“I…mmmf…wha…Russell…please don’t. Russell…no…NOOO!” Veera jolted awake with a scream, the specter of eyes in the dark leaving her panting heavily, feathers thrumming with fear and danger sense. It took her a moment to remember where she was, clutching their chesko blanket tightly to her front. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the pre-dawn darkness, the faint light of the star not yet reaching her home. She felt the oppressive absence of her mate and growled deep in her chest, tossing the blanket aside and getting out of bed. Figuring any further sleep was a fool’s errand thanks to her nightmare; she began a small fire and dressed herself. When her brief meal ended she grabbed her toothbrush and began to clean her fangs and teeth, the familiarity of the human morning routine allowing her some small comfort as she rested in the doorway of her home, peering into the still, silent streets as the chill of mint grew in her mouth. At least the shen are still lively, she thought, spitting into the snow before turning back to fully clothe herself for another day out and about in the elements. With her spear in hand and hood up, she wandered out into the village.

For a while Veera wandered aimlessly, eventually finding herself in the middle of the square as the first rays of sunlight crested the tree line and illuminated the top of the eastern palisade. The cold, ashen ruins of the sun temple still dominated the plaza. With no new leader officially elected and most of the village laborers engaged in dealing with the rest of the fire damage or other necessary daily tasks, there had been no effort or manpower available to tend to what was an important, but purely religious building. As Veera pondered the indifference of the colossal sky furnace to its meager temple, a small cry reached her ears on the wind, followed by the coo and shushing voice of a female Cauthan. Turning back to the west Veera eventually recognized the profile, initially overwhelmed by the dawning light.

“There there now little one, it’s only for a bit,” Merat assured her newborn as she walked through the snows, a small basket hanging from the crook of her elbow. “We’re just going to go get some bread and then we’ll go back home to the fire where it’s warm, alright? If daddy is going to be working all day he deserves a little something when he comes home, don’t you think?” She reached a finger into the bundle she cradled against her chest and tickled the cub’s chest fur. As Veera smiled to herself, heart growing warm at the sight of young innocence, Merat looked up and met her eyes. “Oh, Veera. I didn’t see you there, my apologies.” The taller Cauthan waved it off.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she insisted as she took a step closer. “How’s the little one doing?” She asked tenderly, looking down and seeing a bit of Laran’s fluffy coat peeking out of the cloth and leather sling he was resting in.

“I did my best to keep him calm and quiet during the raid. I think he slept through the most of it, which is probably for the best. But he’s like this all the time now, up at the crack of dawn,” Merat sighed heavily as Laran began to protest the lack of movement, quieting again when his mother’s rocking continued, her torso turning back and forth at the hips. She looked back to Veera when she was sure the young one was satisfied for the moment. “Could I ask you a favor Veera? I’m headed to the bakery and the basket makes it a bit difficult to…oh, I’m sorry!” Merat paused as a confused look developed on Veera’s face. “I’d just assumed from the spear and the cloak and all of those stories that you were in the guard force now. Please forgive me.” The look of surprise only grew.

“I uh…no, I’m not. I just fought during the raid is all,” Veera tried to explain, extending her hand to Merat. “But I’d be happy to help. I find myself…with little to do right now. I guess that’s easy enough to figure out given how early it is.” Merat gave her a most sympathetic look.

“You need not say more Veera; I’ve heard the rumors just like everyone else by now. I am sorry. This whole situation must be trying for you. Oh, thank you very much!” Veera slipped her hand under the basket’s handle and tugged it gently away from Merat, freeing the woman’s second hand to hold and comfort her cub. With a nod Veera turned and began walking towards the bakery, happy to have some direction. After a few moments in silence Merat spoke up again. “You know Veera, I’m sure that Antoth and his men are very busy of late. If you’re finding yourself without direction perhaps you could spend time aiding them? I don’t think he’d turn you down, not to mention you already look quite imposing!” She added, giving Veera a small smile before turning back to her cub, leaning down to nuzzle him briefly. A tiny paw reached for its mother’s nose and she allowed him to bat at her for a moment. Veera couldn’t help but feel a bit of the joy evident on Merat’s face. If protecting the village meant protecting things like Laran and his mother, perhaps the past didn’t matter as much. Laran wouldn’t grow up being taught she was an outsider, not anymore she hoped.

“You’re rather wise Merat, thank you,” Veera said when they eventually arrived at the bakery. Its exterior was singed from a fire that had consumed the neighboring house but the building still stood, its clay chimney already emitting pleasant smelling smoke. With a bow, Merat took her basket back from Veera and headed inside. Veera allowed her to go alone, instead turning around and leaning against the side of the building with a long breath that she watched turn to vapor. She indulged herself for a moment, imagining herself as one of the servants of Uthos surveying the town around her, alert for disturbances or distress. For most of her life she’d wanted to be like her father, a hunter, but at the moment she didn’t quite fancy serving under Ratha. Besides, another male had been influencing her life recently, one who very much embodied the spirit of the God of Protection. Standing in the early light Veera found that she didn’t dislike the feeling at all. “There have certainly been worse ideas,” she reasoned, making up her mind and awaiting the conclusion of Merat’s business. A short time later the soft cries and coos of Laran met her ears again, presently followed by his mother exiting the bakery. “Do you need any more help Merat?” Veera asked.

“That’s very kind of you, but I’ll be alright I think. He seems rather happy and settled now. I’m headed straight home anyway. Be well Veera, I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Selah to your mate as well.”

“And to you Merat. Bye Laran!” Veera waved at the tiny cub, smiling as Merat walked off along the narrower streets of the southern village before turning the corner to the best route back to the main roads. With her belly still full from breakfast and minimal activity evident around her, Veera shrugged herself off the wall and headed for the barracks.

-----

“Believe me when I say that no one wants an election of a new sun priest more than I do,” Antoth insisted, trying mightily to keep his voice level. The wealthy Cauthan in front of him, the owner of one of the largest tracts of farmland in the village, seemed not to hear him or care for his words, continuing with his religious diatribe.

“It’s an absolute disaster, Guardian. There is no one to lead the village in this trying time, no one for the people to look to in our time of need! The temple is in ruins, Vash is dead, and yet the other priests gallivant about on other missions of lesser importance. I demand you call an election now!” He declared, stamping his foot impatiently and staring at Antoth. The Guardian felt rage build within him, incapable of understanding how someone could be so narrow minded in such a moment. He’d opened his mouth to reply when another voice made itself known, sparing him the need to chastise his visitor personally.

“Missions of lesser importance? Did you inhale too much smoke during the raid or something? ” Veera found herself laughing in disbelief as she pushed aside the door flap fully and entered the room, pleased to find that both she and Antoth were a good couple inches taller than the irate Cauthan who’d gotten up very early in the morning to vent his frustrations. “Surely you can’t mean that?”

“I mean precisely what I said mutt!” The offended party replied. “You may have escaped justice at Vash’s hand but mark my words your luck will run out.”

“You’re out of line-” Antoth began, but Veera held a hand up to forestall him. If she couldn’t handle one upset farmer she’d never amount to anything as a guard.

“It’s not worth your time Antoth, I know you’re very busy.” Veera rapped her spear butt against the wooden floor and glared at her accuser. “I don’t need luck, not anymore. Luck didn’t save you, nor did Seil. Antoth and his men did…which is why I find myself here actually,” she added jovially, not giving the landowner the luxury of seeing her angry or offended. “Need any help Antoth?”

“Would you like to be the next sun priest?” He asked with a feral grin, taking guilty and silent pleasure as their guest looked ready to have a cub right there in the barracks.

“Wha- but that’s not! Surely you can’t be serious?!” He spluttered.

“Oh calm yourself! You sound like a frightened shen. I’d rather be fed to a pack of hyrven than be sun priest!” Veera insisted hotly before turning back to Antoth with an apologetic look. “Sorry Antoth. No way, no how.”

“Why you impudent little-” Antoth slammed his hands onto his desk as the farmer made to argue again.

“That’s enough! You really want to keep angering two Cauthan that are far more heavily armed than you? The village is in a state of immediate peril. As soon as that is not the case a new election will be held. Thantis still cares for the wounded. Gentia is responsible for the lives of those made homeless. Ratha is in the forest from dawn to dusk. The smiths are clearing rubble from the southwest quarter. My men barely have enough time to sleep given how thin patrols are stretched. Right now all of those problems take precedence over our immediate lack of spiritual leadership. Vash may be dead but the gods still watch and guide us. So long as that is true I will do what is best for the people I am sworn to protect. Now if you have nothing else to bring to my attention I suggest you clear out so I can talk with Veera.” Though venomous looks were exchanged, no further complaints were lodged and Veera was left alone with the captain, the offending party left to grumble in the streets.

“How bad is it really?” She asked, taking a few steps closer and allowing her tone of voice to shift to one of concern and empathy. Antoth waved a hand dismissively.

“You know how it is Veera; the angry minority always makes the most noise. As of now almost everyone in the village has other worries. I don’t think Seil would begrudge us our attempts to survive. But enough of that. You said you wished to speak to me?” Veera moved to stand directly before him and rendered a salute, bringing her spear upright and held tightly to her side, body straight and strong, feathers held high.

“I want to volunteer for the guard force,” she stated loudly and clearly. Antoth nodded.

“Done.”

“What?!” Veera and Ratha both shouted, the latter having just poked her head through the door flap. “You can’t be serious Antoth? You’re going to let the mu…I mean her, run around the village with weapons and a position of authority?” The Huntress demanded as if she were the only sane individual in the room.

“Aww Ratha, I didn’t know you cared,” Veera snarked, noticing how she’d not followed through with the word ‘mutt’. The Huntress shot her a look of ill-concealed loathing.

“Perish the thought. I just don’t want our village defended by weaklings who have to rely on aliens. Besides, do you even know how to use that thing?” Ratha taunted. Antoth gripped the hilt of his sword tightly but didn’t intervene, knowing that both of them would probably try to kill him if he did. About damn time these two had it out face to face. Might as well be here when I’m around. He considered that silver lining, remaining alert and ready as Veera stalked up to Ratha, using her height advantage of almost half a foot to cut an imposing image. Her well-conditioned body completed the look as she glared down at the Huntress, the auburn-furred female giving no quarter as she stood her own ground.

“Care to find out Ratha? I might surprise you,” Veera challenged, her cocksure voice getting Ratha’s feathers vibrating.

“I highly doubt that,” Ratha spat, initiating a sequence of events that took the space of less than five seconds. The Huntress reached for the dagger at her hip, drawing the blade from its sheath but only just clearing the leather case when Veera’s left hand gripped her wrist tightly. The striped Cauthan executed a maneuver her human had taught her recently, a straightforward disarming technique that she’d graduated to upon learning the basics of punches and kicks as well as some rudimentary grappling. She’d never been able to get Winters with it in a mock battle, but against Ratha she had height, strength, and surprise. The Huntress’ eyes went wide with shock as Veera allowed her spear to clatter to the ground, stepping forward and pivoting on her right foot to twist around Ratha’s back, taking the hand holding the bone knife with her. Another subtle and painful twist of the arm had Ratha yelping in discomfort and dropping the dagger into Veera’s waiting spear hand. Antoth had drawn his blade as well, the sound of metal sliding against leather filling the room for just a moment as the three of them fell silent. Ratha struggled mightily but in her position all it did was increase the pain in her shoulder and elbow joints. She was stilled by the tip of her own dagger pressing into her spine.

“I wouldn’t doubt me again, Huntress,” Veera whispered triumphantly, causing Ratha to glare at Antoth instead.

“Well, are you just going to let this happen?!” She yelled, tail whipping about in a rage.

“Of course I’m not,” Antoth replied levelly, sheathing his blade and walking around the desk to stand in front of them both. Unseen by Ratha, Veera gave him a triumphant smile as if she’d just passed some sort of initiation exam. He looked down at the two women he cared for, though in very different ways. “It would be wrong of me to allow you to walk out of here without apologizing to Veera.”

“WHAT?!” Ratha screamed. “She’s got a knife against my back you blind fool!” Antoth remained calm, the corners of his lips curling in a slightly sadistic grin. Ratha brought out the mischief in him.

“You’re right Ratha. You owe Veera two apologies actually. One for disparaging a fellow villager offering her services in a time of need and another for drawing a weapon on her.”

“Rrrrragh!” Ratha strained against Veera’s hold, prompting her to allow the Huntress to escape. She was more flexible than a human by far, but it would have still hurt and she had no intention of injuring a high priest. She did hold onto the knife though.

“It’s alright Antoth. I think two would cause her to keel over and die. I’ll accept the one,” Veera declared good-humoredly.

“You’ll get nothing,” Ratha insisted angrily, unsure of whether she wanted to glare at Antoth or Veera more, settling on whipping her head back and forth between them.

“Then I think I’ll just hang onto this then,” Veera said without concern, twirling the blade slowly between her fingers. She was getting better at that little trick. “It’s nowhere near as good as the knife I got from my darling, but it’ll make a fine trophy. What do you think Antoth?” The Guardian looked her over approvingly.

“Have you eaten breakfast?”

“Uh…yes?” Veera answered, legitimately taken off-guard.

“Good, then you’ll begin your rounds immediately. For now I’d like you to patrol your own neighborhood, the northwest quadrant. Feel free to grab lunch when you need it but do so quickly. Your shift ends at sundown. I’m sorry, there’s just not enough bodies left for three shifts a day.”

“I wha…what?!” Ratha fumed as Veera brought her legs together and saluted Antoth. Without her spear she decided on a human salute, something she’d seen both Io and Winters perform. The gesture earned her curious looks as she brought her hand to her temple, but Antoth understood quickly enough.

“Excellent. If anyone gives your trouble, let them know you’re operating on my behalf as high priest of Uthos. I’ll let the other men know as I see them that you’re one of us now, not that you haven’t been since that night. Thank you Veera.”

“No, thank you Antoth. I really need something to do and…” Veera trailed off, unwilling to say more in front of the Huntress.

“They’d be proud of you, I’m sure,” Antoth told her earnestly, referring to both Winters and her parents. Ratha made a gagging noise that interrupted the otherwise tender moment. Though Veera laughed it off, Antoth walked right up into her personal space. “Apologize and get your bloody knife back Ratha.”

“In your dreams Antoth. I-”

“That wasn’t a request,” he growled, placing a hand roughly on her shoulders. The force was strong enough that her knees almost buckled as he leaned down and met her eyes with a glare. He snapped his teeth at her. “That’s an order.” Veera didn’t dare breathe, watching Ratha’s eyes and body intently as the Huntress debated her next move. Eventually she closed her eyes and allowed her stiff shoulders to relax just a centimeter.

“You have my…apologies Veera,” she ground out. The young Cauthan’s feathers waved in confusion but she made no snide reply, instead holding out Ratha’s knife to her. The Huntress snatched it back and freed Veera to retrieve her spear from the ground.

“Captain!” She said in parting, turning and striding from the barracks before the awkward tension between the two…she supposed they were lovers…overwhelmed her. When she was gone Ratha snarled openly at her nighttime companion.

“You’ll pay for that,” she promised. Her brave words earned her his teeth clamping down on her lips, a forceful and eager kiss silencing her. He didn’t spare her the pain, making sure she knew he was angry with her. Before long she joined him, her hands behind his back, claws out and digging into his fur and hide. “Really…you’ll pay for that,” she huffed between nips and bites.

“Ratha…” Antoth began. She cut him off.

“You don’t need to tell me I got my tail handed to me Antoth. I know what just happened. Guess the little waif had to grow up at some point,” she remarked begrudgingly.

“I’m not asking you to like her, but I will ask you to stop antagonizing her,” he growled, not wanting two of the more competent individuals in the village at each other’s’ throats.

“I thought it wasn’t a request?” She asked slyly, her eyes narrowing deviously.

“That was mainly for effect, you know I-” Ratha nipped hard at his lower lip.

“Don’t go saying anything about Uthos, damnit. Just don’t ever talk to me like that around others again.” Her voice had turned serious, carrying a few emotions that Antoth knew she never showed to others. He nodded.

“And you won’t antagonize Veera like that again. Deal?” She crossed her arms and scoffed at him.

“Deal. I don’t know what you see in her.”

“Doesn’t matter. I need the help. Forget about her,” he advised, stepping close enough to press against her but relaxing his body language. She shook her head but leaned into him anyway. “How bad is it out there?” Antoth asked softly.

“The six of us together have only killed a single chesko. Everything in that damned forest is spooked,” she lamented.

Antoth growled into her crest feathers. “Gods protect us…and you.”

“Didn’t know you cared scarface,” she teased, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You know I do.”

“And I like that you don’t make a scene out of it. I don’t want a repeat of the pyres.”

“Will I see you tonight?” Antoth asked. She closed her eyes and breathed him in.

“If the forest doesn’t kill me.”

-----

Winters was thankful for the moons’ light as he and Io continued their journey through the northern forests of Mara. After waking and taking a small meal the two of them had continued on, walking many hours without incident. That didn’t mean, however, that the night had been carefree. With time and distance the trees had continued to change slightly, the forest developing a more scraggly and crowded appearance as more branches and rougher bark blocked the faint light from overhead. It gave the entire environment a deadlier and rougher feel. The two had been on edge the whole night as Io’s sensors detected the ursae’s presence faintly at times, the signal fading in and out. No matter what she did she was unable to resolve a clear pattern for detection. As a result Winters’ head had been on a swivel for most of the night, the dull, washed out gray-green of his helmet’s night vision not yielding any further hints as to their quarry’s location. He was checking his HUD’s clock, seeing it was only a couple of hours until dawn when Io bade him to halt, taking a knee and raising a fist into the air.

‘Sir, I’m detecting multiple abnormalities ahead.’

He mimicked her, kneeling in the snow. “What sorts of abnormalities Io?”

‘I believe we’re close to the camp sir,’ she advised in a whisper, as if the forest itself would hear her approaching. Winters nodded and reached behind him, drawing his rifle. With the barrel pointed forward, the two of them slowed pace and continued on, checking every angle for enemies, scouts, or blurs in the night.

“I don’t like this Io, I don’t like it one bit,” Winters spoke softly, nerves beginning to set themselves on edge. They’d gone more than four hundred meters without seeing any hint of life. “You’re sure?”

‘I am sir. We’re close but…I haven’t detected movement since we began our approach,’ Io informed him. Whatever subroutines of hers that governed her danger sense seemed to be active as well. Strain was evident in her voice. Winters could practically hear the sound of his grip tightening on his rifle, the synthetic material of the firearm and his armor creaking against one another ever so slightly. Io, naturally, saw it first.

‘Oh…oh no.’

“What is it Io?” Winters heard the stress in his voice as he spoke louder with each syllable. The night vision view of his HUD was suddenly replaced by standard visuals as Io activated the exterior helmet light. “Io, what the hell are you-”

‘We’re too late.’

“Jesus fuck…” Winters allowed the firearm to fall to his side as he swept the bright, artificial light through the clearing they’d come upon. Everywhere they looked were signs of chaos. Fire pits had been scattered and overturned, a few embers still glowing feebly in the cold and dark. Carts and sleds were broken or overturned, some of them smashed into piles of useless firewood. As they stepped slowly forward they saw more, scraps of clothing or leather torn from garments or bodies, some covered in bloodstains. Trees surrounding the area had been knocked over, the remaining stumps and trunks jutting into the air like jagged spears on a deserted battlefield. Everywhere they looked they could see evidence of the ursae. Great gouts of snow had been torn from the ground and scattered about, tents were shredded or missing, massive claw marks, some tinged crimson, were everywhere. “Something is very wrong here Io,” Winters said, hearing the tightness in his voice.

‘I assume you mean beyond the obvious?’ She asked, though any sarcasm was overruled by her awe and shock at the destruction laid out before them.

“Where are the bodies? Where’s the blood? Where are all the goddamn supplies they stole?!” Winters yelled, feeling ever increasingly like he’d just stumbled into a macabre horror house.

‘Well, we could try following the footprints?’ Io advised meekly, her sensors more than capable of telling her that very little was left. As Winters took a moment to examine a few bundles of leather that had likely come from Ratha’s temple, she found a very odd feeling welling up inside of her. ‘Sir?’

“What is it Io?” He asked coldly, hands running over the rough surface before standing and walking along a path of fleeing prints that led from a ruined, rough fur tent. Two sets of paw prints were clearly those of adult Cauthan, but there was one between them that was much smaller. The VI didn’t finish her question, eyes growing wide and wet with tears as Winters kept moving, finally arriving at the point where a truly massive set of paw prints intersected the lines of frantic, smaller ones. Those prints simply ceased to exist.

‘Is this…pity?’ She asked tearfully, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Winters breathed in heavily as he hung his head.

“Yes Io…pity and sorrow.”

‘There’s barely anything left.’

“I know. The food is gone. So is the leather for the most part. What’s left is scattered and probably not worth our time, nor the hunters’.” He declared, turning his body away from the place where a family had been snuffed out of existence. As he headed back and surveyed the site more thoroughly they saw the same pattern repeated everywhere. The attack had come early in the night, after many had likely just dozed off to sleep. In the resulting panic many had died, likely eaten whole while the rest scattered to the forest with few possessions and even less hope of surviving until the dawn. Once or twice they spotted Cauthan prints leading back to the camp, but their owners were long gone. Many more trails just vanished, often near downed trees or heavy prints.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Winters declared abruptly. “This is just too fucked up Io.” He sat down in the snows a short way from the camp, making sure he didn’t face yet another trail gone cold, evidence of a life ended. As the one responsible for the destruction of their warriors, Winters had very little, if any, enmity left for the raiders. Io had hit the nail on the head. He pitied them and their fate. That the alternative was the death of his village didn’t matter that much as the snows started to fall softly around him. He thought of Zolta and Asha, thought of Xan, Thantis, and Gentia. He remembered Merat and her young one. It was all too easy to imagine them in the place of the raiders, imagine them snatched by death in the night. “Fuck this Io. Fuck this,” he cursed, remembering the first time he’d visited Veera’s shrine to her father. Was this how he’d died? Had he been wiped from existence too, with nary a drop of blood in the snow to mark his passing?

‘I suppose the initial plan is out of the question then, sir?’ Io offered, sitting cross legged in his HUD and joining him in a momentary lamentation. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they were both in awe of the tremendous amount of destruction and death the ursae had wrought.

“Yeah…yeah it is Io. There’s no one left to intimidate into returning what they stole, not that any of that is left either.”

‘I…do see a couple bundles of chesko leather over there?’ Io pointed, not even capable of extending her arm all the way.

“Yeah, there is,” Winters replied blankly, effectively ending all conversation. For a while the two of them just sat there, snow slowly building up on his cloak and helmet. The gruesome scene was gradually being wiped away. By the new season none would know of what had happened and none would remember, save the two of them. Winters didn’t know how long he remained still, but when he finally shook the snow from his helm and stood up the pale indigo light of dawn was breaking in the west, just barely lightening the snow clouds above. “C’mon Io, I think it’s time we left this place,” he proposed, his nerves and shock now replaced by deadened emotions and a heavy heart. Io stood and paused for a moment, a sad but contemplative look on her face. When she gazed back up at him an arrow on his HUD indicated the most likely direction of the ursae based on her estimates. It led them back through the camp one last time. As they passed through something caught Winters’ eye and he knelt at the scene of one of many broken tents, dusting aside fresh snow on a carved piece of wood. The thing was tiny and easily fit into his hand. It didn’t resemble any of the idols on Veera’s shrine, nor did it resemble anything like a god at all. It looked like a Cauthan, complete with ears and a crudely carved tail.

“How old?” He whispered.

‘Sir I would need a sample of the wood to determine the approximate age of the tree that-’

“No,” he interrupted her softly, closing his eyes. “How old do you think the cub was that this belonged to?” Io’s shoulders dropped as she shook her head. She’d long ago changed out of her barbarian armor and back to her default HEL officer’s uniform.

‘I can only guess sir, and frankly I don’t want to.’

Winters became aware of a faint, salty sting in his eyes as he looked down at the doll. The lead inside of him was melting, becoming hot and angry. He clutched at the wooden toy tightly, as though if he squeezed hard enough it would lead him to wherever that young cub was. “I’m going to kill this thing Io. I’m going to fucking kill it!” He promised as he choked back his tears. “It’s going to die and I’m going to laugh as it bleeds out!” Io could feel his blood pumping and his chest heaving as he tried to steady his emotions, to find a medium between blind rage and being dead to the world. She took up her axe and donned her armor anew, her own passions stoked by his words.

‘And I’ll be at your side when you do, laughing as this monster takes its last breath on this planet.’ Winters’ eyes rose from where they rested on the doll to look at his partner, the fire inside of him more than clear to her. He saw it reflected back at him as he looked at her.

“I have a couple more hours in me I think. Do you?”

‘Always.’