Suddenly, the hand of Greyback struck its back across M'hsi's face, sending her sprawling across the Lost Tribe's mothership floor. Rag'ne's head tumbled from her grasp and faced his former clanmates.

"Be quiet." Greyback commanded. "How can you ever hope to become Blooded when you cower so?"

Propping herself onto an arm, she cradled the struck side of her face. He hadn't succeeded in dislodging her mask, but only just so. The impact still hurt.

"How did you know I was Unblooded?"

"You speak like one. And you are female, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then what are you doing laying there? Get up and stand on your two feet, then kneel and address me."

M'hsi struggled through the pain of a sore body and wounded pride and lifted herself to a slouching, but standing state. Then she sloppily retrieved Rag'ne's head, almost collapsing again, then limped before the Elder once more. After a moment, she fell into a kneeling position, bowing her head to Greyback. The Lost Tribe watched silently as she sought to catch her breath.

"As soon as I—"

"I can't hear you. Be polite and unmask yourself, stranger."

M'hsi obliged and uncoupled her breathing apparatus, again bowing her head. After a minute, and seeing an expectant look on his face, she resumed.

"As soon as I was well enough to make the journey, I came to—AUCK!"

Greyback had knelt as well and had taken grip of the horn atop her head and forced her to face downwards, painfully.

"Speak when you're spoken to."

"... Yes, sir."

"Just so."

Someone among the observing tribe whispered to another that Greyback was really letting her have it. Greyback himself ignored this. He stood back up, and held a hand out.

"Now, present the head of my greatest champion, Rag'ne, and tell me how a foreign Unblooded came to defeat him."

Not making eye contact, she held up the head of Rag'ne by its hair.

"... I present you the head of your greatest... champion, Rag'ne..."

Greyback made a pleased face. Or, was it amused?

"Well? We don't have all day, Young Blood."

She glanced down in thought, then looked back up at the Elder. Furrowing her brow, she stood back up and thrust the head towards his chest.

She held her head up with pride and, with gusto, spoke.

"Honorable Greyback of the Lost Tribe. I am M'hsi, daughter of Halkrath, and an Odd Crest of the Half-Heart Clan. I bring you the head of Rag'ne, your former champion. I had unknowingly encroached on Lost Tribe Hunting grounds and despite trying to concede, he made the first blow anyways. I skewered him on his own combistick and drowned him in liquid stone."

Greyback raised his eyebrows, then looked down and received the head without word. He picked dried concrete off it, crumbled it between his fingertips, then looked back at M'hsi.

"Why have you come to Lost Tribe Hunting grounds in the first place?"

She continued.

"My clan leader Kandore had sent me on an unorthodox series of Hunts set before my Blooding. You were unreachable, and so, we did not know you were active in this area. All other clans had approved his plan and overlooked my trespassing."

"So, this Kandore assumed we would not be here?"

M'hsi nodded. "Hunting grounds are free game when not actively occupied. He simply could not find out whether this city was occupied or not. He tried."

Greyback twirled his necklace of trophies betwixt his fingers in thought, much like Kandore does with his quills.

"Such is the folly of being lost to Yautjakind. Have you the footage of this duel?"

M'hsi presented her mask to the Elder.

"I regret to say that both of our masks were removed during battle. The audio may reflect the events I have described, however."

He took the mask and donned it, tapping on his wristcom. Over several minutes, Greyback scrolled through the recorded scuffle, broadcast to the screen in the mothership wall. The entire tribe turned to watch the inciting incident, and listened to Rag'ne's final moments. The screen went dark once more, and the neat crowd turned back to the two.

"Satisfactory. It was an unavoidable misunderstanding."

Borg stood out of his directed corner, and crossed himself.

"Thousand pardons for speaking out of turn, Greyback, but is it allowed to let this foreigner kill an Elite unpunished?"

Greyback stared at him until he drew back behind the crowd and in the shadows of the corner.

M'hsi kneeled again.

"I accept any punishment you deem fit. For I am a trespasser in your territory, after all."

He instead motioned for her to rise, and so she did, struggling to switch between stances. Tapping on his wristcom, he looked the Odd Crest up and down.

"Any punishment I should think fit for the crime, has already been inflicted on you. M'hsi has been punished enough."

Greyback gingerly parted from M'hsi's mask and returned it. He beheld the head at eye level and observed its cold gaze through its mask's visor.

"Rag'ne was always too aggressive for his own good. It led to him becoming the champion of the party, just as it led to his downfall. Being defeated so ultimately by a Unblooded is proof he never deserved it. His arrogance was only matched by his shoddy spear-wielding—no Spear Master was he—and his end met by that if you are to be believed. Rag'ne made the mistake of challenging another Yautja who has more to lose than her life."

The Elder held the severed head out towards the Lost Tribesmen, one of whom took the head and disappeared down a hall with. M'hsi reached to her belt and ungracefully pulled out a Yautja tooth.

"He punched this out of my mouth. If it is any consolation for his loss, you can have it."

As she held it out to Greyback, he cupped her fist within his hand and pushed it back to her.

"Unnecessary."

M'hsi glanced down and fumbled with the various weapons strapped to her belt and legs.

"I really should turn these in as well. They're Rag'ne's. You'll be wanting them back."

"Unnecessary," Greyback repeated. "He'd proven himself unworthy to wield them properly."

The Odd Crest crossed herself like Borg had done.

"You misunderstand, Greyback," she said breathlessly. "My leader had specifically relayed to all others was that I was to have no help from any Yautja."

He scratched his face, crossed his arms behind his back, and leaned back with his eyes closed ever so nonchalantly.

"I never received any message of that sort."

M'hsi's breathing reacted by becoming irregular, and she suspects she must have made a face of distress, which he noticed once he opened his eyes, because he then spoke less casually.

"We are not helping you. You participated in a fight that, by all means, was less than fair. You earned an arsenal. You could have chosen to not approach us, and kept them. And that would have been acceptable. They are your prize, and trophy. If Kandore has an issue with this, he can come here in the flesh."

He flicked his hand dismissively.

"That must be all of it. You can go now. I give you my permission to continue Hunting on our grounds." Greyback turned to the observing clanmates. "That means no Hunting for you all until she leaves. We don't want to risk another accidental kill-steal."

As some clicked with displeasure, M'hsi bowed as deeply as her bruised ribs could allow.

"I thank you for your mercy, Honorable Greyback. I will try not to be long."

Staggering back upright, she gave a nod to him, a nod to the clan, then proceeded to limp out towards the exit.

"M'hsi, was it?" Greyback called out.

She turned her head to look at him, not exerting herself to turn completely around.

"Yes."

"A very fitting name. You talk like a youngling who knows their place—humility which is welcome—but will not surpass it. Speak like you wield the respect you demand, M'hsi."

She wearily nodded her head and recoupled her mask.

"I will."