“The bogeymen of many stories often considered fairy tale and dark rumors, the hidden tribes were supposed to be descendants of the antagonists of an old tale amongst the therians, of a tribe that had been so engrossed in murder they wiped out several others just for the *fun* of it.

Most of the tale resembled classical heroic tales of yore, with how the other tribes united and in turn almost exterminated the offending, murderous tribe, with only a few scattered survivors escaping. Even so, their infamy never truly died in the Western Isles, where supposedly some of their descendents could be seen from time to time.” - Alina Knizhnyycherv, Researcher of Therian Cultures at the Verozgrad University, circa 672 FP.

Cal and her party indulged in the old druid couple’s hospitality for another two days before they finally departed on the third morning after their arrival. Ilena was somewhat unwilling to part from the many small animals that had befriended her during the time, but finally joined her parents after a while.

The party headed further westwards from where the druid couple lived. They had saved days of time with the airlift they got anyway, so the time spent in the druids’ abode was not something that messed up their schedule. Further to the west, the forest became denser, as the wildlife also turned noticeably larger and nastier.

A day after their departure, they saw a sleuth of Grizowls from afar, the large, but mostly docile beasts feasting on the ripe fruits from a tree. Three of the fluffy beasts tore a beehive apart for the golden honey within, as their constitution rendered them nearly impervious from the stings of the bees within.

Other such sights of wildlife became more and more common as they walked further west, though after four more days of travel, as the forest started to lighten up, Kyara warned the group that they were approaching the territory of the hidden tribes.

The tribes that now comprised the hidden tribes were all technically offshoots from the same tribe, all of whom inherited the instinct to toy with and kill. Due to their low numbers back when they escaped the massacre that ended most of their fellow tribesmen, the survivors had mingled and intermarried with one another.

It was to the point that by now the hidden tribes were pretty much the same tribe, their bloodlines so intermixed it was impossible to separate them anymore. Kyara’s mostly jet-black fur indicated that she had inherited a nearly pure bloodline from her ancestors, while those with patchwork fur like Ashani were of more mixed bloodlines, and were far more common in the tribe.

Kyara had warned the rest about her tribe’s vagaries, and as such, they kept the less combative members of the group, Krystal, Dan, and Ilena, in their midst. Sure enough, before long, Cal noticed the rustling of leaves in their vicinity, and her sharp eyes caught glimpses of shadows that flitted between the branches of the trees.

Cal called for a halt as she noticed the shadowy figures converging upon their group, and sure enough, the shadowy figures descended from the trees all around them the next moment. Most of them were very much like Ashani in appearance, just with simpler clothes, their fur a patchwork of white, brown, and black. A few were more pure in color, but none to Kyara’s level.

One of them, a large male - or at least Cal assumed him to be a male from his lower voice - with mostly brown fur that had a few splotches of white said something she didn’t understand, his clawed hand pointed at the group. Cal looked at Kyara, who kept her head down and hooded in the back with a questioning eye.

“He said we’re all trespassers that ought to be sacrificed to the gods of the hunt,” said Kyara while she kept her voice down. Even so, Cal noticed one of the therians, a sleek one with white and black fur, seemed to notice and perked up their ears, though they said nothing. “But said that he’d give us all a chance. One of us is to duel him, and if they win we may leave unharmed. I recommend sending someone who looks weaker just to make a point.”

Cal nodded to Kyara’s explanation, and glanced meaningfully at Giselle. Most races tend to consider humans as physically weaker than themselves, which for the most part was a correct impression. Giselle nodded as she got Cal’s meaning and stepped forward as she rolled up the sleeves of the shirt she wore and beckoned invitingly at the burly therian man.

The therian man looked askance at them, as if he was asking if they were serious, but when he noticed the rest of the group just standing by leisurely, he pounced on Giselle with his claws bared. His swipe struck nothing but air as Giselle grabbed his arm mid-swing and used it as a pivot to throw him hard against the ground.

Dazed, the therian man raised himself from the ground and looked at Giselle, this time with a bit more caution. That caution was not shared by his comrades however, as they laughed when they saw him get thrown. Cal did not fail to notice that the first one to laugh was the same therian that had perked their ears up when Kyara talked earlier.

What followed for the next few minutes was one-sided bullying, as the increasingly frustrated therian man tried to strike or grab at Giselle, only for the slight girl to toss him around with a smirk on her face. The ever-increasing mocking laughter of his own compatriots probably drove the therian man to even greater shame and desperation, but he never even laid a finger on Giselle.

Finally, when he laid down on the ground, bruised all over and too tired to make another attempt, Kyara walked out from the group, and removed her hood, Ashani behind her. The group of therians all took one look at her and went down on one knee without a hitch.

The one Therian Cal kept an eye on was the one who spoke, in somewhat accented but understandable common, and Cal realized immediately why he had perked up when Kyara spoke earlier.

“Welcome back, Chieftess,” said the therian man as he knelt respectfully on one knee. “And welcome home, mother.”