Howling Thunder 13: Ruffled Feathers

--------------------------------------

Morning comes with a sharp pain in my ribs. I lift my head from my soft, perky pillows to find Mother standing over me.

I poke Patra on one of the bite marks I left on her chest.

“Ow! What gives Fuzzy...oh, Good morning Madam Inari.”

She quickly sits up right on her knees, realizing she’s stark naked she pulls the blanket over her front, leaving me bare to all.

A red faced Akane gasps from the tent flap and disappears.

With a yawn and a stretch I ask, “I’m sorry we might have been a bit loud.”

Mother puts her hand to her temple and looks at Patra, “Idiot girl, you’re aware of the troubles he’ll face once we arrive in Yoden correct?”

“Yes Madam Inari.”

“And yet you intentionally create a situation to sprout gossip about my little fuzz ball before we even arrive!”

I have to cut in, “I’m not so little any more.”

Patra adjusts her legs under the blanket, “You can say that again.”

Mother looks at the tent ceiling and exhales, “Exactly what kind of impression do you think these sorts of rumors will create?”

“Impressed?” She says with a serious face.

Small flames light up on mother’s tail, “Honestly, if you knew you were nearing your heat you should have stayed in Yoden. I went over 300 years before knowing a man.”

Patra interrupts while faking tears, “I’m so sorry, that’s the saddest thing I've ever heard.”

Mother stomps her foot, the flames flare up, “Do either of you take anything seriously!”

With a raised tone I answer, “Absolutely! In fact, I swear to the gods, if Ptah burns dinner again I’m going to toss ox dung in his tent tonight!”

With that, the great, living goddess Inari, storms out of the tent.

Patra is looking for her clothes while trying not to laugh.

Thinking out loud, “Was that really anythin for her to be upset over?”

“She probably was frustrated missing my mother, I imagine your sister invading her private tent didn't help either.”

Fair enough…

I can’t help but flick her butt while she's crawling around, “Hey, what was the score?”

She looks back and raises a brow, “Score?”

“Ya, how many times last night did you… you know?”

“Really, you're asking that!?... four, and you?” This girl clearly accepts a challenge.

I stand with a triumphant pose… still naked, “Twice, I win.”

Patra gives a single laugh and throws my pants, “Get dressed, before your sister peaks in again.”

From outside I hear Ptah, “Yes, do hurry up, you’re riding with me this morning.”

How menacing.

I give the most unenthusiastic, “Woohoo…,” back to Patra, “so your tribe has served the Inari ever since the great war right?”

She adjusts her top, “Yup, your mother seems to have a soft spot for us. She takes her pick of our females as handmaidens and the most gorgeous she takes has consorts.”

“Good thing you're reserved as mine then.”

Patra smiles before exiting the tent, “Don't get too used to this Fuzzy, I admit I'm usually obsessed with my work, I am a genius after all.”

Glancing at the trident leaning in the corner, I can't say she's not.

----

As we clear up camp Ptah seems keen on throwing everything in reach at me.

Once the wagons are all packed and we start moving Maug hops up and warns me, “Keep a sharp eye out today pup, once we’re clear of the dark wood there has been word of highway bandits.”

Leaning out the front of the wagon to look around, all I see are regular pine trees.

“Isn’t that the sort of thing the local patrols are supposed to keep in check, especially when we are only a few days from the den?”

Ptah answers, “The Yoden army have all been relocated south for the war, I’m sure it will be explained by your Father once we reach the capitol. The only remaining forces are the local militias which stay in their towns.”

The war talk again, sounds like a pain.

Thinking to my earlier conversation with Patra, “Hey Ptah, why does your tribe serve my mother exactly?”

He scratches his beard, “When the Jackals escaped the demon army, our numbers were less than twenty, half starved, and sickly. Only the Inari took us in, shared their limited food, healed us. The Kitsune were even fewer in number, but very powerful in magic. They are wise and arcane, we are strong and good with our hands. Together our tribes survived the dark era, combined we are far more well off than otherwise. Politics doesn't suit us Jackals, we leave that annoying stuff to the foxes.”

“And you don't mind sharing your wife with Mother?”

He scowls at my grin, “It's considered an honor…Try talking like that once you meet my wife.”

The way Patra acts is plenty of a hint.

And the wagon rolls on.

---------------------------------

On our way, the trees change again, Ptah calls these oak trees. Instead of needles they have these things called leaves.

“Best, day, ever.”

Maug looks at me before going back to sleep.

We are following a shallow, rocky stream, the stone looks like black steps jutting at angles.

After a few hours, the forewarned of trouble makes itself known.

A man walks out of the forest and takes a stance in the middle of the road. He has only pants and a leather harness across his chest with several knives holstered in it. His arms look like brown wings, they match his short feathery hair. A wooden club is attached to his belt.

With crossed arms he announces, “Halt, and pay contribution for the restoration of the Turul glory!”

Ptah says nothing, only giving him a hard stare.

A wisp of red smoke floats near my ear, I can hear mother’s voice, “Turn the feather brain to ash, I will not tolerate threats so close to the den.”

Some one’s still ornery.

“Alright, but you’re totally teaching me how to do this smoke whisper thing.”

Hopping out the back I walk around the wagon, grabbing my trident along the way I can’t help but mutter, “Yay, time to test my new toy!”

I step up to the man, he takes up his club and whistles. Seven other men step out from the woods behind him. All carrying a random weapon.

Ah, um, so I’m doing this by myself is it? Probably for running my mouth this morning, I hope she stops being moody once we reach,

The bird fellow, “Boy, you got something to say or are you just getting first in line to have your ass kicked?”

Facing the man, “I care not for your glory, and I will give you nothing but death.”

Before I lose my straight face I start with a cloud burst of crackling black fog. I need to work on my lines, I bet my father being a king and all has some intimidating lines.

Fog billows towards them, dull flashes of energy flit within the darkness.

The men quickly form a line and flap their wings. I can’t advance! The wind pressure is holding back the clouds.

I reform, this will be annoying, the man speaks with a grin, “you sure you won’t just pay?”

They start to approach me.

Smirking, “You guys just hold that line.”

Red energy pulses out from my tail to my arm, spiraling up the shaft of the trident, it coalesces in the prongs in an almost blinding, violent red light.

The beam bursts forth, the recoil of the force making me firm up my stance as I sweep across the men.

The first birdman from the start of the line is blown back, smoke rising from his body. The remaining men stagger, cringing in pain.

I sprint in with the head of the trident still sparking and pierce the chest of one of the men.

Another takes a swing at me with a chipped sword but it harmlessly passes like cutting a wisp of black cloud. His burnt feathers fall from his arms as he stumbles forward. Using the haft of my trident I catch his feet to send him flat on his face.

A quick rotation of my weapon and I stab down at his defenseless back to penetrate his heart.

One of the men tries to run away but I chuck the trident through his neck, pinning him to a nearby tree.

Two of the remaining men try to jump me but I discharge a stunning wave of energy sending more cindered feathers flying.

I try to retrieve my trident but a dagger pierces my lower back causing me to stumble.

Before he can pull his dagger out I grab him by the neck, my hand now covered in hardened black fur with claws.

Another one takes flight with a hop then falls from the air, dropping his heel towards my head.

Dodging with a side step I move the man gripped in my claws to block the swing of another birdman's hatchet. I fling the dead weight aside as his eyes lose focus.

The one I side stepped lunges at me from behind, as if I was simply an illusion he passes through the black fog. I give his back a strong kick towards the one who threw the hatchet and fire another red beam of lightning, it bores through his chest and stuns the other man.

I run past them, slashing the living man's neck as he’s about to shake off his comrade’s smoldering corpse.

With burst of black fog and red light I shift into the form of a massive black wolf and tackle the last man, before he even hits the ground my jaws clamp down on his throat.

His voice, hoarsely comes out, he manages to laugh despite my hold, “you damn dogs have outstayed your welcome, the Turul will rise to independence once again.”

Like I care, with but a little force my teeth shred his neck.

Eight dead birdmen scatter the road creating pools with their blood.

----------------