It was the work of another two days’ travel to get back to a familiar jungle. We had been slowed by the pups, but they were growing, if slowly. They still needed to be carried for the vast majority of the day’s walking, but after each break for a meal they would walk for about a mile or so and they began to shed the ungainliness of infancy and transition into a juvenile stage. I wasn’t sure what to call the stage between a pup and an adult, and didn’t much care to make the distinction.

Sybil wasn’t sure what to make of the little things, but they had been absolutely smitten with her. Whether that was because she was their main food provider, her magic, or something else entirely, I didn’t know nor care. All I knew for sure was that it was increasingly funny to watch her try to go about her usual duties with eight small puppies whining constantly for attention from her.

Initially I’d almost expected Sybil to force the pups away when not actively trying to domesticate them with her magic, but after one day they were trying their best to use their unsuited canine throats to shriek communications out in keelish. It only became obvious that that was what they were doing when they collectively began crying “Syb-bil. Syb-bil.” It was almost cute how the furry things almost worshiped her, and try as she might to the contrary, Sybil was a little affected by it. She began to train them in scent identification, and they took to it quickly, if still below the standards of a keelish tracker.

The rest of the swarm was slowly evolving, with the number of khatif reaching nearly 50. Most of those were from my clutch or the Alqat. In fact, at this point, all the Alqat had evolved to become khatif, and every one of them some mixture of the graceful, hunter, or warrior types. As the groups grew in number, I realized that we needed to come up with some way to refer to each caste without simply calling them “hunter type”, and after a brief conversation with Alaster we had come to decide that the new titles for the different castes should be for warrior caste, Hak’Tal; graceful or noble caste, Sou’Tal; civilian caste, Kha’Tal; and hunter caste Sik’Tal. The new labels for the castes began to filter through the swarm, and before long the idea of being called something with the ‘Tal became a badge of honor. The keelish began to work specifically towards qualifying to become a ‘Tal (which had become synonymous with khatif) of some sort and progress was quick among the more qualified members of the swarm.

Took particularly was frustrated with the swarm’s growth to khatif. Not because the swarm had grown more powerful, but because right when she had become confident of defeating Rulac in a duel, he evolved. Now that he was a khatif, he was just short of 2m in height and just as burly and surly as ever. That was, except when it came to Took.

“You there, beautiful warrior.”

“...”

“Strong huntress.”

“...”

“Perfect Huntmaster.”

“...”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Nothing, if possible.”

“But what would you do without my compliments and presence?”

“Celebrate.”

Chuckles from anyone within earshot. “Took, I’m wounded! I’ll treat you so nicely at night that–”

Took snapped and was at his throat immediately. It quickly devolved into a snarling wrestling match. Each time that Rulac tried to establish distance, Took would close it expertly and make sure to leverage her smaller stature against him. Once or twice she was nearly able to establish complete control over him, and Rulac began to realize that Took was his equal. The fight continued and I did nothing to stop it, simply watching as my two friends fought and began to exhaust themselves.

The two green forms, Took’s slightly more vivid to Rulac’s mossy green, tussled back and forth and began to grunt in pain and effort. Took’s tail lashed out and the sound of a whip rang out as her tail made contact with Rulac’s thigh. He grunted before wheeling and lashing out with a foot in a blistering kick. Took took the blow glancingly, forced to take a step back and gave Rulac time to gather himself. She didn’t care and with an enraged screech leapt back into the fray. It devolved even further, with punches and kicks making heavy, thudding contact on each body. Still, I didn’t step in, getting the feeling that it would dishonor the fight if I were to.

It was somewhat of an anticlimactic finish, where Took, exhausted, was able to land a solid blow with her head, smashing Rulac’s to the ground before retreating and nearly collapsing into a heap. “Leave me alone you honorless, Dulvroc-begotten scum. You disgust me.” Took stumbled to her feet and looked down her snout at Rulac before finishing, “Give me a week and I’ll be First.”

“That… was impressive. I’m not sure why though.”

Took simply nodded in response.

“You know where Vefir is right now?”

A shake of her head.

“I saw him come over for the fight. Just over there.”

Another nod.

“Anything I need to know about what’s happened between you?”

A final shake of the head as she walked as steadily as she could towards Vefir.

I walked over and squatted next to the hunched form of Rulac. “What did you do?”

He looked almost petulant. “Just told her that she should bear a clutch by me soon.”

“... That won’t work on her. Just served to piss her off even more.”

“Guess you’re right.”

“I’d take her threat seriously too. She’s pissed and wants to take you down as far as possible.”

“She doesn’t understand how much that makes me want to–”

“Just shut up and find Alaster to heal you up. I have half a mind to finish the job.”

A tired salute as Rulac slowly trotted off towards Second.

These two… What was I going to do with them?

“Father, why does Huntmaster Took not want to copulate with Rulac? Their spawnlings would be formidable.”

Isnanna’s words finally registered in my mind. I was going to smash Rulac’s head in before this journey was done, I was sure.