded once, clicking his mandibles as he did. He jerked his head in the direction of the exit, "It would be wise to check on your student, lest something decide she would make a good meal."
"There is nothing carnivorous on this planet, mei'hswei." Kar'kha said with mild irritation in his voice as he stalked out of the control room. Even so, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to check up on her.
He went outside, scanning the surrounding terrain for anything worthwhile. He saw no sign of her, nor any sign that showed she'd returned to this spot since departing it on her ky'var. And with Thwei'ja still missing, they were rooted in this clearing for a while, yet. Kar'kha had been forced by his sire to develop at least scant patience, making him somewhat abnormal. The same went for his brothers as well. Me'vi-te was well-known for his unique hunting tactics of sitting in wait for substantial prey to pass him by and then ambushing them at their lowest guard. It was a trick he'd picked up watching animals hunt on N'-ithya and it served him remarkably well. His goal was to pass the trick onto his progeny. So far, though, only Than'ja seemed interested. While Kar'kha admitted no interest in this unusual technique, he had found the increased patience did wonders for his hunts, as well as for the in-between periods of recuperation his kind occasionally desperately required. With great power and prowess came greater necessity for rest when the need inevitably arose. As such, he chose to view this quiet period waiting for his apprentice to return as a rest period. He sat down on the ground, his body relaxed, but his mind remaining alert. Only on a planet such as Illmianyar could he consider affording such a luxury as relaxing.
Gradually, the zenith of the rotation approached, much more rapidly than on the homeworld given the shorter rotational period of the planet. He looked up at the blazing sun in the sky warming his hide and sending a rush of energy through his system, the heat upon which the Yautja positively thrived. Grunting, he got to his feet and tossed his head, scanning the forest around him once more. Movement to his left caught his attention, goading him to turn. His fists clenched when he spied his apprentice stumbling out of the bushes, empty-handed, soaking wet, and covered in mud. She staggered over to him, her eyes low to the ground as she moved slowly past him. Her entire being radiated with shame and humiliation and it wasn't hard to see why. She'd failed yet again to hunt. He watched as she moved clumsily up the ramp and into the ship. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. This was not going well. He could only give her so many chances before she was deemed useless to the Yautja. It was too late to take her back to N'-ithya, but he supposed they could leave her on Illmianyar if worst came to worst. He didn't want to kill her if he could help it.
He moved up the ramp and entered the ship, turning the corner. He paused abruptly when he saw her standing there holding the Dah'Nagara. She handed it up to him silently and he noted with faint surprise that unlike the rest of her, the weapon was shiny and spotless. She'd cleaned it before returning. He took it carefully and returned his gaze to her, motioning for her to go and clean up. She obeyed without a word, moving off down the corridor and the misty atmosphere swallowed her up in seconds. Kar'kha's grip tightened on the hilt of the blade and rumbled deep inside his chest.
One more chance. He could only give her one more chance.
/ooo/
That evening, Kar'kha enjoyed some downtime in his quarters, cleaning and polishing his weapons. His collections of either weapons or trophies weren't very substantial yet, but he added to both every time he went on hunts and missions with his brothers. He eyed his latest acquisition with pride; a glaive made of gleaming white bone for the blades and a smooth metallic handle. It had been his prize during his last mission with his siblings; taking down a murderous Bad Blood who had seemingly made it his life's work to hunt down and savagely murder Unbloods during their chiva. Six potential clan warriors had forfeited their lives against an opponent who far outmatched them, and he knew it, too. According to reports, they'd fought hard and died with honor, but even so, it was still a blow, and still infuriating. Kar'kha had ultimately been the one to overpower the monstrous Yautja, running his Ki'cti-pa straight through his heart. As his prize, the dishonored Yautja's weapon now belonged to him.
Kar'kha paused as he examined a few new nicks in his gauntlets, his keen hearing listening to the ambient sounds of the shuttle. A hiss of steam from somewhere below, the comforting woosh as a door slid open not far away; such sounds usually went unnoticed by him these days, especially now that most of his time was spent on ships like this. He had virtually no standing in the clan right now, with few trophies to his name and only a handful of noteworthy honorable kills. He wasn't doing too badly for a Youngblood, but he could definitely be doing better. One of his aspirations this season was to finally be cleared by the clan leaders to mate. If he impressed them enough with his accomplishments, he'd be granted permission to take part in the mating ceremony for the first time. Of course, that was only half the battle. The other half was convincing a female to even give him a chance in the first place. They were choosy beyond all belief and more often than not, Youngbloods like him went completely ignored for several seasons. Not to mention their temperaments that demanded caution from any and all males; he'd been unfortunate enough to greet his eldest sister by accident several seasons prior just a few rotations before the ceremony was due to begin. Just by being in the same breathing vicinity, she'd seen fit to slash a decent sized scar into his side before smashing him against the wall. Fortunately, of his two living sisters, the other one wasn't nearly as aggressive toward him and treated him fairly civilly whenever they met, which was infrequent. Thankfully, he didn't have to deal with his sisters very often and, truthfully, he preferred his brothers' company anyway. He was closer to them and felt more comfortable.
He sighed, standing up and replacing the short swords and spears he'd been cleaning to their brackets on the wall. He attached his mask to its fixture and secured his armor in their designated storage containers. This was a nightly ritual for him; cleaning his weapons and armor before stowing them away and then, depending on the night, walking the corridors one final time before bedding down for rest. The time it took to complete one rotation on the homeworld was the equivalent of two N'-ithyan solar rotations, or so he'd heard. He didn't sleep very often as a result. He intended to tonight, though. The following rotation promised to be a busy one as they prepared to return to the clan ship.
He sighed, stretching his mandibles in a yawn as he moved out of his chambers, stepping into the darkened hallway. He could hear his brothers arguing about something in the chambers they shared, and their voices grew louder as he got closer. He paused when a loud thump resonated through the corridor, followed by Ikthya'de yelling angrily at Than'ja. Kar'kha shook his head with a groan and moved on, too weary to get involved right now. It was more than likely something trivial, such as Than'ja moving one of Ikthya'de's tools or something. The metal worker in training was surprisingly particular about the placement of his supplies. They'd work it out on their own with only a few minor bumps and bruises to show for it and end the evening as comrades once again like they always did.
He passed Thwei'ja's chambers, taking care to move extra quietly, lest he disturb their cantankerous leader. He only dared to tread normally again once he'd gotten out of earshot of the door. As he neared the storeroom, however, his eyes widened in surprise and he hurried forward, pausing at the open door and peering inside.
The storeroom was empty; Luar'ka was gone!
Alarmed, he stepped inside, turning this way and that, including toward the ceiling as he searched for his apprentice. He trilled softly, his trills mixed with concerned rumbling as he concluded that the storeroom was indeed empty. He crooned a little louder, calling her out if she were still there, but even with this effort, he knew he was wasting his time. There was no answer. Nothing. She was just gone. Whirling, he left the room and quickly searched the ship, checking anywhere she might have hidden herself. He also checked the water station, since he hadn't seen her after he ordered her to clean herself following her unsuccessful hunt. Again, nothing. Trilling concernedly, he struggled to think of anywhere else she might have gone. He went back to his brothers' chambers and pounded on the door. It was quiet now, so the fight must have stopped. Ikthya'de answered, opening the door and appearing surprised to see Kar'kha standing there.
"Me'hswei," he greeted in confusion, "What is it?"
"Luar'ka is not in the storeroom," Kar'kha explained, "Did she come to you?"
Ikthya'de tilted his head, glancing back toward Than'ja who was sitting on the floor with a collection of medical texts surrounding him. The older Yautja looked up curiously, "You have lost your apprentice?" he asked in bewilderment.
"I had thought the door was locked." Kar'kha answered quietly, aware of how pathetic that excuse was. Ikthya'de grumbled low, his eyes narrowing, "We depart at daybreak, Kar'kha," he reminded him grimly, "You had best find her, and swiftly."
"Perhaps she ventured outside," Than'ja volunteered, flipping through a stack of documents, "The atmosphere in this ship is proving a challenge to adjust to. I have heard her wheezing on occasion."
Kar'kha hurried off, not even bothering to thank his brothers for the information. He headed for the main hatchway and when the sweet scent of fresh, unfamiliar air filled his senses, he knew that they were probably right; Luar'ka appeared to have crept outside. He descended the ramp quickly, looking around anxiously and still spying nothing.
Well, almost nothing. He blinked quickly and growled low in his throat when he saw Thwei'ja standing several yards away, arms folded and eyes glaring off into the trees. He stood mostly motionless, the mild breeze ruffling his long tendrils slightly. He acknowledged Kar'kha's presence without addressing him at first. Clenching his fists, Kar'kha stalked forward until he was standing abreast of his wayward comrade. Thwei'ja grunted, glancing briefly at him before returning his gaze to the trees.
"She ran off sometime ago, Kar'kha. I could not catch her in time."
Kar'kha just stared at him in mild disbelief and confusion, turning to look toward the forest as if expecting to see her reappear.
"Why are you here, Thwei'ja?" he asked quietly.
But his leader didn't answer, instead turning around and heading back into the ship. Kar'kha listened to Thwei'ja's footsteps dying away before focusing again on the darkness around him, standing motionless with his hands clenched at his sides as he scanned the trees, his sensitive eyes searching for any movement out of the ordinary. What in the world had possessed her to take off like this? Especially without clearance? He growled low in his throat, his mandibles flaring slightly as his anger rose; she was, by all points, still a suckling. However, she was quickly proving to be more trouble than she was worth, it seemed. Constantly trying his patience, constantly defying him, and of course, failing to hunt on her own. Granted, he hadn't had much time with which to instruct her properly, but he knew that he had no time left to do so. They were bound for the Jag'dja'd atoll within a few hours. If she didn't return before then, they'd leave without her. Kar'kha had no choice in the matter; his priority was his clan.
Still, he had to at least try something to find her. Inhaling deeply, he flared his mandibles wide and bellowed a roar toward the trees. It was a short one, lasting only a couple of seconds. It was ka'rik'na, a special call used by his kind to summon others of the clan to their location. He hadn't taught her the concept yet, but she'd proven her intelligence to him several times over, now. He was certain she'd know what the call meant. He knew his comrades wouldn't answer the call, as they were all aware of the reasoning behind it. All he needed was for Luar'ka to answer it.
He called again, holding out a few seconds longer this time. Blinking slowly, he trained his ears into the air, hearing the faint chirps of insects and the barely audible hum of the auxiliary engine within the ship. He let out one final roar, clacking his mandibles together and taking a step back. The spines along his forehead stiffened and he chuffed irritably, a low rumble resonating in his chest. He huffed out a sigh, shaking his head slowly as he turned back toward the ship.
He paused as a strange new sound rent the air, this one high pitched and unfamiliar to him. It drifted on the breeze into his hearing range and he turned around again, looking around for the source of the call. It was a high, rattling wail, almost like a bird of some kind. His voice grumbled at the back of his throat as he tossed his head, pleased to find himself surprised by her once again. It seemed she had a new hidden skill every time he tested her. He strode forward a few yards as the call sounded out again, closer to him this time. He returned it with another roar and waited, watching the trees.
Gradually, she appeared. His eyes narrowed as he struggled to quash the pride he felt at her response to the summon, something he hadn't taught her, but that she'd replied to instinctively. It was impressive. But now, he knew he needed to be angry at the breach of rules created during her escape outside the ship. As he stalked forward, she appeared fully through the trees and his sharp sense of smell picked up the distinct scent of blood emanating off of her in waves. His eyes widened as she staggered into the clearing, her entire front completely drenched in drying blood, her face dark from the splatter coating it. Her eyes glimmered feebly in the darkness and she let out a faint croak of exhaustion as she reached him in the clearing. Her black down was plastered to her head from the blood and she raised her eyes to him weakly, "H'chak...forgive me...for running..." she whispered.
Kar'kha regarded her in silent amazement. She was barely standing, clearly starving and still weakened from her ordeals back on N'-ithya. But even so, somehow, someway, she'd managed to bring down a substantial creature of some kind, which she now dragged behind her, leaving a grisly trail of blood in her wake. It looked like some sort of quadrupedal deer. Kar'kha was unfamiliar with the fauna of the planet and he couldn't be sure. But it was quite dead, its neck practically ripped out in ragged, bloody tatters. This would explain the blood; she'd used her own teeth to kill it. He noticed her feet were stained in blood as well. He hypothesized that she'd mounted the creature's back, using her foot claws to dig and gouge into its flanks while she attacked its vulnerable neck with her mouth and hand claws. When she hit a vein or an artery, the creature's lifeblood drained quickly onto her, and she was able to take it down. And now, she stood quivering before him, begging him for mercy for her transgression. He had no choice but to issue some sort of punishment. He was punishing himself already by hiding how his pride swelled at her first kill.
"Hma'mi-de," he answered, granting her forgiveness. She was still a youngling, he decided finally. For now, there would be no punishment. She was allowed a transgression here and there. The Paya knew how many rules he'd broken during his days as an Unblood. He gestured for her to get up, "Rrrrrreturrrrrrn...," he ground out.
Luar'ka heaved the carcass of the deer after her as she stumbled to the ramp. Her claws skidded and slipped on the smooth surface and she ground her teeth furiously as she struggled with the weight of her kill hindering her progress. Her chest heaving, her legs throbbing, her whole body aching like mad, she finally cleared the ramp and moved inside the ship, glancing over her shoulder as Kar'kha appeared. He reached down and snatched up her kill, motioning her toward the water station to wash the blood off. She obeyed wordlessly. He watched her go and then moved toward the storeroom, taking her kill along with him. When he arrived in the room, he removed a knife from the sheath at his thigh and bent down, digging the blade of the knife into the neck of the dead beast until he heard the satisfying crack of the spine separating. The head of the deer was small, but barely damaged. His apprentice had concentrated most of her attacks to the neck. He set about to flaying the hide and skin from the skull while he waited for Luar'ka to return. Peeling the skin, muscle, and sinew away from the skull with precision care, he set these aside and carefully detached the rest of the spine from the now revealed skull. He took out another satchel attached to his utility belt and pulled out a narrow, sharp gouging and cutting tool. This, he used to carefully pierce and drain the internal structures of the skull, letting the remains of the brain and sensory nerves and tissues drip down onto the discarded hide of the creature's head. He pulled out a thick piece of leather cloth and wiped the skull clean, skillfully working it into each and every little crevice. Normally, he'd have used suction and heat treatment to scour the rest of the residue away before polishing, but the skull was fragile and he was wary of breaking it. Instead, using a special paste he kept in the satchel, he used the rougher side of the cloth to vigorously, but gently, rub the surface of the skull, removing leftover bodily detritus and slowly making it glimmer in the low light. The paste provided a finishing polish that made the brand new trophy shine. He didn't look up when the door slid open and Luar'ka stumbled inside wearily, collapsing on the floor near the carcass with a groan. Her dark coverings still bore the heavy bloodstains, but she'd washed the majority of it out, as well as cleaned her face thoroughly. She lay on her stomach, eyes half-masted as she stared disinterestedly at her kill. Kar'kha grunted shortly, swiveling slightly to face her from his seated position on the floor. Her eyes shifted to glance up at him and she heaved herself up on shaking arms, working herself into a kneeling position with her legs bent back beneath her and her palms flat on the ground for balance. Kar'kha reached toward her, holding out the deer's skull, freshly polished and gleaming in the low light. The skull was about the size of her hand; the deer had been relatively young, but already swift and tricky to pursue and catch. Luar'ka blinked a few times, slowly reaching out to take the skull from him gingerly.
"Yin'tekai-de nain'de," he rumbled out, "Th'syra s'kbi ki-ci'ki. Yeyin, Luar-ke Lar'ja."
Luar'ka screwed her eyes shut, running through what he'd said in her mind and picking out words she recognized; "...Uh...honorable...honorable hunt...This skull is...is my reward?" she asked nervously. He nodded once, mandibles moving every now and then. Luar'ka examined the skull carefully, turning it over in her hands as it slowly began to occur to her just how important this event was. She recalled the skulls Kar'kha wore over his armor. He wasn't wearing them now, but she remembered them well. They were trophies, creatures he'd hunted down honorably and claimed their skulls as his prize. She had just done the same. This skull was her first trophy from a successful hunt.
She smiled lightly up at him, relief and amazement hitting her at once. That action confused him, the way she bared her teeth as if challenging him. However he could see from her relaxed body and calm scent that she wasn't challenging him, as if there were anything to challenge him for in the first place. Whatever her reason for performing such an act, she seemed content. That was enough for him to understand for the moment. She nodded, "Yin'tekai," she repeated determinedly.
He nodded again and then gestured to the carcass lying on the floor. He pointed to her and then to it, indicating she feed while it was still fresh. Luar'ka eyed the dead animal curiously, and he noted with amusement that she'd already adopted their tendency to cock her head when she was curious. Ikthya'de was right, it seemed; she was a fast learner. He watched as she scooted closer to the carcass, digging her talons in with some difficulty and dragging them across the tattered flank, opening up the side a little wider and slicing a chunk of flesh and muscle free. She popped it in her mouth and swallowed quickly, eating each piece whole.
Kar'kha watched her quietly, taking note of how she consumed her food. His kind had a smaller, second set of grinding teeth deeper within their mouths, used for crunching through bone and tough-skinned fruits they came across. When he heard a familiar crunch coming from her general direction, he supposed she had a similar setup within her own mouth. Watching her use her claws for shredding the flesh of the carcass, and earlier having heard her use her own vocal ingenuity to answer the ka'rik'na he'd issued, he was beginning to find it oddly strange how similar she appeared to be to him. Maybe this would prove to be a beneficial relationship after all.
He tensed suddenly when he saw her shift abruptly in his direction, making him look up fully. Her face was smeared with the blood of her kill and he noted with interest that her white pupils were dilated within the stormy centers of her eyes. She was staring at him blankly as she held a piece of flesh out to him. It was one of the creature's internal organs. He wasn't certain which one. He eyed it curiously and trilled softly, musing on whether or not sharing a kill was part of her culture. Normally, unless the prey brought down was actually intended for group consumption, such as mass hunts to gather food for the clan or for hunting parties, sharing captured meat was out of the question. Yautja were encouraged to look after themselves without error and this often meant guarding their sustenance kills from weaker individuals who could hunt perfectly well on their own. The only exceptions were females hunting or providing food for their sucklings, or during times of famine, of which he'd only experienced one such time. Food was distributed then, and in smaller, equal amounts to give everyone a chance and preserve the supply. Kar'kha's brothers had shared their own rations with him due to his smaller size and weight back then.
For Luar'ka to share her hard-earned kill with him, when he could have easily just stolen it from her, confused him terribly. However, reacting to her stern stare, he reached out and accepted the offering. She gave him another false challenge, as he'd taken to calling the gesture, and returned to her repast. She glanced up at him once more and nodded her head quickly. He could see she wanted him to eat it. This was by far and away the strangest experience he'd ever encountered, but it couldn't be said he wasn't fascinated by it. He raised the meat to his mouth and bit into it, feeling the lingering warmth of the animal's life still ebbing through it faintly. It was so much better than the frozen meat kept in cold storage. The warmth was something he most definitely missed.
Luar'ka suddenly moved back from the carcass and began grooming herself immediately. When she'd finished, she picked up her new trophy and examined it, turning it around and around in her hands with a small smile on her face. Her wings twitched involuntarily and she glanced back behind her, a small sigh escaping her. Her scent changed suddenly, and Kar'kha let out a low clicking rumble in response. She stretched her wings out fully, her brow furrowing. She beat them furiously suddenly, her eyes scrunched shut from the exertion and mild pain from such an unfamiliar action. Her wings almost never left her back. Kar'kha chuffed loudly, startled by her actions. She looked over at him. Now, having eaten her fill from a fresh kill she'd made on her own, and having received her first trophy as a training huntress, Luar'ka realized that more had changed in the past nine days than she'd ever dared to hope for. Having gone from near starvation and abandonment at the hands of her own clan, pursued by black demons intent on eating her alive, and then stalked by a vicious devil desiring her head, only to be apprenticed by that same devil, Luar'ka finally stopped to dwell on these amazing facts. How fortunate she was, she realized. She was still very young, but she was beginning to think more maturely. Watching the powerful, yet oddly docile creature sitting in front of her, she knew, deep down, that he was not docile, that this was a side he was forcing himself to show for her sake. Maybe that would change once she'd grown more, but for now, he was strangely gentle with her. She knew so little about him, but he and his comrades had become her entire world. The ship they piloted through the void of the night had come to encompass her entire universe and her life now revolved around these strange creatures and their equally strange habits. Ikthya'de imparted on her knowledge of how to communicate with them, Than'ja sowed seeds of healing in her mind, Thwei'ja showed her important boundaries (whether or not she respected those boundaries was another matter) and Kar'kha strengthened her body and soul in ways she'd never experienced before. She'd never before felt as alive as she did right this moment. She'd ascended from a state close to death to one so full of vigor and energy, a life where she was called upon to be active and alert, useful to a community she hoped would accept her.
Luar'ka crept forward, her eyes fixed on him as he watched her move. Sitting before him, she reached back to her left wing and tugged at one of the feathers at the very tip, her invaluable guidance feathers. Assuming she'd ever learn to fly, she could never be without these. She would only ever have four to give away and she was about to use one of those chances. She tugged it free, wincing at the painful sting as she twisted back around so she faced him. She held the feather out to him, nudging it toward him. He eyed it curiously, his expression unreadable except for his eyes, which were filled with expression. Tentatively, he reached out to gently take the feather from her, sensing that this too was an important rite for her. She seemed pleased with his actions as he held onto the feather, barely large enough to span the width of his hand.
Knowing he wouldn't understand much of what she said without his mask, Luar'ka chose then to speak, confirming both to him and to herself her thoughts on the matter of her life at the present and, more importantly, the future.
"My life from before is over. I know that, now. I have a new life, Kar'kha, and I swear, I will never leave it. From this day on, I am Yautja."
Kar'kha eyed her seriously, straining to pick out the words she told him. They sounded important. He was able to catch the gist of what she said, especially recognizing his own species at the end of her sentence. He clicked rapidly, regarding her thoughtfully. He huffed lightly as he stood up and moved to the corner where her sparse collection of belongings lay. He scooped up the database he'd lent her and moved silently back to where she sat, handing it down to her. He sat again, urging her silently to turn the databank on. She did so, and the screen flared to life and shone up into the air around them. He fixed her with a stern stare and nodded to her, indicating she resume her studies. She began scrolling through the list of words and phrases, generation after generation of Yautjan study compiled into an enormous wealth of data and knowledge. Hundreds of languages existed in this device. Kar'kha felt certain she would master his language in no time. He watched, feeling his chest swell slightly with pride as he observed her reading the list diligently, absorbing everything she read with an unyielding appetite.
This was right. Somehow, he just knew that it was.
Terminology:
Dah'Nagara- Short Blade
Ky'var- Hunt
Chiva- Trial
Thin-de le'hsaun 'aloun'myin/bpe-de gka-de hsou-depaya- Learn the gift of all sights or finish the dance of the fallen gods. (seemed appropriate)
Ki'cti-pa- Wristblades (Has been known as the combistick or spear, but this seems to be a translation error and it actually appears to refer to the wristblades)
Note: I am not going to translate everything said by the Yautja in this story unless it is requested. For instance, the words of my own creation using Steve Perry's language guide. I feel I describe them well enough in sentence for their meanings to come across accurately.
A/N: Sorry for the delay in the update. I was going to update on Saturday, but then I fell prey to that stupid norovirus sweeping the nation, which effectively knocked me down for two days. I'm still woozy, but at least I can move around now. So here's the new chapter and I think instead of Thursdays, I'll update on Saturdays from now on. I'm honestly not trying to confuse you guys, I swear.