Beneath the Crystal Sky

by laptop246

Fawn Dogwood is 16. She lives in District 7. She is part of a prosperous scouting troop. She has two little sisters. She is learning a trade. She is being courted. She was never meant to be Reaped. "Scout. Sister. Performer. Tribute. What am I, now? Staring into my own brown eyes, I find that I can't tell anymore." High quality. Works very closely with the original series.

2. I WAIT

PART I. BEGINNING.
CHAPTER 2. WAIT.

Time for chapter 2! Thanks to all who R&R ... how do you make that past tense? R&Red? Never mind ... Anyway, this is dedicated to the amazing, best friend ever, Kaitlin, who puts up with my ranting (a good portion of which is dedicated to BTCS), and altogether keeps me together. Let's have a round of applause for her.

And now, let us return to BTCS. For the sake of character building, I decided to pick up only a few hours after the last chapter (I think I called it Scout) ended. So, yep, give it up for Fawn (again)!

~BTCS~

Riccy catches the ball neatly as she jumps to a lower branch. She tosses it upwards as Lyda maneuvers to reach it. It's barely touched her hands when it flies directly to Johanna, who quickly tosses it in my direction. I aim to Lyda again. A heartbeat after it leaves my palm, the larger ball smacks the branch, which begins to shake precariously. Shooting Lore, who threw the ball, an angry look, I drop to a branch a bit lower.

We have been playing for a time, but no one has made a distinct advantage. Poy was tagged by Lyda, and now sits, dejected, to the side. Trew, Lore, and Kri are still throwing around the larger ball and maneuvering away from our attempts to tag them. They are yet to come close to grabbing the smaller ball, though Johanna almost fell off her branch once. Johanna hasn't done much but pass the ball the entire game, but she's really just expected to observe.

I begin weaving into the higher branches of the trees, where mockingjays flutter around my head. Riccy laughs as she tosses me the small ball, calling, "You have a crown of birds!" and I laugh too as I toss it back. I whistle out a bit of the lullaby, 'The sparrow is no mockingjay to sing a child to sleep,' and they call it back into the darkness. I keep climbing up until I can hardly see anyone but for Johanna, who tosses me the ball occasionally so I can drop it back.

Tilting my head to catch the breeze in my hair, I eye the boys. We have to sleep eventually, which means that someone has to win, or we call a tie. I really hate calling ties - we all do. We'd rather stay up till the sun rises than call one. But the moon is getting high in the sky, and I'm still behind on sleep. We'll have to try something risky.

We've already agreed on a plan for this case. I whistle again, this time three short notes. The mockingjays gladly repeat it, and I take a deep breath. Lyda, Riccy, and Johanna give no sign of recognition to this signal, but they are doubtlessly prepared. After a moment of hesitation, I stretch myself out and allow myself to fall through the branches. Kri gives a cry of warning, thinking I've slipped, but Lyda and Riccy are immersed in passing the ball back and forth. Johanna has vanished.

I had placed my fall to put me out of way of large branches, so the twigs brushing by me don't really hurt, just slow me down. The light from the fire is getting close. Kri and Lore stand beneath me, ready to catch me, while Trew holds the ball nearby, ready for trickery. I close my eyes, bracing myself. Kri and Lore's arms are steady, and they swing me between them a few times, tossing me onto my feet. I gasp out a thank you, breathless with exhilaration from my fall. I really should do that more often. They give me nods, and the game resumes its competitive feel.

I dart towards Kri, arm outstretched as though going to tag him. He sidesteps, smacking my hand out of the way. I aim a kick at Lore, which hits, but, unfortunately, tags have to be made with the hands. Slowly, they begin to back away from me, towards a large tree. I carefully stalk after them, watching their body language carefully for an opening. When none appears, I give up and fling myself at Lore, who flips me onto the ground with ease. They run to the tree, and, winded, I don't follow for a moment.

They glance around at their surroundings when they have caught their breath, as I am hefting myself up the first branch. Unfortunately, they spot Johanna, creeping up on Trew, who is aiming the large ball at Riccy. "Trew!" Kri's call of warning has barely left his mouth when my hand smacks his boot. He lets out a stream of curses at his own foolhardy, and drops to the ground, joining Poy.

Though Kri, who is now out, can no longer warn his team of the imminent danger Johanna and I pose, neither are fooled. Lore is scrambling up the tree from me, hopping from branch to branch in efforts to escape. I don't look over to see how Johanna is doing; I just climb. Branches fly past as I scramble up the bark, finding handholds easier than Lore, who has to haul his bulky frame with less ease. When he glances down, he sees how quickly I am gaining on him. He begins to climb faster than is probably safe, but I'm going faster, so who am I to complain?

Lore flings himself onto another tree, scrambling along it. I climb a bit higher so that I will be harder to see, and then follow. Lore has to climb towards the trunk so that the branches won't break, but I'm lighter, so I can climb on the lighter, leafier branches. Soon I am high above him, hidden in leaves and watching him struggle about. He's looking for me, but can't find me. Eventually, he has the sense to stop, and I grit my teeth. If I move, the mockingjays will surely call out and alert him of my placement, but if I don't, I might never be at such an advantage to him again.

I decide to risk it. I drop to a branch about a yard or so from his head. The branches rustle and a mockingjay calls as it is startled. Lore looks up and quickly spots my nut-brown hair in the darker wood and green. He starts to scramble down, but I'm quicker, on him in an instant. "Got you!" I cry joyfully, smacking his shoulder. Lore moans for a moment, then grins. "That was good, Fawn," he says, giving my hand a quick shake.

"Thanks," I shake my bangs out of my eyes and glance around at the clearing far below. "Can you tell what's going on down there?"

"Nope," he says. "Shall we?" I grin at his mock gentleman-like attitude. However, I don't accept his hand as I drop from branch to branch, until I hit the ground in a crouch. Dusting myself off, I look around. Johanna, Riccy, and Lyda are tossing the ball back and forth, glancing towards me with curiosity, having, no doubt, heard my and Lore's scuffle in the branches. "Got him!" I tell them with pride.

Riccy's face breaks into a wide grin as Lore drops beside me. "We won!" she tells me, and Lyda smacks Johanna's back heartily, barking out a howl to the moon in jubilance. I laugh, smiling as well. "Who took out Trew?" I ask, looking right out Lyda. Trew is our best Branchball player - Lyda is the only person who's managed to tag him out before.

Lyda's grin is more triumphant than before. "It wasn't me, actually," she informs me, laughing at my shock. "Or Riccy. Johanna here is proving to be a very valuable player."

I turn to Johanna. "You got Trew out?"

"Beginner's luck," Trew grumbles, and that brings a laugh to my lips. Johanna smiles and nods, somewhat embarrassed. I thump her on the back like Lyda did, but I don't howl to the moon. "Well done!" I congratulate her.

Kri's face is thoughtful. "I wonder how she'd do in a proper game, with other towns." We all study Johanna momentarily. After a moment, Poy suggests, "We normally meet Walnut and Pinecone on our way to Redwood." I notice how he avoids mentioning the Hunger Games. "There's eight of us - if we pick up another player, we could play."

"Johanna can be our secret weapon," Riccy puts in. "since they've already figured out about Lyda."

I nod approvingly. Sawdust has lost to Walnut too many times. "My sister, Aria, is twelve now. She's old enough to start scouting, or at least playing Branchball."

"Isn't Aria the one that cries when you're gone?" Lyda asks. Sheepishly, I nod. "She might not be up for scouting, not yet, at least. But Branchball is another matter entirely. Has she ever played before?"

I shrug. "When the children are given free time at school, they play a variation of it. Aria tells me that she's pretty good. She's always the planner of her team. She's the one that gave me the idea for the falling technique I tried out today."

Trew nods. "She might be a valuable asset to our team, then." I grin. Aria has always admired the members of the troop - our toughness, tight-knit family, and pride. In a way, we're kind of like the gangs that threaten the streets of Redwood. But we don't aim to start trouble, like they do. Sure, we are competitive with the other troops, but we are never physical with them, and we don't steal.

Silent, we all set up our bedrolls beside the fire. I pile pine needles beside my pillow, and it's like I'm back with my father, rolling in the pine needles. I notice that Johanna is having trouble setting up her bedroll, and I walk over. "Having trouble?" I keep my voice low, because Kri is already asleep, and Lyda is following fast. Riccy, who is on watch, glances over at us briefly before returning her gaze to the shadows, preparing for an animal attack. Even Kri, fast asleep, holds a knife tightly in his fist.

Johanna shrugs, unwilling to admit that she is not setting up as easily as the rest of the Crescent Moon troop. I smile kindly at her and help her set it up. "It's not a big deal," I assure her. "We were all new once, you know."

Johanna's answering smile is a bit forced. "I don't like being singled out," she admits. "I feel like the weak link, with the rest of you looking out for me, like some rambunctious toddler."

I laugh at this description Johanna gives herself, careful to keep the noise from waking the others. "You are our weak link!" I gasp through my laughter. "And soon you'll be looking out for another young one!" Johanna's nose wrinkles as she screws up her face in annoyance at the term 'young one,' which only makes me laugh more.

"Thanks," it is sincere, despite her dislike of the way I'm referring to her.

"No problem," I clap her shoulder. "Not after your Branchball performance, anyway." Johanna's eyes lower with embarrassment, and I'm chuckling again.

She shrugs off my hand. "Why is Branchball such a big deal to you all?"

I consider her question seriously for a moment before replying, "I suppose it's the first chance we see how you shape up to action, even if it's only a game. If you do well at Branchball, there's a good chance that you'll make it home and out again." Johanna's eyes darken at this comment. She has doubtlessly seen the dead bodies that we bring back. Does she suspect that she will soon be one of them? Feeling saddened, I bid her goodnight and return to my own bedroll.

My head tucked into the soft pillow (which we can't afford in the Sawdust huts) and surrounded by pine and friends, I become dangerously relaxed. I know that animals are roaming at this time - they very well may be watching us right now! Yet, all the same, I cannot help myself from falling into a deep and peaceful sleep.

~~BTCS~~

I wake to a cool touch. I blink my eyes open slowly, make drowsy by the smell of pine. Riccy's golden-framed hair shifts above me. "Morning, sleepy head," she teases. I push her off and stretch slowly, blinking until my surroundings come into focus. It's colder than it was yesterday, and I know instinctively that this will be one of those days when you are cold no matter how far you run. A small frown develops on my lips.

I turn to Riccy. "We weren't attacked last night?" I had instinctively expected to wake to snarls and cries - not a peaceful but cold morning with the sharp scent of pine all around.

"Nope," Riccy shakes her head slowly, her eyes lifting to scan the trees momentarily. "Not a hair of an animal all night, but for the mockingjays." They twitter as she mentions them, as though to remind me of their presence.

I screw my eyes up as I glance at the rising sun. I'm still drowsy from staying up so late playing Branchball. Around me, the rest of the troop is up, rolling up their bedrolls, cooking last night's leftovers, chatting to each other, or just looking darkly into the shadows. "No one woke me for watch," I tell Riccy, stretching again.

"I know," Riccy begins to finger-comb her hair. "I had the last watch. I was going to wake you up, but ..." she glancing into the trees. "I was worried about being attacked, and I figured just to let you sleep."

We've all done it before - save each other the strain of waking for watch. I nod in understanding. "Fine, but I take the first watch tonight." Riccy nods in agreement before dropping the conversation entirely and turning around slowly to examine the surrounding trees. I stand and do the same, stretching as I do so. I tuck a knife into my belt and shrug my leather jacket on, immediately expelling the cold. After looking about for another moment, I bend to roll up my bedroll. Riccy stands above me, knife out, ready to challenge anything intending to take advantage of my momentary distraction.

I stand, and Riccy and I both head over to the fire. Johanna glances up at us briefly before returning her gaze to the shadows and turning her knife over in her hands. I turn to Kri, who is handing out food, hopefully. His smile is dry and nervous as he hands me some of the leftover food. I'm too focused on the trees to fully recognize what I am eating. Riccy stands beside me, chewing slowly and swallowing dryly.

After we have all eaten and packed up, there is no reason to delay. Our job is to survey this part of the woods in one week, which isn't very long for such a large area. And we can't be late this time, because we'll miss the Reaping, which is punishable by death. Lyda is given the mapmaking supplies for the day. Lore and I take up pace beside her, creating a barrier so that she can work without worrying about her life suddenly ending.

The walk is quiet and thick with anticipation. We don't talk unless it's completely necessary, keeping our eyes and ears fixed upon what we cannot see. "What you see in a moment has seen you for an hour." But when does the hour start? We don't take any breaks, too nervous to stop and stay sitting ducks. I notice that Lyda's marks aren't as straight as normal, shaking from nerves. A charging foe we can face without hesitation, but one that hides and waits is terrifying.

Towards the end of the day, Lore stops suddenly, head tilted to the side ever so slightly. Lyda and I stop immediately, straining our ears, and the rest of the troop does as well when they notice our pause. "What is it, Lore?" Trew whispers. Wide-eyed and wordless, Lore points up, and I register the sound immediately.

"Tracker jackers," Lyda whispers, unable to stop shaking. Her father died from tracker jacker venom, a nest unnoticed by the scouting troop at that time. Whenever we encountered a nest, she would refuse to go within hearing range of them while we marked the spot on a map and then continued in the opposite direction.

Johanna also looks scared. She has probably not seen a tracker jacker nest before, but has doubtlessly heard of them. They're a constant problem in District 7, especially in the moving towns of Sawdust, Walnut, Sap, Pine Needles, and Pinecone. In the five, we are sparsely populated, and have to be on constant alert for the pesky little nests. The Peacekeepers have supplies that will calm the insects, but normal citizens are not trusted with them, especially not us scouts. So, the Peacekeepers are safe, but the people of District 7 are not.

"How many of them?" Kri has the sense to keep his voice down, and we all stand carefully still.

I listen to the buzzing for a moment, trying to decide. "At least five or six nests," I reply, shuddering at the thought of the hallucinations that their venom could induce. "Too many to pass by."

Riccy nods. "Slowly," she whispers out of the corner of her mouth to Johanna. "As silent as you can, back away." Beside me, Lyda is shaking like the leaves of the few oak trees in autumn, but her steps are steady and surprisingly silent.

I hear a particular buzz in the chorus coming closer and catch my breath. Is one of the pests coming closer? I slow my breathing and step to almost nonexistent, and I wonder if this is what the trees feel like, swaying gently in the breeze and slowly extending its roots down and branches up. The buzzing fades back into the normal and I breathe again.

When the buzzing fades into the distance, we stop and glance at each other. Lyda's shaking has ceased, but she is too pale. Lore takes the maps from her and carefully marks the location of the nests. I sweep Lyda into a firm hug, brushing back her fiery hair. Her green eyes are so blank and distant, I'm not sure she registers any of this, though she does squeeze me back. "Shhh, shhh," I whisper to her. "Its okay, Lyda, really, it is. They're gone, all gone. No tracker jackers to get any of us. We're too tough for them. Their stingers could pierce our skin."

"Now, the Sap Troop," Riccy comments, taking Lyda from me. Lyda is, I can now see, relieving the moment of her father's death. "are an entirely different story. They're so soft; they would've never survived what we just did."

I frown. "Sap's troop is just as tough as we are."

Riccy's laugh is loud enough to worry me about alerting the tracker jackers. It's the first real sign of merriment to appear the entire day. "Oh, I forgot, Fawn! Isn't River Arbre in that troop?" My color must speak for me because she bursts out laughing again.

"River - I mean that River and I - he's -" I sputter out, and Lore begins laughing, too.

"I've met River," he tells me. "Nice guy. Nice looking, too." he winks at me, and I must give the color red a new definition. "Isn't it about time for him to speak to your mother?"

"Lore!" I snap, embarrassment flooding me. I push him playfully, shaking my head at his words.

Trew smiles and saunters over. "Normally, he'd talk to your father, right?" I nod in agreement, eyes narrowed. "Well, as circumstances have it, you have no father for him to approach. Poor boy. That's probably why he hasn't approached your mother yet."

Poy nods thoughtfully. "Of course. This makes sense now. We'll just have to, shall I say, point him in the right direction, and stand in for your father."

My cheeks flush. "You wouldn't!" I cry accusingly, only my fear of the tracker jackers keeping me within reason. "You... You couldn't! You wouldn't!" Riccy's great laugh rings in my ears.

"Ah, yes, wonderful idea, Poy," Lore thumps him on the back. "Absolutely wonderful. Of course, we'll take him aside and instruct him to be very, very, careful with our little girl." he winks at me and I moan.

"He'll have to have his own hut, three yards of rich red fabric, and a goat before he may marry you," Trew declares. I shake my head. These proposals are ridiculous. Having three yards of rich fabric and a goat meant that you were fabulously rich, especially for the Sawdust huts.

Riccy takes my shoulders, passing Lyda to Kri. "When we meet Sap next, you're to come to my hut before you see that boy, do you hear me? My sister has a pretty dress that she's saving for me, but it won't quite fit my yet. You, however ... you would fit it perfectly."

Lyda has awoken from whatever world she was in and now tugs at my long brown hair, in a tight ponytail for the scouting expedition. "I know a new way to do your hair that will make your eyes look nice," she tells me, smiling once more.

"And then you can go talk to River," Lore announces. "Well, talk or ..."

My mouth drops. "Lore!" I push him over, and both Riccy and Lyda have to restrain me from going and kicking his face.

Laughing, Lore sits up and points at my face. "If only you could see the look on your face right now!" He collapses back down again, beating the ground with his fists in a pure state of hysteria. I roll my eyes, but my face is red as ever.

"So," Johanna has stood to the side throughout all of this. "Who's this River kid?"

"Only the most brave -" Lyda begins

"And handsome -" Riccy bats her eyebrows, and I push her too.

"-boy in the Sap Troop," Lyda continues. "He's seventeen - older than Fawn. Trew, do you think that's going to be a problem?"

Trew frowns and studies me a moment. "Not so long as Fawn and River wait until she is eighteen. Fawn, that's in ... what? A year and a half? Less? You don't have long to wait at all."

"Back in my day," Lore sits up slowly, as though his back hurt, pretending to be an elder and shaking his crooked finger at me. "we did things properly. The boy courted the girl for five years before asking her to marry him, and the parents were informed long before the courting!"

Laughter booms around. "Oh, be quiet," I snap to Lore. "As if you are falling over Jessica every time you see her." Jessica is a pretty, curvy girl from Pine Needles, but she isn't in her town's troop. Her family had only her and her father, so they managed fine with their wages from cutting lumber without taking new jobs. She has an easier life than most, but I try not to hold a grudge against her for it.

It's Lore's turn to become the rising sun. "Jessica? Please."

"Fawn's got you there, Lore," Kri laughs. "Whenever you're around Jessica, you light up like a moonbeam. She's noticed, too. Why aren't you talking to her father?" The entire Crescent Moon Troop laughs, and, to my relief, the conversation is dropped.

~~~BTCS~~~

I cook tonight, with Lyda, Poy, and Lore. Their teasing has ceased, but Lore's smiles tell me that he has not dropped the conversation completely. I huff slightly as he waggles his eyebrows at me, resisting the urge to jump up and box his ears. "Lyda," I lift some kind of pine nut. "What are these for?"

Lyda studies them momentarily, and then nods to the goose, the second we've found, with no lake in sight. "We'll try to make it in the goose." I don't argue, placing the pine nuts neatly on a leaf beside the cooking goose.

Dusting my hands, I stretch and glance across the borders of the forest again. I've long since memorized the sight, down to every twig. If something were out of place, I'd notice it. But there is nothing different about the landscape. With Trew, Riccy, Kri, and Johanna hunting tonight, I'm on edge. Why haven't we been attacked? We can put part of it off to the tracker jacker's location, but we are far from them now. Unless there is some unseen threat lurking, there are animals waiting for the right moment to encounter us. It's lucky that I have the first watch tonight; I might not be able to sleep at all.

Riccy and Johanna return from hunting soon, and skin their catch. I take one look at Johanna's face as she does the messy work and know that she has done it before. So, she's been illegally hunting, like the rest of the kids her age. Somehow, I'd thought that she wouldn't have been. Johanna's tough, like you have to be to survive, but she doesn't have the fire that fuels most. She's quieter and more reserved. Of course, this may change about her. Even Aria, my shy, perfect sister, will doubtlessly become gruffer as she ages.

The squirrel finishes cooking first. Lore sets the wooden plates out for Poy to place the food on. We may be tough, wilderness-loving scouts, but we're not savages above using plates and utensils. They're just not ... always available. I begin mashing some roots and berries that Lyda gave me. The smell of the cooked meat is tempting, but I resist the urge to dig in.

Trew and Kri appear to be taking their time. I wonder if they have found the lake, and are noting it on the paper they took. I hope so - the lake is beginning to worry us, since we can't find it. Tracker jackers like large bodies of water, and if the lake is huge, there might be dozens of tracker jacker nests lurking around. We want to be prepared the next time we have a run-in with those little beasties.

When the sun has left the horizon and the cricket's song rules the night, I begin to worry. The food has long since cooled, and we are attempting to keep it and ourselves warm with the aid of the fire. I give up and eat my share, the others slowly doing so themselves. Kri and Trew must know that we would eat without them if they keep out so late. I exchange a glance with Riccy, and I know that she is also thinking of the animals that are lurking about. Lyda's eyes are wide, and I'm sure that she's imagining them intoxicated with tracker jacker venom.

By the time the owls have begun their hunt, and the stars are watching with their crystal light above, I have made up my mind. I stand and announce, "I'm going to look for them." They all nod immediately and begin packing up, like I am now. Riccy is the first to realize that this will not work.

"Hey, wait a minute," she says. "We can't all go. Someone has to watch the fire, and wait to see if Trew and Kri come back."

Lyda's hand shoots into the air. "I'll do it," she offers. My features fall into a sympathetic frown. The poor girl. Her imaginings must have been worse than I thought.

"We can't leave you here alone, not if there's something out there," I point out. "I'm not staying, though. I'm the one that wanted to go in the first place." There are unhappy glances, and mutterings, but there is no dispute over this.

"Hanna can't go," Lore announces. "She's too young, and inexperienced."

Johanna's features solidify into a mask of anger. "I'm not young!" Her high pitched voice gives her away, but we all admire her courage to face the unknown.

"C'mon, Anna, it's for your own good," I mutter, voice gentle. "Stay here with Lyda." Johanna pouts a moment more, and then crosses her arms and sits down by the fire, recognizing defeat. Lyda pats her arm and whispers something in her ear.

I glance at Poy, Riccy, and Lore. One of them really should stay, so that we will have even groups of three. But will any of them back down? We spend a few moments in tense silence, before Poy sighs. "I'll stay with the girls," he announces, "they're both young."

"Hey!" Johanna and Lyda cry as one. It's enough to draw a dry chuckle out of all of us. Poy ruffles their hair and they push him off.

Lore, Riccy, and I finish our packing, only taking what we must. We equip ourselves with all the clothing we can that won't hinder our movement, because the night is cold without the fire's protection. Our knives are carefully stored, but we leave the mapmaking supplies with Poy, Lyda, and Johanna. We can't risk all of our work getting destroyed.

I give our fire-watchers a salute in the fashion of District 7; one hand raised to the sky and one on the heart. They return it, and Lore leads the way into the trees.

~~~~BTCS~~~~

The darkness is nearly absolute. We hadn't dared bring a torch with us, because the light would've alerted anything waiting for us. We found a path through the trees that Riccy assured us was not hers and Johanna's. So far, it has not lead us to Kri and Trew, but our hopes remain high as we spot a human footprint.

At one point, we hear a coyote howl, startlingly close, and rustling underbrush. We all stop, stock-still. Is this the long-awaited predator? We stare at each other and the shadows, and suddenly hear a human cry, long and loud, and distinctly Kri.

We are running through the trees in a heartbeat, abandoning the path. I clutch a knife tight in my hand, ready to throw at the slightest sign of movement, looking for a flash of color in the weak light from the half moon. But it's not me that finds the scene first. It's Lore who flings his knife first. I struggle to a stop, finding the fight quickly. Three large, muscular coyotes are standing beneath a tree. One has a knife embedded in its side and is slowly approaching Lore. Another has a pant leg in his teeth...

Riccy and I act at the same time, throwing our knife at the wolf with Kri's pant leg in his mouth. The poor beast has no time to react as two knives sink into his heart. I race forward to catch the falling Kri above the dead coyote's body, like he and Lore did to me last night. He swings easily onto his feet, slapping my shoulder in thanks. In grim return, I hand him a knife, noticing that his are gone.

Trew climbs down quickly, jumping the last ten feet, and accepting a knife from me as well. "How long have you been in that tree?" I ask, loudly, watching Lore and Riccy evade the two remaining coyotes and throwing a knife of my own to save Lore from a serious bite.

"Hours," Trew answers, stretching his legs and keeping a close eye on the fallen coyote as Trew checks to make sure it's dead. "I got stiff, which is the only reason that one got me."

I'm amused, despite the situation. "Naturally." Trew pronounces it to be dead and I split up my remaining knives between the three of us. They give me a quick salute and dash off to help Riccy.

Wanting to save as many of my knives as possible, I pick up a nicely sized rock. "Hey! Stink-breath!" I throw the rock, which strikes the coyote Lore is fighting in the eye. It howls and stops in its tracks, pawing at its eye, which is most definitely bleeding. "Whistle-voice!" I've earned his attention. Lore backs away from us both slowly, meeting my eyes. Right. Keep it busy, and Lore can catch it off guard. Easy enough.

"That's right, Soft-Paws. That was me." I pick up another rock, and throw it. My aim isn't nearly as good with this one, and the coyote easily avoids it, but his eyes are narrowed on me. I'm making him angry. I throw another insult, and wave a rock at him threateningly. I can see that he is going to leap long before his muscles tense. I'm long gone when he lands where I was, rocks pelting his now-blind side. He spins around, confused for a moment, before finding me with a knife at ready. "Come get me, you baby. I've fought cubs better than you!"

The coyote cannot understand my words (obviously), but he can understand my meaning. His claws rake the ground as he studies me. Suddenly, he dashes towards me. He's quick, but I'm prepared. A knife flies and hits his muzzle, nearly puncturing his windpipe. Another gets his shoulder, but he doesn't stop. I'm forced to flee, with him following me. He's much faster, but I hold knives threateningly, assuring him that I will throw them, which barely keeps him off of me.

I spot Lore hanging in a tree just up ahead, a knife aimed for the coyote, which, intent on me, doesn't sense the new danger. I sprint for the tree, several yards ahead of the coyote, who hesitates when I stop, eyes locked on my knife. "Scared?" I ask, taunting him further. "Come and get me, you yellow-bellied -" I stop when Lore's knife hits his back with such force that the coyote is thrown to the ground. He's not dead, though, I can see that.

"I'm out of knives!" Lore calls to me. I nod to show that I understand, but don't reply, watching my enemy closely. Obviously in pain, I think I hear the beast whimper. Slowly, I approach him.

The wound that Lore gave him is frightening up close. I don't care to see the blood welling up around the fur, and the punctured organs below. The coyote's breath is shallow, and his working eye distant. I bend down and look into that eye until it clears with recognition. "You shouldn't have messed with my friends. No one messes with my friends." I send a knife into his heart and wait for the light to drain from him and his chest to fall silent. Then I retrieve the knives from his body and look around.

The coyote that Riccy, Trew, and Kri were fighting is long dead, and they are watching me. I smile slightly, wiping my hair from my eyes. We're all safe. It's all right. Lore hops down to join me, and I study him critically. He appears uninjured, but I ask him just to be sure.

Lore smiles. "That coyote couldn't hurt me."

I laugh, and give him a hug, filled with relief. "I know." Then I turn to the others. "Are you all okay?"

Trew responds, "Kri and I are, but Riccy -"

"-only has a scratch," Riccy interrupts him. "Really, it's fine." I'm beside her in a heartbeat, Lore behind me, studying her arm. It's oozing blood, running from her shoulder to her elbow. I flinch at the thought of what pain she must be in.

Kri, our best healer, studies it thoughtfully. "It'll be okay," he assures us. "Just needs some healing. Did you bring a medical kit?" I shake my head, and Kri quickly tears off a length of fabric from his shirt, wrapping it tightly around Riccy's arm to staunch the blood flow. "We'd better get back," he announces. "Poy, Lyda, and Johanna are still with the fire, right?"

Lore nods. "Right."

"They've got your dinner waiting for you," I add.

Trew grins. "Good. I'm starving."

~~~~~BTCS~~~~~

That was ... erm ... interesting. I hadn't really planned to make Fawn talk to coyotes. Really, kind of, insane, as I look back on it... Oh well. R&R!