The Ripple of a Stone

The Ripple of a Stone

Named.

Authors Note: This story I have written may not be exact with the customs and culture founded by the Predator movies, comics or stories but I have tried to stay in the area of their beliefs and ways. I have brought in elements from each of the categories and have combined them into one. I do not own Predator. Updates will be regular and changes will be made if any suggestions are made for me. Pronunciations at bottom. Some of the mentioned items in the Yautja world are made up by me. Good Reading.

E.M.

“” “” “” “”

The Matriarch even smelt like omnipotence. Nala was only looking at her from behind, but everything about the leading female displays power. From her long graying tresses to the armor that hung from her belt and even the sounds of her trophies as they clang together. The large room was floor to ceiling glass, the view amazing with half of the planet showing and the rest being the black of space. There are more than a hundred females staring at her, all but the Matriarch. Nala can feel a strange bend in her stomach, though she does not know what it is from. She knows she is not nervous, and she knows she is not scared. Maybe it is just anticipation. She knows she is safe because of all the people behind her; Lord Khupiee, Sya, Dhm’Ni, even Thr’ik giving her a since of safety. She is actually fearful of looking behind her and seeing Dhm’Ni. So she doesn’t bother to turn around.

“I wish this room empty.” Her voice is crackly, and clearly aged from time. The words were spoken quite nicely, but Nala can tell a small growl is beneath them. To her dismay, all the females walk past her to leave out the door behind them, each and every one looking at like she is a Hard Meat. It took too long for them all to leave, but all the while no one said a single word. When at last it was just the Matriarch and Nalas group, she sighs with relief. For some reason she feels so free when all the other females are gone, she has never been one for female friendship.

“Why would you make us wait?” The Patriarch approaches Zanjui from the side, but his posture is one that they can all see shows his tension.

“I was discussing the situation with my advisors.” She says and turns her head only slightly towards Ras’Lech. “And getting rather odd news from Tegon, seems the female refused to receive her piercing.”

“Nalani has different physiology and so does not need that custom.” He tries.

“But it is a custom nonetheless.” Suddenly the Matriarch twists around and stares directly into Nalanis’ eyes. But what she sees is not what she expected. Nala thought the top Yautja of their whole world would be more put together. But she looks like every other female she had seen. She doesn’t wear any clear and present indication that she is who she is. Her face is marked so heavily with scars that one of her eyes cannot open all of the way, it always looks half closed no matter what she does. Even one of her mandibles is cracked in half, looking half the size of all the other ones.

“Matriarch.” Nala says in a greeting manner, bowing her head respectfully. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“I feel the same Nalani, although I have only heard of you for too long and now that I see you, I do not know what the males see.” She tells almost crudely. “I watched everything, every little bit of footage of your time with us and I do not know why the Clan Leader of the Ehre would welcome you in. Explain yourself Lord Khupiee.”

“As honorable as Nalani is, and from what she had done in my presence at our meeting and every moment since, she has done nothing but prove to me that my decision was not out of boredom or a strange need to know what may happen. But the Ooman species could never give her what we could.” Lord Khupiee doesn’t falter in his words. His eyes do not move and there is not one ounce of question in Nalas mind that he means it.

“You and the Patriarch had welcomed a female, an Ooman female at that, into our world without my consultation!” She hisses, her eyes glaring at Nala, but she never blinks.

“A moment Zanjui.” Ras’Lech moves close to her side, Zanjuis’ anger fading a great much. In silence, they leave to a corner of the room that is so far away that no one would be able to hear. Behind her, Nala can feel someone approaching her back, getting so close she can feel his Awu’asa on her back. But by the smell she could tell that it wasn’t Dhm’Ni, even though she wishes it to be.

“You know,” Thr’ik whispers into her ear. “The Matriarch and Patriarch were once involved. They have more than nine children together, unheard of by a mating pair who are not lifemates.”

“Why are they no longer together?” Nala asks softly.

“They had planned on becoming lifemates, to get the coveted blue mark on their chest. But the Matriarch, at the last moment, said she did not want to any longer. And since then the Patriarch has never been the same towards her, but so many seasons later, we all can tell she wants him, but he won’t.” And to match the new information, Nala watches Zanjui grab Ras’Lech’s hand rather affectionately, but smoothly though coldly, he takes it back, his mandibles moving faster but his words still quiet. “Even after she could no longer have offspring, her drive to mate is just the same as an adolescent.”

“Do not disrespect your Matriarch with such words.” Sya slaps Thr’ik right upside the head, the sound making the two talking in the corner look at them for just a moment before continuing their conversation. And that conversation didn’t go on for much longer, the Patriarch turning away from her rather abruptly. He comes back but does not tell them about what they were talking about, just giving Nala a small nod. Zanjui, though, stays where she is, staring out through a window into nothing. Feeling a sense of foreboding that she was not coming back, Nala grabs Syas hand, but only for a moment so that no one else would see. He squeezes her hand tightly and gives her a smile with his eyes. Suddenly Nala tries to remember seeing any kind of emotion on any of the others with her, from Lord Khupiee to the Patriarch, nothing. Well, she guesses that is the way it is.

“Nala does not have to receive the piercing.” Zanjui says finally after turning back to them. “Though my judgment of your rights is still in question. I have no quam with you being a huntress, or even becoming a highly decorated one. But mating with males, I wonder why you think you have the right to do such a thing. I am worried that you have come into this world thinking you will be easily welcomed by everyone.”

“I make so assumptions.” Nala offers the truth. “Matriarch, I know that without a doubt my transition into this world will be met with challenges, and I would never go anywhere thinking I wouldn’t be seen as an outsider.” Slowly and without knowing, she starts taking small but strong steps towards the Matriarch, her body tall and strong.

“Come here so I can see your face.” She calls her over. Nala walks up to her but looks at her chest plate, keeping herself from looking the Matriarch in the eyes. And for a mysterious reason, she bends her knees and bows gracefully. She wonders for a moment why it is so natural to be submissive to this female, but she did not become to Matriarch for no reason. Zanjui lifts Nalas head gently by the chin, tilting her head this way and that. “You would have made a trophy that even the most decorated of hunters would be envious of. But I think they would also wish to have half of your scars.” She slants Nalas head to the left so she can properly look at her neck scar, squinting her eyes at critically. “Your whole body is marked, almost as equally as mine.” Zanjui laughs deeply, though it sounds more like an engine starting up. “But your face…” She clicks her mandibles together in a disapproving manner. And then to Nalas shock, the Matriarch touches her lips lightly and then her nose up to her brow. “You have such small features, no mandibles, no true skin texture to you. Even your spots.” She nearly scratches off one of her freckles on her shoulder.

“I do change colors, depending on how much sun I get.” Nala laughs and smiles nicely. With a sigh, the Matriarch walks away to once again to look out the window. She shakes her head and crosses her arms tightly.

“My counselors are calling for her to be tested. My people are calling for her to never set foot on sacred ground. My instincts tell me to give her a chance. While my experiences tell me to do otherwise.”

“Matriarch I beg of you.” Nala suddenly runs to her side and kneels down to one knee. “I know that I will forever be wearing a mask that will fool no one, and that until the day my heart stops beating I will be fighting for my right to not only be a female, but to be alive. I simply beg for the chance.” Zanjui snaps her head down to watch with wide eyes.

“So you see, She told you what you needed to know.” Ras’Lech states plainly. “And She has advised you to give the one who repeats her words a life of the Yautja, to be given the same gift we were.”

“So it may seem.” The Matriarch once again lifts Nalas head by the chin and they stare into each others’ eyes for what seems like an eternity. “I welcome you, Nalani of the Ehre Clan, to our world. You will be met with a great number of challenges, and challengers. I believe that the tests of your life from your birth to now were only times to study and reflect upon. Now that you will truly live with the gift, you will have your test. But you see, the deception is the test never ends. You will always be in study, and always be ready for whatever may come. And I think you will do just fine. Maybe even quite well. We shall see. It was a pleasure to meet you, little one.” She turns away to leave the room, not saying a goodbye to anyone else.

“It was an honor, Matriarch.” Nala calls just as the doors begin to close. At the sound of the doors closing however, she gives way and falls to her bottom, nearly crying with joy.

“You are too odd.” Thr’ik drops down beside her, placing his head on her lap as they both rest on their backs.

“Oh I am odd? Coming from the male with a square scar on his ass. Do me the favor of telling me the reaction of the next female you mate with when she sees it.” They both laugh wholeheartedly, ignoring the talking going on behind them.

“The conversation between Paya and any Matriarch and Patriarch is rarely shared.” Ras’Lech whispers to Lord Khupiee and Sya. “But like Nalani had repeated Payas words to me when we fought, she just repeated Payas words to the Matriarch just then.”

“It will be a long time before we know the Goddesses plans for the little one.” Sya sighs, though he is smiling greatly inside. He looks over his shoulder and shakes his head at seeing Dhm’Ni looking sullen. Well, that is what he gets for forgetting Nalas name. Sya is in fact rather happy that Dhm’Ni had done what he did. Maybe now Nala will look elsewhere for male companionship.

“Will you two stop lounging in the Matriarchs’ resting room.” Lord Khupiee barks at them, Nala and Thr’ik standing instantly. “We have to name you now.” He says and quickly ushers the group back through the many halls and lifts and corridors to the large room they had first gone into after exiting the ship, all of the Yautja still there. Sya makes Nala place her mask back on before she is moved to stand in front of Lord Khupiee, behind him is the whole population of both ships. But behind her are the rest of them, all of the other Yautja that had come to see her. They had been waiting for her, like she was a sideshow. Just needing another moment to look at the attraction, the abomination.

“The female has been welcomed by the Matriarch.” The Patriarch addresses the crowds. “The leader of the Ehre Clan has been given the responsibility of renaming the new addition.”

“Though I have had many names come to mind to give you,” He starts and approaches Nala. “With information such as you having three names, I have had to rethink many things. So I give you this name of Siechi’bal Avthan. In our ancient language, it means ‘she who dances with death’.”

“Very appropriate.” Sya chimes in. Nala bows her head in thanks and that was it. She closes her eyes to try to remember this moment of finally being in something, of being included in something real and tangible. But in her eyes, in the darkness, she sees nothing. Can she truly have a future here? With this species? No one knows. Right?

“” “” “” “”
What came next will always haunt Nala to her very core. Not only does she have a new name that no one really uses, its intent and need only for formal purposes, but she was sent to an arena where she was to fight the Matriarchs personal choice. Maybe she picked that female because of her skills, or her clear and unadulterated hate Nala could see burning in the females eyes from across the room. Around the arena, there are some Yautja standing on the stairs to watch, males and females. She had to change into more suitable wear of course, it felt so good to have her Awu’asa back on and not that formal dress. Sya helps by adjusting a back strap so it fits tighter, checking so it would not fall or slip. Nala cracks her hands, linking them together them pushing out. The cracks though were not all natural, her metal fingers clinking. After a while she had gotten used to them, but in the long run she had a lot of trouble with her back. Sometimes she would try to jump or twist, and she would be overcome with such a great amount of pain that all she could do to stop it would be to lay down and not move, something she hates doing. But the pain would always go away, her half metal spine forgotten for the rest of the day.

The fight had started out as every other fight, with a bow to start it then a few hits here and there to really test the opponent. But when the female jumps higher then Nala is tall, she just stands there shocked. The female lands behind her, punching her back so hard she flies nearly twenty feet before finally stopping. Quickly getting to her feet, Nala twists and charges, kneeing the female in the stomach. Her next few moves show the crowed exactly why she is called ‘she who dances with death.’ Nala starts moving her feet so fast, doing circles around and around the female, hitting her in just the right spots with her fists and weapons, dancing her ballet of fighting. But then suddenly, the female twists around, her long hair raising in the air, and with one arm she wipes the black tresses down onto Nalas back. The scream that escapes her lungs is one Nala thought she would never hear again. The sharp points of the females hair slashes into her skin better than any Ooman made whip. Her unguarded back is hit three times so deep that the metal of her spine sparkles in the lights.

The female, at seeing her new weapon, grabs a hand full of her hair and starts a merciless attack, hitting her back twice more, her legs three times each. But when she tries to get her arms, Nala cracks. Her memories of her past overwhelms her and she forgets the fact that she does not want to cause harm to any females and she grabs the females’ feet, pulling them out from under her. Even though her legs are bleeding from deep gashes, Nala gets up and walks on top of the female, standing on her back. She bends down and clutches two of the longest piece of hair and, after placing a foot on the back of the females’ neck, starts to pull. Nala tugs with all of her strength, the female under her scream in agony as the two tresses are pulled off of the back of her head. With her green glowing blood dripping off the severed ends, Nala simply turns and walks away to give room for the female to stand. If she thinks she is going to get out of this fight without any scars, she is dead wrong.

“What is wrong with you Ooman?” She hisses loudly, just so the rest of the arena can hear her. But Nala, not caring about the females safety, starts to circle the long weapons in her hands, snapping the ends close to the females mask. Charging, the female is stopped in her tracks when Nala whips her leg with a single snap. But then she gives her another to her arm, then another and another. All the while they are moving backwards, the female trying to move slowly away but Nala keeps to her viscous onslaught. In her anger, she lifts both of her arms up and brings them down to slash the females across her chest, her green blood practically flowing out. Her roars of pain were music to Nalas ears, something inside of her wanting to get revenge for the female giving her new scars. But this was getting boring for her, she needed to finish this fight. Dropping one of the black weapons in hand, Nala runs up and jumps high to plant her feet on the female chest, bringing her down to the ground. She turns the bleeding body over to her stomach and wraps the remaining tress around her throat. The female garbles a roar and starts to rip at Nala hands, but she is holding it too high for to her reach. In a matter of moments the female is motionless, knocked unconscious from the loss of blood and no air.

‘Stop Siechi…’ She hears in her ears. ‘Do not cause such death on your first day with your gift…’ It says again. More in shock then in understanding, Nala drops the female to the ground, the Yautja filling her lungs with air though she is still out. Looking around franticly to see who had spoken to her, Nala can’t find a single Yautja close enough to have said it so quietly. She looks over to Sya and his face is just like all the others, stunned and a little mortified that she had gone so far as to rip out the females tresses. Somewhere someone declares her the winner of the challenge and out of nowhere more than ten healers come out. But the only one that comes to serve her wounds is Kh’Cho, the healer from Lord Khupiees ship. She doesn’t even feel the pain as he applies the cauterizing lotion to her back, she doesn’t even smell the offensive stench of her own flesh burning.

“Nala…” Kh’Cho stands in front of her, but she doesn’t respond. In a trance, Nala slips off one of the females rings from her ripped off hair and places it in her Awu’asa. The next thing she knows Sya is by her side, leading her off into a private room where the healers look at her more carefully. Now they pay attention to her, when the world isn’t looking at them. Sya takes off her mask and with a damp cloth washes off the bit of blood that had come from her mouth.

“Did you talk to me?” She asks him.

“I have been trying to talk to you for some time.” He laughs.

“No, I mean…just before I dropped the female…did you tell me to stop?” Nala looks up at him and at seeing her utter confusion, Sya sits down beside her.

“No one can contact you through your mask while fighting. No one could have said anything to you. Did you hear something?” He asks, making sure to say ‘something’ and not ‘someone’.

“I heard something, and it told me to stop and not to cause death of my first day with my gift.” She just shakes her head and covers her eyes with her hands. But if she hadn’t, she would have seen the absolute shock on Syas face.

“It must have been your mind playing tricks.” He offers, though he knows much, much more.

“” “” “” “”

One night a few days later, when Nala learned that not only does she have to move from her room on the Patriarchs ship to the one of the Hunters Worlds to live in and that she would be living in the same port with some of her friends, but her room was right next to Dhm’Nis. Just as the ship, each level is different to the Yautja. One is for the Unblooded, another for the Young Bloods and so on. Her room is too big for her to know what to do with. Sya just had to add that when he was a Young Blood he had to room with seven other hunters in a place twice as small. But then again, as Nala pointed out, that was so very long ago. Every little thing of hers had been placed in her new room, her trophy room looking so empty and her closet as well. She needed to do some shopping. The first thing she did was lay on her new, giant bed. But it doesn’t feel the same without the pelt of fur that was always on Dhm’Nis bed.

“We have many things to do before you rest today.” Sya pulls her off the bed. “We need to get a special shelf for your trophy room and you have a dinner with the Ehre Elders and then see the dressers.”

“I have my hair done already!” Nala exclaims, still adjusting to the new weight on her head.

“It is not just that, when we are not fighting to live, we simply live.” Sya laughs. As they leave her room, they run into Dhm’Ni and Thr’ik in the large hallway, Thr’ik being placed in a room two doors down.

“You haven’t been to see my room.” Thr’ik gives her a shake of the shoulder to say hello.

“I don’t know who has been in there.” Nala laughs, punching him in the side for her own hello.

“We must go.” Sya ushers so Nala and Dhm’Ni would not be given a chance to talk. So just giving him a small smile, Dhm’Ni nods to her just before they leave.

“Wow, Syas acting too much like her father.” Thr’ik laughs and elbows Dhm’Ni in the gut.

“Let’s go.” He grumbles and leaves his friend in the dust to go catch a transport to the society world so he can drink away what he did to Nala a few days ago. Thr’ik catches up quickly and all the while he is talking about finally getting back to their favorite world, Dhm’Ni only quiet.

Little less than an hour later, they walk through the wide doors into the busiest part of the place to see the best thing the Goddess can offer, her females. It was a dream, something they haven’t seen in so long and if they died right at this moment, they would tell Paya how great she was in her creation of these females. The smell was a mixture of their feminine musk and of the musk of males. Which, by itself is no good, but where there are many males, there are many females. Thr’ik, doing his best to be suave, glides away quickly to a group of females Dhm’Ni would never have any interest in. Maybe that is how good friendships work, if there is no competition over the females, males get along. Maybe. Just when Dhm’Ni is about to walk deeper into the room, he sees her for the second time in his life. He had never gotten her name, but he remembers her skin looking like the black forests’ of the homeworld. The top dresser of the Ehre Clan that he had delivered Nala too, and the female who made him forget her name. In an odd fashion the female, almost as if she knew he was looking at her, moves towards him in such a manner that it takes all the will Dhm’Ni has not to pump out every drop of his musk. Her long and thick legs take massive steps, her thighs showing through the side of her cloth. Her eyes are half lidded and she moves her hips in an exaggerated fashion to show them off, large hips being the perfect picture of a reproductive female. Her head slowly turns to match his gaze, and she smiles.

“I am Tegon.” She purrs as she gets closer, the sound making Dhm’Nis muscles clench.

“I am,” He starts.

“You are the Son of the Ehre Clan. I know who you are…” She smiles, her mandibles clicking gently. All it took to get him to take her into his bed was a small breathe in to catch the scent of her musk.

“” “” “” “”

“I hate shopping.” Nala drops down two giant handfuls of clothing to the ground, Sya quick to make her pick it up and start putting everything way.

“We would not have had to go so fast at the dressers if you had not spent nearly the whole day at the Awu’asa makers getting a custom trophy case.” He laughs at her and goes to view the newly installed case. Half of the wall, while still the normal open space to place skulls and the like, is filled with tiny, vertical slots for Nala to place the tress rings she gets from her challenges. After putting in the few she had, both Nala and Sya stare at it rather oddly, it is clear that she has to fill this up to make it look right. Her other trophies were up and glistening in the lights, the razor teeth of her Hard Meat staring at her sadly, making her smile. Her bed was so uncomfortable. Just sitting on it and getting a goodnight hug from Sya seemed unnatural, she missed the softness of Dhm’Nis’ bed, and she missed smelling him on the pillows and she missed hearing him breathe…She missed him. Nala waits five minutes after Sya left before she leaves her room and walks in front of Dhm’Nis door. She wonders if her hand print would work on this door, and if she came in what he would think. Maybe he wasn’t home. But if he wasn’t and he came home to smell that she was there, would he be mad? Or maybe he would think she wasn’t mad at him anymore. Or that she came here to kick his ass.

Down the large hall, Nala hears a group coming, laughing and talking loudly, so she quickly decides to go in and presses her hand down. To her surprise, the door opens up and she hurriedly goes in. She closes the door behind her too quickly, so fast that she doesn’t allow her senses to pick up that odor. Turning around slowly, Nala covers her mouth and nose slowly as the smell of musk hits her harder than a punch. Her eyes widen but the musk is so thick that it is hurting her eyes, making them water. She searches around the room to make sure that Dhm’Ni, and whoever he may be with, had not seen her and she runs out of the room. But in her haste, Nala runs into the group that she had entered the room to get away from. Happily though, it was Thr’ik and a few other males gabbing about females. He grabs her shoulders and asks if she is ok and putting on her best smile, Nala says she only has something in her eyes. But Thr’ik, knowing her as he does, waves the others away.

“Do not lie to me…” He whispers and leans down, making Nala feel strangely small.

“Dhm’Ni…He…” She starts but a hard lump that starts in her throat makes her stop. Thr’ik leans his head even lower and takes small sniff. Rearing his back, he shakes his head and blinks widely.

“I can tell.” He sighs.

“I really don’t want to go to sleep alone tonight.” With just a nod, he leads her a little ways past Dhm’Nis’ room to his own. His room looked to be actually lived in, since he had been given this room right after becoming a Young Blood. His walls were covered with bright red and yellow fabric with long tapestries hanging as well, all showing scenes of mountains and valleys. He even had very comfortable sofas with giant pillows. Before entering his room, Nala made sure to ask him if everything was clean, Thr’ik swearing that everything was good. She doesn’t even care that she is going down to her small undergarments to sleep, it was Thr’ik and she wanted to fall asleep with a friend. She clambers into his bed to find it way more comfortable then her other one, his pillows even a little too soft. She yawns loudly as he undresses, Thr’ik scratching his belly as he goes.

“So what were you up to?” She asks as he slides in next to her.

“I was making my children.” He tells triumphantly, Nala just sighing.

“” “” “” “”

“Again!” Sya roars as he trains with Dhm’Ni and many others. Even they could tell something was bothering their teacher, he was being more demanding then he has ever been. But they would never question him, so the large group goes through the fluent moves with the long and rather awkward weapon in their hands. For weeks they have been continuing their training, preparing for the other mandatory hunts all Young Bloods must go through. When Dhm’Ni had started these sessions, he thought Nala was going to be in the same class with him, but he soon learned that the females who were in the class refused to do it with her. But Nala being Nala, she bowed out to train with Sya alone, just so the females would be happy. He and many other males in the class are friends with Nala, and so decided to pay absolutely no attention to the females in their class, just to spite them. But Dhm’Nis greatest annoyance, and confusion, is that Ferca is in the class. She is not even a Young Blood but is a session to hunt with them. This must be her father’s doing, Arbitrator Dh’Kn wants her to have every option. But Ferca refuses to go through her Chiva, she does not want to die hunting the best game when she can get the same acclimation for getting other trophies.

She tries to talk to him every day, but to no use. Dhm’Ni would move away, grunt at her angrily and he was once forced to leave the class just to get away. But with all this happening, he misses Nala more than ever. She was the one person he could go to and talk about this, Thr’ik would encourage Ferca, His father as well. But Nala, she would support him and what he wants.

“What’s got your mind wondering?” He hears her shrill, disgusting voice behind him, causing his rhythm to be off and so dropping a weapon. Ferca, laughing as she approaches, walks in front of him smiling as sweetly as the sourest of fruits. “You have a great amount of vigor, Son of the Ehre Clan.” She never called Dhm’Ni by name, she didn’t want him, she just wants his title.

“Thank you.” He says, having to be civil while gathering his dropped weapon.

“Oh I am not talking about your skills, I am talking about your resistance to me. Though we both know you are doing this just to make me want you more.” She purrs her words in a vain attempt to get him sexually aroused, though she couldn’t do more to repel him.

“If you are not going to participate in this class Ferca, then I suggest getting out of it before you embarrass yourself with not knowing the material!” Dhm’Ni hisses back and walks to a different part of the training room, thankful she goes back to her own spot. His eyes flow back to his teacher, Sya watching the whole thing. But he knows those eyes, he knows he is doing something wrong. Every time he would do a mistake, Sya would look at him in such a manner; brows raised, eyes half shut, head tilted back, mandibles closed. But he should be concentrating on his movements, not his angry teacher. And not Nala. Just knowing that Sya was with her everyday made him spiteful. Something about it just wasn’t right. For a few more hours, the large group strained their muscles to remember the movements, not ending until it was flawless. At the end, everyone thanks Sya for his teachings and waits for him to leave before they sigh.

“You should not be so mean to the females.” Dhm’Ni hears behind him. He twists around slowly to see Nder jostling with a long piece of rope in his hands. “Ferca only wants your offspring.” He laughs.

“I do not want to give her my offspring.” Dhm’Ni grumbles back.

“I think it is best if you leave as soon as you can.” Nder walks close and leans in. “I know there is a rift between you and Nala lately, as usual, and she and I are going to be sparing here.”

“So I must leave?” He nearly roars in surprise. Does Nala want him to leave? Has it really become so bad that she does not want to be in the same room as he? All because he forgot her name?

“Oh I am not saying that she wishes you to go!” He laughs, his head shaking funnily. “Stay if you want.” Nder places a hand on Dhm’Ni’s shoulder, shaking roughly. “Enjoy the show.” Before Dhm’Ni can ask what show he meant, his heart suddenly begins to burst from his chest when he hears Nala enter the training deck. He can’t see her or smell her, but he can hear her footsteps. He can hear her breathing and if were even possible, Dhm’Ni can hear her smile.

“Thought you were not going to show.” Nder laughs at Nala as she steps into a square with him. Acting like they didn’t care, they talk as though the crowd around them was not getting bigger. For weeks they have been sparring and everyday more and more Yautja would watch them. And for good reason. Dhm’Ni moves closer but still behind a few taller males so to keep hidden from Nala, for some reason he feels a need to keep a distance from her. He peaks over a tall shoulder and smiles at seeing she had put her hair up in a giant bun, a few stray endings sticking out like sharp spikes.

“Have you seen this before?” The male beside him asks softly.

“No.” Dhm’Ni answers quickly.

“The female puts on a blind fold and Nder tries to fight her.”

“A blind fold? Why?” Before his question can be answered, Nala ties a thick piece of blank fabric around her head, covering not only her eyes, but also her nose and ears completely. He watches in awe as Nder begins to circle her like he would prey; his arms out, knees bend and eyes focused. She shakes her hands gently, flexing her fingers. “I do not understand what is happening.” Dhm’Ni whispers.

“It is a training exercise Sya wants us all to one day take. Papa forbid something happens to our eyes, or we lose an arm during a hunt. This is to help us know what to do when we are blind. But when Nala began to train with Nder, he noticed that not only could she tell exactly where we was, but when he moved, how he moved, everything. So he thought it was because she could smell where he was.”

“So he covered her nose.” Dhm’Ni says, stunned.

“But when that didn’t change anything, he covered her ears because he thought she could hear him move. But still no change. She could always tell where he was.” Cutting off their words, Nder tries to swipe at Nalas arm, but she quickly twists out of the way. She bends down in a defensive position and begins to follow the way her opponent moves.

“How is she doing it then?” Dhm’Ni asks, his eyes watching the fight intensely.

“I think it is her skin.” Another Yautja standing beside him answers. “It is so sensitive that she can feel the movements in the air.”

“I agree, I think it is her hair, there are millions of tiny hairs all over her body.” The other one says. “The air moves when Nder does and she feels it.”

“Watch.” It went on for no more than a half an hour before Nder had Nala in a headlock. The crowd began to thin but Dhm’Ni stood still. Seeing Nala having fun and laugh but still being defeated was funny, a sly smile on his face the whole time. He crosses his arms and watches the two sit down to catch their breath, Nala ripping off the blind fold. She takes a deep breath in and to his shock, she turns her head towards him slowly. They smile at each other awkwardly as he walks closer, each step making his stomach twist and heart beat harder. Nder sighs loudly and shakes his head at them.

“Do you want me to…” He leans towards the door.

“Please.” Nala smiles at him. After giving each other and short goodbye, she watches his red-spotted body leave. “Let’s make talk.” Both she and Dhm’Ni laugh at the memory from so long ago. He sits down and sighs, not willing to look at her yet. “Where can we start?”

“From the beginning maybe?” He offers.

“Well you have never really clarified why you were chasing me on that island.” She laughs, going all the way back to the very beginning.

“I was running after you because Sya told me too.” Dhm’Ni looks up to her, a smirk lighting up his face.

“I think we both need to take a break from doing what he says.”

“” “” “” “”

Hidden in a far corner, with a horde females around her, Ferca stares at the talking couple intensely. Her mandibles twitch in frustration every time either one of them laughs, and especially when ever the Ooman would touch Dhm’Ni. Her tiny little hands would reach out and touch his knee, or his chin. It makes something in her blood boil. Ferca taps her sharp fingers against a wall, thinking of what she can do. She knows one thing for sure; she needs to have the grandchild of the Clan Leader. Just thinking about the prestige she would get makes her mind swirl in millions of directions. Her name would be famous, her stature in the clan would rise to unthinkable, something she yearns for. Ferca had always been told by her father, Elder Dh’Kn, to work for the best. But why not work for the best while staying alive. She knows that she has to do many things to make up for refusing to do her Chiva. But she also knows that risk of doing such a thing; it wasn’t worth it. But the only thing that will put her name on every single mandible is having the child of Dhm’Ni, the son of the Ehre Clan. It is a must. There is no other option.

“” “” “” “”

“He said what?” Nala falls to one side, holding her stomach in pure laughter.

“He said ‘I consider you my prey you know. And my blades are not the only things that shoot up for you’.” Dhm’Ni, laying on his side, chuckles at telling another story about Thr’ik and his attempts at getting a female. The pair had failed to notice that the day had come and gone and the training deck had emptied
completely.

“Was he successful?” She asks.

“The child is probably questioning its mother judgment in her belly as we speak.” He laughs, though they know it is all in good fun.

“What about you?” Nala says softly. “Are you…expecting?” Her eyes become so wide that the blue stuns him for more than a moment. Dhm’Ni would have gladly spent forever looking at all the different specks of dark blue that ringed the lighter in the middle. He would have been happy to just stare at time until the end of time. But that question had an answer.

“Tegon messaged me a few days ago, my first child is due early next season.” Another piece of her heart is taken just hen, a piece she doubts she will ever get back. Forcing a smile, Nala says a soft congratulations, the appropriate question of its gender coming up. “My father will be happy to know a grandson is on the way.”

“You have not told him?” She asks surpised.

“No, I am rather fearful too.” He laughs.

“Go now before the news gets to him!” Nala ushers him for many reasons. With a defeating sigh, Dhm’Ni gives in to the need to tell the news and stands up ready to leave.

“Do you want to come with me to share the news?” He asks funnily. But with a decline and an excuse of further training, he leaves her with a sift goodbye.

Nala turns onto her back, staring up to the roof of the training room. Placing her hands behind her back, she breaths out slowly to keep from crying. What was it about his news that makes her heart shatter? She has not felt like this since she watched Allen die. Oh Allen, she has not thought of him in a long time. Once in a while she would wonder if he was watching over her, looking in on her to keep her safe, something he always did. Her stomach clinches painfully when she thinks she should have gone with Dhm’Ni to tell his father the news, but what if she went with him and he said ‘I am having a grandson for you father,’ and Lord Khupiee thinks it is Nala who having his grandson? Unintentionally, Nala moans at the thought. She places a hand over her lower stomach, but when she realizes there is nothing in there, she bursts into tears, the hot droplets rolling down her face. Was she ever going to grow up and have a family? Was she ever going to have anything? Can she live long enough to get past being a Young Blood? Without a doubt she will die before even the oldest of Yautja, Oomans do not live that long compared. In aggravation, Nala growls to herself, she shouldn’t be thinking such sad things. Who knows what she will do in her life, she sure does not and that is more frightening than anything.

“” “” “” “”

Dhm’Ni lays asleep, his head hanging off the side of the bed with this mouth wide open. The drunken coma was in fact welcome, a celebration his father held in honor of his grandsons conceiving. He knows that in the morning he will feel the full brunt of it, but that too is welcome. When he truly needed absolute silence, his body nearly convulses at the sound of his door opening. The light from the hallways invades his sitting room, a small crack of it leaking into his bedroom. A sickening lump forms in his throat as Dhm’Ni wakes up, the threat of vomit inescapable. The small door to his room opens softly, and to let whomever it was now he was awake, and alive, Dhm’Ni groans.

“Hello gorgeous.”

“Nala!” Dhm’Ni smiles and writhes around on his bed in an attempt to get up, but no such luck.

“Are you drunk?” She asks, walking to the side of the bed his head is hanging off.

“Not anymore. I think…” Without warning he burps, the stench flowing up Nalas nose, making her cover both her nose and mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Dhm’Ni swiftly jumps off the bed and runs into the bathroom, but instead of using what one might think, he simply leans over the end of his bath, letting the contents of his stomach out. Behind him, Nala approaches slowly, placing a hand softly at the small of his back. As she moves closer to his head, her hands travels up his back and he shivers, her cool skin making him feel amazing yet sicker as well.

“Poor Dhm’Ni.” She sings, and without question Nala holds back all of his tresses as he belts out a few more stomachs full of vomit. Once he was finished, she begins to run the bath full of water to wash everything out, but also soaking a cloth in hot water. Nala gets him to lay on his back, her head in her lap and she begins to clean his mouth, each mandible was given great care, all of his teeth and even his inner mouth. All the while Dhm’Nis eyes are in the back of his head in bliss, the caresses of her cleaning nearly euphoric. He is almost asleep when she is done, petting his giant forehead to wake him up fully. “Lets’ get you into bed.” She whispers into his ear, him purring a ‘yes’. With a struggle, they get him to the bed and laying properly in it. But as Nala begins to cover him with his blankets, he notices she is not putting his fur one on. He is just about to ask her when she says a very fast ‘bye’ and grabs the pelt, heading for the door. Despite still feeling sick and the fact all the lights had been turned off, Dhm’Ni jumps out of bed fast and runs after her. Just as his door opens to the hallway, he grabs her from behind and pulls her back into his bedroom, her laughing and begging to be let go.

“Where do you think you are going with that?” He asks, carrying her to the bed.

“I can’t sleep without it! My bed is so uncomfortable!” Nala explains as she is dropped onto the bed. Dhm’Ni, though, slides right next to her a without even looking pulls her down to lay with him and throws the pelt over both their bodies.

“It is not that you cannot sleep without the pelt Nala, it is that you cannot sleep without me.” He finally says what they both know but would never admit. “Just as I cannot sleep without you.” If only he could have seen her blush and smile, but the darkness of his room did not allow for any sight. Nala just sighs and lays on her back for him to go into his favorite spot, his head on her stomach and arms up to wrap around her shoulders. Within moments he asleep, but before Nala could even think of it, she pushes her fingers deep into his tresses, the soft skin on the back of his head making him purr deeply. The vibrations go through her, her hips instinctively revolving upwards at the pleasure of his body being pushed against her sex. That being a pleasure she has not had in so long.

“Dhm’Ni?” She calls out, he can’t be awake if she does this. But should she? Could she? But she needs to! “Dhm’Ni!” She calls again, but no reaction. Her legs open wider and wrap around his chest, her feet locking in place and at the same moment turning her hips up perfectly. Nala starts to massage his skin again, gaining his low purr and vibrations. Her head falls back in pure pleasure as she can feel it begin to arouse her body, her neither lips pulsing and becoming drenched. Every time Dhm’Ni breathes his chest is forced harder against her folds, and to be sure not to make a sound, Nala bites her bottom lip. It doesn’t take for her to get into the rhythm of trusting her hips upwards when he breathes in, but when she adds in her massage of his sensitive skin, Nalas mouth opens wide in a silent scream of orgasm as it rages through her body. Her back arches painfully, her legs contract around Dhm’Nis chest and her nails dig into the back of his head. Finally when she is able to breath, Nala relaxes but then gasps at what she just did. She looks down at the giant head on her stomach and nearly screams in embarrassment. How could she have just done that? No matter what the reason, she can’t do it again. Ever. No way. No how. It takes a little while, but she gets out of his grasp and to the bathroom, the last thing she needs is Dhm’Ni smelling her stupidity. The words ‘never again’ chatting in her head for the rest of the night.

“” “” “” “”

Dhm’Ni wakes with a very heavy weight on his back, only to find a sleeping Nala on him. Grumbling a remark of ‘no wonder why it hurts to breath’, he shifts her to lay next to him, her chest to his with her forehead resting just at his choler bone. As usual, during the night she had taken off all but her smallest shirt, and the temptation for Dhm’Ni to touch her skin is overwhelming. His fingers dance nervously just above her spine, but the warmth of it was so inviting that they are soon traveling up and down the indent. Her long sigh makes him smile, but her own smile makes him aroused. Dhm’Ni clatters his mandibles together as his body betrays him again and his sex begins to grow. He is just about to escape to the bathroom once more then she shifts closer and he has to put that task to a later time. But once more, he uses the image of Ferca to displace his arousal.

But as if she knew he was thinking about her, in what capacity it did not matter, Ferca strolls up to his door with a key-card in hand. With it being so early in the morning, the halls are empty. She had stayed up all night to be able to get here so early, once news came to her that the dresser was pregnant, her anger for not being the first was so grand she had thought about killing the son of the Ehre Clan, but then how would she get pregnant by him? She looks every which was before sliding the key-card into a small slot in his hand-reader, the green light a welcome sight. The door opens and with a smug smile she strolls in, even turning on the lights as she goes. Her sun colored skin practically glows in the light, but with the dark décor of Dhm’Nis room anything would stand bright. Once she finds the door to his room, she walks into it and turns the light on. But what she sees was not what she expected.

“Ferca?” Dhm’Ni mutters.

“What are you doing? Are you pauked in the head?” She screams, finally waking up Nala. She looks between her and Dhm’Ni, her sleepy mind not getting what is going on.

“Who is that?” She asks him.

“I am Ferca! I have come here to mate with Dhm’Ni but I see you have gotten to it first!” Nalas eyes open wide, how could she have known what she did last night? But she didn’t mate with Dhm’Ni, she just did something very wrong.

“We have never mated Ferca. Get out of my room, now!” He orders, stepping off the bed and stands aggressively. Ferca though does not take the warning and suddenly jumps onto the bed, right on top of Nala.

“Stupid Ooman!” She screeches as she tries to punch Nala in the face, but she is pulled out of the way as Dhm’Ni grabs one of her arms. He yanks her off the bed and sands her up on her feet, though wobbly at first. Before either of them can do another thing, Ferca jumps out and pushes both of Nalas shoulders. And without thinking, Nala pushes back.

“Get the hell out of here!” Nala pushes so hard that Ferca flies across the room, slamming into a wall so hard the dent would have to be taken care of professionally. Dhm’Ni grabs her hand to make sure she does not go anywhere, wanting that female out of his room.

“I am going to kill you tonight, you stupid, disgusting Ooman!” She hisses. “You have never fought a good female before!”

“I am not fighting you!” Nala yells, her hand grasping Dhm’Nis forearm hard.

“Yes, you are.” Dhm’Ni says, stunning her. “She challenged you, and you pushed back.” He says gloomily. “And with the reason of the fight, mating rights, it is to the death.”

“No, no I am not going to!” Nala says again.

“You have no other option!” Ferca tries to jump at her again, but Dhm’Ni steps between them and throws the female out into the sitting room.

“Get out before I declare you a trespasser!” He roars so loud that her lungs shake. Ferca and Nala stare at each other for a long moment, both of them wishing they had their weapons on hand. Finally Dhm’Ni gets into the intruding females face, his mandibles wide open in pure anger and roars again, Ferca turning on a dime and running out of the room. He stands breathing roughly, Nala behind him not understanding what has happened. She slowly walks forwards and to his shock but pealsure, Nala wraps her hands around his waist and rests her head on his back. Her fingers are so far apart it would have been funny but for the fact that her soft palms are making his skin shiver.

“What just happened?” She asks in a whisper. Not truly wanting too, Dhm’Ni breaks her hold on him and turns to face her.

“When there is a dispute among females about mating with a male, and there is a challenge to a fight, it is to the death and the winner gets to mate with the male.”

“But…I don’t want to mate with you.” Nala says and in that moment both of them look down, wishing things were different.

“We must go see Sya.” He says and turns to get dressed. Closing her eyes, Nala convinces herself not to cry, not to go to him and say that she is not sure what she wants anymore. She wants to tell him what she did last night, the pleasure she had gotten from him even though he was asleep. But her fear of what he might say over takes what she wants and she too gets dressed. She needs to know what all this with Ferca means.

“” “” “” “”

Authors Note: Just a quick chapter to get me back into the swing of writing.