Chiva

Hello there people! Here's another chapter. Short, yes, but I'm thinking I like these small intervals, keeps me paced. Hope it doesn't bother you all too much. :P

Word of the day!

Lou-dte Kalei: Child maker (female Yautja, male insult)

I think there are a few typos in this one that I didn't catch, and for that I'm sorry, but yeah, I'll go over things again in the future. Happy reading!


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Anthea plucked a ripe piece of fruit from the naxa tree and tossed it fifty feet down below. Kro’nha effortlessly caught the naxa, wasting no time in taking a bite afterward. He looked up as he chewed, observing her as she crouched on her perch with one leg dangling playfully over the edge. Her mask sat beside her as she ate. Two weeks had passed since their encounter with clan Guan H’dlak, and her little injury had healed up quite nicely. It had been tended to quickly enough, and their medicinal knowledge was so advanced that now there was no proof whatsoever that she’d been assaulted.

“I don’t like how much you neglect your mask.” Kro’nha plainly stated and took another bite of the fruit. She knew he was right; she probably did neglect her mask more than she should have, and lately it was a habit that seemed to get her into trouble. She took one more bite of her food before speaking again with a teasing grin.

“What Kro, are you worried that I’ll pass out again and fall helplessly into your arms?” She asked with flirtatious sarcasm as she swooned dramatically with the back of her hand against her brow.

“No,” Kro’nha began calmly after finishing his bite. “Only that you’ll be naked.” His blurted thoughtlessly.

“W-what?” She stammered and suddenly lost her grip from the branch, plummeting from her spot. Kro’nha dropped his fruit and he darted forward to catch her. Anthea landed directly into his arms, her heart was pounding furiously in her chest. Her mind was elsewhere though; she didn’t give a second thought to nearly crashing to her doom. “You saw me naked?!” She shouted. Kro’nha’s complexion instantly turned from its usual yellowish complexion to an almost orange; the sign of an embarrassed and quite possibly flustered Yautja warrior. In that instant he negligently dropped his arms and she fell flat on her back.

Anthea cursed under her breath as she sat up, rubbing at her lower back. She scowled toward Kro’nha’s retreating back and she quickly stood.

“Hey!” She shouted down at him with fueled upset. “I asked you a question! Come back here!” When he didn’t stop she marched toward him until she snatched his shoulder and spun him around to face her. His expression was stern and had her helplessly silenced. His gaze softened once he touched her cheek. His other hand ran freely through her long curly tendrils. She lost herself again like before, placing her hands over his forearm and turning her face to hide her lips in his palm. His other hand fell from her thick burgundy hair to the small of her back, gingerly tugging her forward. That delightfully flustered feeling overwhelmed her senses again as her body pressed against his. “Kro…” She whispered breathlessly as gold met lavender, the couple’s gaze both terrified and courageous.

A bewildered scream cut through their silence and the couple jumped to attention like frightened mice.

The voice was obviously that of a youngling, and instantly their hunter’s instincts took over.

“Get your mask.” Kro’nha told her before they both set out in pursuit of the distressed call. A short distance along the way they’d discovered the location of the victim’s voice.

Stately placed in the branch of a tree was a fully grown feral wolf. Unlike the kind displayed in Ooman books, this wolf was nearly twice in size. The thick needle-like bristles of fur lining down the animal’s spine raised on end as it looked ready to pounce for a meal. This seemed like a silly notion considering the dire creature already had its prey dangling from its frothing jaws.

The little female Yautja wriggled from her spot hanging over the high branch, the animal suspended the poor thing by her long locks. She was far too young to even be outside of her village, let alone starting her first trial.

As both Anthea and Kro’nha stood ready with weapons bared, she quickly realized why the animal arched its shoulders; it was going to run. She clenched her staff while readying a balanced position as she kept her eyes locked on the animal. Kro’nha noted her actions and briefly glanced at her through his mask.

“Anthea, don’t,” he whispered to her gravely, “you’ll risk hitting her.” She glanced back at him through her own mask, only for a second and easily disregarding his words. “Anthea!” His whisper turned into a hiss, and this time she looked back at him, though keeping her posture so the animal felt intimidated enough to stay still. Kro’nha shook his head. Slowly she turned her gaze back to the animal as it growled ferociously at the couple. The little one wriggled again and squealed defiantly. The wolf’s hind legs reared and she knew it was going to jump clean over their heads. This was her chance! Her plan was good. Well, considering the fact that it was the only plan she had at the moment other than blindly charging up the tree like a dolt.

It jumped finally and Anthea crouched down, her weapon just waiting to strike. Kro’nha cursed under his breath as she readied her attack. He took a hasty step forward, but just as hastily stopped himself, knowing that she was going to move before he got to her; he couldn’t increase the likeliness of her missing.

It soared over their heads, its underbelly shamelessly exposed as its legs sprawled out. The little one screamed yet again, writhing against the wolf’s clenched grip. In the midst of the air this predator lost its equilibrium and faltered.

Anthea leapt upward, thrusting her staff heavenward with all her might. The animal howled miserably as the female hunter hit her target dead in the heart. The young Yautja tumbled from the animal’s mouth and Kro’nha jumped from his frozen place and caught her easily.

The beast fell dead to the ground and Anthea yanked her staff from its chest. She turned around to face her friend as he scowled at her through his mask. She definitely didn’t need him to remove his mask to know that he was upset with her. She sheathed her weapon and placed her hands on her hips, arrogantly shrugging her shoulders. “It worked, didn’t it?” She asked him honestly. Kro’nha rolled his eyes and gently placed the child on her feet. Anthea knelt before the child and touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?” The little one nodded as she tried to compose herself. This gave the older woman a smile as she asked her next question. “What clan are you from?”

“Guan H’dlak.” She answered simply up at her. Anthea suppressed rolling her eyes as she looked up at Kro’nha who jerked his shoulder in a gesture of irony.

“Who’da thought…” Anthea replied sardonically. This only made the little one tilt her head to the side in confusion.

As they neared the youngling’s village Anthea weighed the pros and cons. It was a good thing that they’d found the girl in their territory, and maybe this would put H’chak Thwei in good light with Guan H’dlak, but then again, their chieftain had such a hostile attitude. He was probably just looking for an excuse to cut her head off.

Kro’nha could nearly hear the wheels in her head turning as they all silently approached their destination. They’d both removed their masks just a moment ago, and he could see that she wasn’t hiding her worry. He stopped her in her tracks to place a reassuring hand over her shoulder. She looked up at him, realizing why he’d stopped her and hurried to stifle her emotions.

“Breathe.” Kro’nha said to her. “This is a good thing.” Anthea nodded quickly and took a deep breath. The little one tugged at the older Yautja’s hand in impatience and they continued.

Syt’ka stared down at the couple from two weeks prior with his normal intimidating scowl. That Ooman girl stared back at him like before, shameless and unafraid. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Ko’tak had to take her in and raise her among their kind. This heathen girl even thought she was qualified as one of their kind. She may have been taught their ways, but she was still just as frail and vulnerable as the next soft meat.

Still, he sighed inwardly as the little Yautja approached him, she did do a good deed. It was a commendable action considering how indecent they were toward their clan. He may not have liked the fact that his former friend had raised an outsider, but both she and her partner did perform a good act, and it was more than enough to atone for the mistake they’d made with the basilisk.

“Ni’la’naya, go find your mother.” He said in a tone Anthea hadn’t suspected in him and watched him gently pat her head. The little one nodded obediently and turned to bow graciously to her saviors before running off.

Syt’ka clapped a fist over his chest respectfully and tilted his head to the couple. He still looked hateful, Anthea thought, but at least he was being civilized. Perhaps she’d been quick to judge him before. Both she and Kro’nha returned the elder’s gesture.
“You bring honor to your clan. Go with pride and know that all is forgiven.” His tone was still gruff, but his words were sincere. She and Kro tilted their heads in one more solemn bow before turning to leave.

Tal’lik approached his elder’s side with folded arms as he watched the couple leave. “You’ve forgiven them?” He asked resentfully, staring forward at the retreating pair. Syt’ka simply nodded. “Why?” He pressed on even though he knew the answer. The elder remained silent as his underling impatiently waited for an answer. “You detest that heathen little outsider just as much as I do! So why do you forgive them?” He demanded, arms unfolded now as he faced his senior. Syt’ka turned to face the angry Yautja. He folded his own arms this time and shot him a glare. Tal’lik wasn’t perturbed by his eye contact. He was stupid to be unafraid, he knew, but his anger and hatred clouded most of his rational thinking.

“They are good people.” Syt’ka spoke truthfully, regardless of his xenophobic ideals.

“Don’t give me that, Syt’ka! You’re such a hypocrite!” The elder growled down at his fuming partner and roughly yanked him off his feet by the scruff of his cloak.

“Speak more, Tal’lik, if you wish to lose your tongue!” The war torn Yautja only glared back at his elder, knowing full well that he wouldn’t go so far. The elder owed him everything. Over the years Tal’lik had risked his life for his superior more times than he’d cared to think about.

The trip so far was quiet. They weren’t heading back to the village yet, and so they had no general direction to go to but away from the other clan’s territory.

“So, are we going to talk about this?” Anthea asked honestly, her tone of voice soft and curious. There were a few steps of silence before she got a response.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Elsewhere, a certain old Yautja warrior was fueling his own fire of hate. In his private quarters, Tal’lik fumed with furious hatred for this soft skinned Lou-dte Kalei.

“We are owed blood. This Ooman has lived among our people for long enough. Her presence is like a disease, and this disease needs to be wiped out. She ‘will’ die.” Tal’lik gathered his equipment and left Guan H’dlak village with the hatred burning in his heart as his only means of motivation.