08 Trek

Enkyall had changed, it was becoming more interesting. Early in its creation, life had instinctively changed their patterns by eliminating the patterns that did not extend far enough. Now the Dauver and the Kesit acted in their own interest; they planned, they adapted, they even killed off their own to preserve their lineage.

Kesit were delightful things to behold. Such cheery little creatures. Even now they sent one to go off with several others. The healthy strong ones even followed a short twisted fat one. He was clumsy and provided something akin to joy to watch. The look on his face when the bugs ate his friend, and how he tripped into the little trickle of water and flailed around. Normal beasts would have just killed him off, but this was civilization where the weak could live. This is exactly what he wanted to see entities and creatures who had no business existing thriving and loving life.

See how the strongest of them stays up late. That one looks brooding and even his thoughts want the blood to leak out and the vitals of the clumsy one to drop. That one must barely be sentient, but still look at all the bitter emotions and hate. The fang that had been in his belt was gone. Memory of it remained, and the being even made sure to hold onto it for a while so he could return it.

Ah, that’s a nice look of surprise. That confusion. That rage.

* * *

Murkie stood over the runt. Even his breathing was wrong, short loud breaths. Why should one such as this be allowed to live. It was that pompous blind, soft toothed kesit. The Dreamer was too deep into the herbs.

The Kin would be made strong this turn. A simple twist and he would drag the body into a creak. The others would neither know or care; All had given guidance for this journey.

Murkie reached for his fang, a long slender thing. A twin to Havlek's. This soft had lost the other, but at least this much remained. His hand reached, but it was not there. He checked the other side of the corded leather. Still nothing. He had fastened it properly. Where had it gone?

He looked behind him. No one. All the others were asleep as he was on watch. Further proof that Yagbur was a blight on the people. Regardless, Murkie would put an end to Yagbur. He knelt, hand prone to grip the runt's neck and head. Not a noise would be heard tonight.

Murkie turned again. There was no noise, but something was there. Still, this needed to be done for the Kin. He knelt. It was a sharp cutting pain.

"Aargh!!" He screamed as he found the lost fang under the skin of his knee. Murkie fell back and clutched his leg.

* * *

Ilsebek held pressure on Murkie's leg while Sanshal got the powered Oyuyu fruit out to help staunch the flow. The big man whimpered. All this was happening as Yagbur awoke earlier that morning.

"What's going on?” the singer asked.

"This clumsy fool nearly brought the Blue Beaks on us by screaming as loud as he was." Ilsebek chided while his hands got further and further drenched in blood.

"What happened?" Yagbur said in his still easing oblivion.

Sanshal answered behind him. "Move yourself out of my way, I have your stinking powder Taster. This alpha somehow stabbed himself in the leg. Should just leave him, blood will call attention on us."

Ilsebek shook his hands at Sanshal laughing. "There, now let us three do this task alone."

"We can’t, Dreamer made it known, we are all to return with the poison. That way we can keep back the dauver."

Sanshal tossed a small pouch to Ilsebek who promptly poured the caustic blue powder into the wound. It fizzled and steamed and Murkie screamed louder. Ilsebek tried to cover Murkie's mouth, but the man writhed and bit. Yagbur acted fast, poured a small drizzle of the oil from his pack into Murkie's mouth. He stilled as the oil sedated him. The flesh cauterized and powder congealed till it hardened sealing the wound.

* * *

Eyes watched as they journeyed further north. It was entertaining how the skinny one made a show of using his hands to look at the sky and led the rest. The other had treated the large one, but still just a speck of the fang remained. Despite the mistake he helped the large one limp on.

They were his creations, these small little things who both helped and hated. Still they are heading there to that place. This was not enough though. There would be no progress if there is no conflict. His kesit would be strengthened before his purpose for them came to an end.

He laughed as he watched black wings spread. He listened to the blue beak as it opened up its three sharp bills to let out a hungry caw.