Kung Fu Panda and its original cast belong to DreamWorks. I do not own. Cha Gung village and its inhabitants (with the exception of Master Flying Rhino), and the Fisi Clan are of my own twisted imagination. Yum.

Chapter Two

Master Flying Rhino carried a tray of food from the kitchen, walking on polished wood floors through a pristine home. The place was small, humble, and followed the rules of feng shui, leaving lots of open space to maximize potential. His great strides carried him to the bedroom. He knocked twice on the frame of the screen, then opened it and stepped inside. Zhong Zan looked up from the scroll he was studying, a small smile on his face.

"Good morning, Master," he greeted, bowing his head. Rhino was glad to see him sitting up; few people could take a beating like Zhong Zan.

"Brought you breakfast," Rhino said curtly, but there was warmth in the deep tones.

"Master…" Zhong Zan moaned mildly.

"You will rest for today. I'll get someone else to take up your rounds."

"I'm fine, I can – "

"You endured a nerve attack from a kung fu master last night. You will rest today." Rhino set the tray on his student's lap with an undignified clatter, brooking no argument.

"Yes, Master," Zhong Zan said reluctantly, contemplating the bowl of hot rice. He looked up from the food, worry written over his gray face.

"How is he?"

"Worse, thanks to that stupid stunt he tried to pull." Rhino sighed, his small ears falling low. He looked at the polished wood floor. If the panda hadn't been in trouble before, he was certainly in trouble now.

"Master?"

Rhino looked up, realizing his display of emotion was making his student uncomfortable. He shook his head, trying to smile, though he was sure he failed miserably. He let it fall; being serious was much more comfortable, more practiced. "If I know Shifu, he'll make it. But not without consequences."

Zhong Zan looked down again. Rhino mustered up his sentiment, clapping a hand on his student's shoulder in a misplaced attempt at reassurance. "Don't worry about him. Shifu's not one of the greatest kung fu masters for nothing."

"Yes, Master," the younger rhino mumbled, but his voice lacked sincerity. Rhino couldn't bring himself to blame his student for his open display of emotions. Much was hanging in the balance, both for the welfare of the village, and for their unexpected guest.

"Tai Hui will be in to check on you later," he said. "Get some rest."

Zhong Zan bowed his head as Rhino turned to leave. Once the screen clacked shut, the great master let his shoulders sag. What a mess this all was! His best student was lucky to be alive after last night's events. Shifu shouldn't have been conscious enough to do what he had done, and it was by a stroke of good fortune that the aim of his nerve attack had been off kilter, or Zhong Zan's heart would be no more.

Flying Rhino sighed a great gust of air, leaving Zhong Zan's home as quietly as he had come. Enjoying the cold breeze that slipped past the cliffs, he made his way toward the center of the village.

Cha Gung village was cleverly tucked into the mountainside, nestled beneath a fifty-foot outcrop. The residential huts were built near the inner wall, the "center" of the village. Rhino's modest home was the centermost, guarding the fissure that led deep into the heart of the mountain.

The blizzard still raged outside, going on its fourth day of terrible winds and flying ice. All but the outskirts of the village remained untouched by the whipping precipitation, thanks to the overhang, and the wind was naught but a frigid breeze beyond the outermost buildings. Tiny drifts of soft powder trailed on the slightest wind, dusting the roofs and the few streets like powdered sugar. Summer would be late this year. He didn't mind; the longer the Fisi Clan was held back by the weather, the better for his village.

Rhino opened the door to his home. The dark cherry wood of the entryway was still stained, and he wondered if they would ever get the black traces of blood scrubbed out. He feared the stain would have a negative impact on the peaceful qi that ran through his house if he left it; but removal of it would have to wait.

The warrior removed his snow tunic and hung it on its peg by the door, stomping his feet gently to shake them clean. At the end of the hall stood the guest bedroom, the center of what little focus he had to spare for the last three days. Rhino's ears perked forward, listening for any wayward sounds as he neared the dividing screen. He didn't know whether to be relieved or worried about the utter silence. Quietly, he slid the screen open and stepped inside.

His wife, Tai Hui, sat beside the raised bed mat. Occupying a small fraction of the mat was Shifu. Rhino came to stand behind her, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder even as she worked.

"How is he?"

"No better," she answered, her dulcet tones flat and to the point. She shook out a fresh terry cloth, dunking it in a bowl of snow water and wringing out a little of the excess. "But no worse, either."

It was the best that could be expected.

Rhino grumbled, watching her care for his friend. Tai Hui had rolled the red panda onto his uninjured side to keep his airway clear in the event of more vomiting. The constant tears, an affect of Fisi poison, matted the rusty fur around his eyes and across the bridge of his nose. His dark brows furrowed with obvious pain, marring the sunburst mark between his eyes.

Shifu's temperature was still far too high. After stripping him down, Tai Hui had spent hours wetting all the fur she could to keep him cool. It made Rhino wonder – not for the first time – how horrible it must be for furry creatures to be unable to sweat. Both Shifu and the bed were soaked. Even his tail (always so fluffy!) was sogged down to the pathetic resemblance of an alley cat.

The tiny warrior trembled worse than any of Rhino's afflicted soldiers, tremors and twitches shaking him down to his core. It rendered any movement uncontrolled, not to mention harmful to his wound.

"We're going to need more linen strips…" Rhino mumbled.

"The village is running low on medical supplies," his wife sighed. "I'll boil the drapes later and cut them down."

"Tai Hui!" he gasped. "Those are your favorite fabrics!"

"The village needs to keep all the medical supplies possible as long as those heartless nomads are out there," she groused, her small ears lowering a bit in frustration. She sighed, wiping the back of Shifu's neck. "In the mean time, I don't think our guest will care how his wound is dressed as long as he doesn't bleed to death."

Rhino was reminded once again that his wife was the only person he could never win an argument with.

"If that's what you want," he acquiesced. "Are there at least enough bandages to last until this evening?"

"I should hope so, or I doubt he'll make it another night."

Rhino pinched the bridge of his snout hard. He didn't know how one of the hyenas had landed a blow on the young master, but there was no doubt it had been done. Bandages swathed the panda's middle, a feeble attempt to control the bleeding. The wound, a ragged slice from a dull blade, cut deeply into his left side. It rendered him asunder with a wound that should have killed him.

Yet he lived.

Shaking his head with disbelief, Rhino reached out, placing a hand on Shifu's forehead. His ears twitched independently of each other – a sign that his coordination was gone. If this went on much longer, his lungs and heart wouldn't work properly either. But he'd made it this far…

"Has he taken any water?"

"No. I can't keep his head still enough. What little he takes doesn't stay down, either." She wiped down his back, then one of his arms, mindful of the bandages encircling his hand. Her head sank, voice coming with a rare softness. "How long will he have to suffer like this, Rhino?"

"…I don't know," he answered, patting her back comfortingly. "I don't know."

Tai Hui was right to worry. Rhino had lost several soldiers to the mysterious poison that lanced the weapons of the chaotic Fisi Clan. The nomadic hyena tribe was disorganized, barbaric, and their leader somehow ruled over the group of over 400 ruthless killers. Cha Gung village was sadly outnumbered five to one. But how could hyenas take down a village of powerful rhinos? Simple:

With sheer numbers and poison.

The first attacks had been nothing, leaving a few soldiers sick from battle wounds, but easily recovered. Soon, though, the poison became stronger. Now a single swipe of a Fisi blade could take down a Cha Gung soldier and make him suffer for days until his spirit gave up.

What could poison meant for a 2,000-pound juggernaut do to a 20-pound pipsqueak? Surely, the weapon that struck him must have been dirty or wet, and by all accounts Shifu still shouldn't have been able to make the climb up from the pass.

"…ino. Rhino!" The sharp edge of Tai Hui's voice shook him out of his thoughts. He blinked, collecting himself quickly.

"Yes, dear?" She was looking up at him with a sardonic glare, but her face softened immediately.

"Will you bring me the scissors from the night stand? His dressings need to be changed."

With a nod, he retrieved the implement and handed it to her. As Tai Hui readied the linen strips and poured more water into a clean bowl, Rhino carefully shifted Shifu onto his back. The red panda's ragged breath caught in his throat, eyes fluttering as his expression tightened.

Rhino held him gently by the shoulders, trying to prevent as much movement as possible. Tai Hui began to cut the bandages away, and Shifu flinched. The huge warrior felt some of his resolve crumble. The realization that Shifu was somewhere close to consciousness struck when his arms, slow and trembling, rose against Rhino's bulky wrists. Those nimble, articulate fingers, capable of wielding so much power, now barely held a grasp.

Tai Hui was tender and quick, pulling the dressings away from a sticky, bloody mess. Shifu had ripped the wound open the night before, while Zhong Zan had been watching over him. After felling him with a nerve attack executed on pure instinct, the red panda had somehow fallen out of bed. Tearing himself open after two days of fighting the poison had cost him what little healing there was and then some.

Whatever Fisi weapon that got him had gotten him good… Even now, the wound was seeping too freely. The white fur of Shifu's chest and belly was stained pink. His chestnut shoulders and hips, and dark arms and legs were both stained with blood and matted from the constant wiping down. The actual wound was the worst of it; ragged, gaping slightly and crusted with blood. Rhino firmly believed it was by some miracle the weapon had sliced between his lung and bowel, missing his vital organs.

Tai Hui's face turned grim, her brow tightening and lips thinning into a severe line. Rhino knew that look, and he held his breath for the blow.

"Rhino, get me some clay."

Dread lanced through the great warrior like a bolt of lightning. "Are you certain?" he asked, his tone harsher than he had meant it to be.

"Yes, I'm certain!" she snapped, dark eyes shining with fatigue-induced temper. "I want the smoothest clay possible from the Secret Lair of Souls. Go. Now."

Rhino cursed hotly, grabbing the old water bowl and stomping out of the room and down the hall. The back screen opened directly into the fissure he was devoted to guarding. Grabbing a torch stick by the door, he lit it from the hallway sconce and walked briskly into the natural stone tunnel.

The ceiling was high, the pathway narrow; a natural, giant crack in the mountain's ancient body. At a jog, his eyes barely registered what little detail the light revealed. It was as if the mountain itself devoured the flickering glow, swallowing it into a maw of endless shadows. Tunnel after tunnel passed him left and right, at times forcing him to choose a new direction. He navigated the labyrinth with ease.

It took only moments for Master Flying Rhino to step into an enormous chamber. The Secret Lair of Souls. The Sacred River of Healing flowed through at a narrow stretch here, offering its ethereal aquamarine glow as a means of lighting the cathedral-esque chamber. On the other side of the quietly flowing water was a simple cherry wood stand, polished and cared for with the greatest respect. This was the resting place of the sword of heroes.

Rhino shelved the torch in the wall sconce by the entrance, put down the bowl, and bowed to the Lair. After showing his respects, he retrieved the bowl and walked to the river, kneeling at its bank. The silty clay here was some of the purest in China, used to pack wounds and absorb toxins. But this clay was not for just anyone; it was sacred, and tradition ruled that only those pure of heart could survive the rigor of its healing properties.

This was, of course, a legend Rhino had purposely started to divert the deluge of sick visitors who would travel to the village, desperate for a miracle cure for their ailments. It was, nevertheless, the finest and cleanest clay in the land.

If Tai Hui was asking for it, Shifu was worse off than they had thought. Packing a wound with the stuff was effective, but one of the most painful experiences one could suffer through. Rhino was thankful the young master probably wouldn't remember any of this. At least he hoped.

Scooping some of the precious mud into the bowl, Master Rhino bowed again before leaving the Secret Lair and quickly returned to the house. Tai Hui was making soothing shushing sounds when he came back, carefully cleaning the fur around Shifu's wound with one hand while the other restrained him, pressing a little on his chest. She heard her husband walk in.

"Oh good," she quipped. "Hold him down. Once we're done with this you can hold his head still so I can force some fluids."

Rhino sighed, placing the bowl on the nightstand as he neared the bed. Distantly, he wondered how much more the young master could take.

~*~*~*~*~

Tendaji made things happen. Good things. Things that ensured he ate every day. He looked after his Paki, protected and fed them as long as they gave him what he wanted: information. He was the best of all of them. He could collect the goods on his own without so much as a paw print in the snow. But growing boys need to be fed, and they worked hard to earn their keep.

The young teenager leaned back against the foot of the cliff. The stone was cold, its jagged edges softened by the burlap cloak he wore. He crossed his arms to harbor the warmth in his chest, kept his eyes closed to shut out the cutting flurries.

Tendaji made things happen. Good things for his Paki. His nostrils flared faintly, taking in the luscious, dusty-stale scents from the pack at his side. The bread was old, nearly bad, but it was more than enough incentive for his comrades to give him what he wanted. He was the bread-winner, after all; no one else.

He bowed his lengthy neck, tucking his chin against the wind. He liked it here. He wanted to stay. His dense, striped fur faired much better here than in the Savannah, the homeland of the vast majority of the clan. This, the largest Fisi tribe, had prospered in their simple nomadic ways between Africa and India. His parents (the useless rutters…) had somehow crossed into the social structure of the spotted ones, enduring the drying heat of the plains since before Tendaji could remember.

Now, finally, Kgosi Amadi had led them into these mountains for a treasure that would make them prosper even more. And when they prospered, they ate.

The shuffling of rock dust over the face of the cliff drew Tendaji's gaze upward just as another hyena landed before him. He watched the young cub with fierce eyes, glaring down his muzzle at him.

"Otieno," he growled. This was who he had come to see: the outsider, the awiti.

The young cub before him shivered and hunched, eyes darting nervously about in search of others.

"Just us," Tendaji said simply, reaching into his pack. "Here." He tossed a small piece of bread casually, and the cub picked it out of the snow with eager hands, devouring it in a single slobbering mouthful. He dipped his nose into the snow, snuffing to see if he'd missed any morsels. Tendaji sneered in mild disgust.

"What have you heard?" he asked.

The child looked up with wide, chocolate eyes and perked ears. After a moment of staring, he crawled forward in the snow, approaching Tendaji with mild reluctance. Once close enough, he stuck a finger in the smooth snow between them and began to draw. The pattern of the village emerged as his paw flew, a picture that was now familiar to the striped hyena.

Otieno X-ed out one of the huts, turned away from his diagram, and began to draw another picture. This one took longer, but by the time he was done, Tendaji was scowling at the doodle. He crouched over it to get a better look, staring at the outline in the shadows of the cliff.

It looked like some kind of overgrown rat with kites for ears. It wasn't a creature he could identify.

"The strange traveler?" he questioned. Otieno nodded emphatically, grunting, and drew a few squiggly lines out from the side of the creature. He pointed at it, then at the hut.

"Shit…" the teenager hissed, though a smirk pulled intently at the corners of his lips. Whoever the traveler was, he was injured and being aided by the rhinos. Amadi would have Ige's head for this. "Anything else?"

Otieno held out a tiny hand for more bread – a sign he had no more information. Tendaji eyed him skeptically for a moment, then took the pack from around his waist and handed it to the cub. Otieno's eyes grew so large they looked close to popping out of his head.

"Good work," Tendaji signaled. With only a second's hesitation, Otieno grabbed the sac and skittered back up the mountain face without looking back. The teenager smirked to himself, knowing the extra burlap blanket in the sac would encourage the mute boy to stay one step ahead of the other Paki in his group. And that was a very good thing.

Now the striped hyena could go back to his tiny tent and mull over the new information. He had the tough decision of taking it to Kgosi Amadi right away, or lording it over Ige's head first. A rare laugh erupted deep in his throat as he disappeared into the drifting flurries.

Tendaji always made good things happen.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Hola. R&R if you find yourself so magnanimous to do so. For the record, I am fascinated by and love hyenas and the many mysteries that come with studying them. Their social structure is amazing and they are all around amazing animals. They just happen to fit the bad guy profile really well! XD Now, names:

Tai Hui can mean great intelligence, depending on the Chinese characters used to spell the name.

Tendaji means "makes things happen" in Swahili.

Otieno means "born at night" in Luo.

Awiti means "thrown away" in Luo, used here as a title rather than a name.

And in case anyone was wondering, I am aware that some of these African names are meant specifically for males or females. I intentionally mix and match the gender specific names, more or less an homage to the role-switching nature of the hyena.

Thanks again for your support!