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Totally not a loss
Response to: Jumping at Shadows and I want your Cow
243 words

Zami wanted to kick the traveller-idiot-man's a**. She was pretty sure he'd called her short but, as he slowly meandered away into the distance, she found that she had trouble standing up to follow him: Every time she did, it hurt, and every time it hurt, it made her feel like throwing up.

Soon, he was a ways away and she knew she had to do the thing she'd said she was going to do and get home by nightfall otherwise she'd get a lecture.

Zami hated lectures.

So, when she could finally stagger to her feet, she limped back over the rocks to the Selala column, now mostly dispersed for the day, and picked up a few of the creatures that had fallen that day.

Hopefully, she thought, That'll be what the alchemist person wants. and if not... tough. She felt oddly done for the day, and her steps were weary as she traced her way through the natural maze that led to the main village and home.

Red was not usually exhausted, and for a moment she was concerned.

She quickly, in typical Zami/Red fashion, dismissed it: was probably just hunger. All that thought about tender Sheron meat had gotten her too hungry. Sure enough, a heaping portion of food – and meat, of course – seemed to do the trick and she was back to her old self in no time, her defeat at the hooves of a sheron forgotten...

The Crashing of the Storm
1298 words

They were in a cove, on the cliffs surrounding Ayr's turbulent coast. Red watched her sister as she set up the campsite in the shelter of the cliffs, unwilling to take her eyes off of her as she worked. Harashathi was a decent enough Ayrala and her sister besides and Red had always thought that she was badass, even if she had decided to be something as weak as a healer. Red was, however, wary – her sister rarely paid attention to her other than to scold her or glower, and yet today she had been taken on a trip. What was Hara doing? What did Hara want?

“You see that, Zami?” Hara pointed into the distance, where a streak of lightning split the sky over the vast, inky ocean. Red looked out, watching as the wind whipped the water into a foaming fury. A storm was coming; she could see the huge wall of clouds marching forth inexorably. “That's going to hit the coast here in maybe an hour, and it's going to be a sight to behold.” Red glowered at her suspiciously. “You know, Zami, our brother brought me here when I was your age, just after he chose his clan.”

“Vetta?!” asked Red, surprised out of her wary musings, “Vetta took you here?!”

“What, you think Raeshir would look away from his critters to bother with the rest of us?” Hara rolled her angry silver eyes, “Yes of course Vetta.” she snapped, “Anyway, Vetta took me out here and he said, 'Hara, you watch that storm. Just watch it, 'cause it's got every element in it, and you gotta pick one so you might as well see a demonstration.' Or something like that. Anyway.” She gave Red an awkward pat between the horns, a touch that was more dutiful than affectionate, “It's about time you picked a clan, so I'm going to give you the same advice: Watch the storm, and see what part of it you feel the most connected to or whatever. It sounds stupid when I say it, I know...” Hara grimaced, “But it honestly works.” She backed into the sheltered cliff cove as the storm rumbled closer, “I'll leave you to it. Don't fall in, or I'll never hear the end of it.”

Red scoffed. She wouldn't fall in. She never fell, save for those times she did. She didn't count those times. She sat on the edge of the cliff and watched the storm roll in, it's thunder an ominous snarl, the water parting before it as it crept forward like the padding paws of a great beast. Red actually didn't care for being outside in a storm – it was too wet and cold for her liking – but Vetta – Vetertov – was her awesome older brother. If Hara said he had shown her this place to help her pick her clan, then Red believed her, and she would give it a try. Even if it sounded silly.

She sat on the stone edge, feeling the roiling sky come upon her, lashing her with sudden and furious wind and rain. She gasped, holding onto the rocks and squinting defiantly into the storm as the cove was whipped into a roaring frenzy. It was an overwhelming show of force, and Red had to grip a thin, flexible tree next to her to hold herself still so she could see it all.

The storm was glorious and powerful, dancing in the inky, dark grey-blue blackness with the promise of power. Wind whipped at her hair, it's slicing fingers finding its way under her notbjaovin pelt, lifting it higher on her horns until it's empty eye sockets and snout looked up into the storm, as if to howl along with it. Red grabbed the snout with her free hand to hold it down as the winds intensified, crashing into her skin and howling like a pack of wild beasts.

Water crashed into the stone cliff as if it was alive, clawing and roaring like a dragon as it tore at the insolently solid stone. She watched, fascinated: she had never seen water act like this before. Briny droplets splashed her face from below as rain, like a swarm of small insects, stung her as they fell, wet and cold, from the clouds to strike her. The stone around her became slickened into something less solid and real than it should have been, rippling like the surface of an illusion. It soaked through her clothes as the wind beat it like a blacksmith into a sideways flow. For a moment, Red could swear that the very air had become water.

Suddenly, her eyes, already narrowed against the driving water, were blinded by a flash of intense light. Shielding her eyes with her pelt, she stood, holding the tree tightly. Then the universe cracked and shattered, shaking her from head to toe in a display of thunderous, loud force. Red roared back at the storm, her voice lost in the wind and waves.

She was about to go inside when raindrop that was not a raindrop plinked against her arm. She flinched: It was cold, it stung, and it clattered to the ground with a sound like breaking glass. She backed away from the edge and looked down at where it had fallen.

Is that... ice?

Hard balls of ice began to pelt against her like a landslide from the sky, glittering in the lightning as they crashed into her body and then, finally the ground.

“Zami!” she heard her sister's shout over the shrieking howls of the weather, “Zami get your tail over here!”

Red didn't care. Backing away from the edge, she relinquished her grip on her pelt and the sapling, cupping her hands and holding them out.

“Zami!”

Her efforts were rewarded as something cold struck her fingers and rolled into her palms. She closed her hands around it as she felt her sister grab her and drag her back.

Her sister had made camp in a cavern sheltered by the cliffs. It was dry, warmed only by a fire. “Lets get you dry before you catch cold... though you know, theres always that rumor that idiots can't catch cold.” her sister snickered as magicked winds danced through her wet clothing, carrying the moisture – and warmth - away with it. “Well?”

Red looked at Harasathi, somewhat dazed, as the magical winds toyed with her pelt.

“Did you figure it out?”

Figure what out? Oh. Yes. Her clan. “Dunno.” said Red, looking back towards the entrance, where the storm still raged.

Thunder rumbled, echoing through the smoothed cavern. “Well, wasn't expecting a revelation out of you.” muttered her sister, “I had to think on it a bit too.”

Red remembered her chilled hands and she opened them. A single, perfectly round little marble made of ice gleamed in the firelight, slowly melting in the heat of her palm. She brought it to her face, observing it; she had never seen hail before, and she wondered how the heck it could exist.

Then she sneezed, and the little hailstone rolled away into the dark shadows.

“Well, there goes that theory.” snickered her sister, “Lets get those wet things off of you and warm you up.”

Red let herself be led to the fire, uncharacteristically docile as her sister helped her strip off her wet clothing and wrapped her in a dry blanket. She stared into the shadows where the hailstone had been lost, and felt deeply, deeply sad.

“Just get some rest and think on it.” said her sister, building the fire higher in preparation for sleep.

Red had a feeling, as she snuggled into the warm blanket, that she might already know.

Rescuing Cid
Hunt: Ysali Dragon x 4, win x 4
Zamanavyi and Naita
208 Words

Red was proud of herself – she had, after all, killed a dragon and despite it not being nearly as awesome as the time she'd actually ridden a dragon to death, it was still really neat, and she was feeling very good about it.

Watching Rangion fight had been refreshing too – she hadn't realized he could be that fierce and, now that she had seen it for herself, she felt justified in how she herself felt during a fight.

She hadn't been sure what to think about her attitude, if think she ever did: everybody in her family were calm under pressue, and even Vetertov, her beloved older brother, calmed down when it came time to fight.

She knew, though, that she became wild and fierce, and it had bothered her on some deep subconscious level – not a lot, but enough to make her especially grumpy around them at times.

Now, she knew she was not alone.

She was, also, relieved that there had been a fight to break the monotonous silence of the forest.

Though, apparently she had to deal with the khehora and its lost pet, a task that, she felt, would prove to be horribly boring. But Rangion was into it, so... Fine.

Can't Bear it
Hunt: Baowi Adolescent
93 Words

Red hunkered in to wait, but was soon bored. She searched the cave for claws, but to no avail: apparently the Baowi kept their claws for life. There were baby Baowi in the cave, and they were cute, but Red gave them a large berth. Their claws were too small, and she didn't want to have to hurt the fluffy things.

She did get claws from the adolescent Baowi, though, nearly the twenty asked for, but Red wanted to go above and beyond... she wanted one of the big ones.

So she waited... and waited... and waited...

Could have Been Colder
Solo
1060 Words

Red shivered under the layers of fur that Rangion had her wear as she stepped off of the boat onto Aisko. It was cold – colder than Ayr when the winter storms hit – and Red sniffled unhappily as it stung her eyes and lungs.

So this was Aisko. Suddenly, the young Dovaa wasn't so sure about her choice. She had been here for all of a moment, and it was miserable already.

Still, she wasn't going to back down or anything – she'd come this far and she'd been so certain back in Ayr. She'd known that Aiskala was her clan ever since that hailstone landed in her hand, and she couldn't go back now. Otherwise, what did that mean? That she was flighty?

Red was not flighty.

Plus, it would be embarrassing to tell Lae that she'd backed down, after all her talk of bravery and sticking to her goals. And she did want to tell Lae, when it was all over. She'd missed the girl on the boat, though they had known each other for only a day or so.

She knew she'd see the Orderite again soon, and she'd have a clan to show for it.

She hugged the package for Loresha, the Aiskalan tribe's chief, against her chest and waited for Rangion to come off the ship. The Hybrid took his time, finally dropping to the permafrost from the gangplank, his broadsword already riming over.

“Right.” he said, gesturing forward, “Lets go find these people.”

The wind began to pick up not long after they left Aisko's frozen docks, lashing into their barely exposed faces and worming its way between their furs. All around them, endless as the sky, was nothing but flat whiteness for as far as the eye could see, a distance slowly growing less.

Red drew close to Rangion – she knew a storm coming when she saw one, and was not keen on being alone in it.

Like a wild animal, it pounced on them. Suddenly the air around them was swirling white too, tearing at their precious warmth.

“We need to keep going!” shouted Rangion over the feral howling of the wind, “Their camp shouldn't be too far!”

“We gotta take shelter!” yelled Red back. Even she knew better than to face a storm head on.

“There is no shelter, unless you want to hunker down and be buried in snow!” he shouted back, “What, scared of a snowstorm?!”

“No!” Red replied, but this wasn't just a snowstorm – it was a ravaging beast of wind and cold.

“Then hold my hand and follow me!”

It was an eternity of laughing nothingness. Snow clung to her where it had been flung by the winds, and she began to join the whiteness of it all. The only thing that made her real was the hand that she gripped, and she clung to it, desperate for a way out of the interminability.

Finally, something – some shadow – loomed out of the swirling blankness. Red could hear the swishing of cloth as something stood up to the cruel wind.

“There they are!” Rangion's cried out, “Lets get inside.” She saw his hands move, undoing the flap and pulling her in.

Suddenly the whiteness was no longer, replaced by a homey, insulated,canvas-walled tent. A fire burned at the middle and, around it, several people in furs turned to look at them, surprised.

The snow-man that was Rangion redid the flap and brushed off the snow over his tribe medallion. “We're wild tribe.” he said, “The Kid's with me. Got room for us?”

At the sight of his medallion, the people smiled and made room.

Red warmed up by the fire, the snow melting off of her and puddling at her feet. One of their fellow shelterers was a peisio, and, with a smile, removed the water into a jug before it could chill her. Soon, though the wind still roared, outside, Red felt more like herself, and more intrigued by the ice magic than she had been before.

Eventually, after some passing around of soup, the winds died down, the beast of the storm pacing away to other haunts and lairs, and the people began to move.

Not long after the winds died, the flap opened and a dovaa woman with heated red eyes peered in. “Everybody okay in here?”

“We are.”

Her eyes bounced from person to person, seemingly doing a head count, before they fell on Rangion and Red. “Who are these two?”

Rangion showed his medallion again. “Guests. From Ayr... Guess we came at a bad time?”

Her suspicious frown melted into a grin. “There's never a good time to come to Aisko.” she came inside, giving them a through – but welcoming – look over. “Well, welcome. I'm Chief Loresha. What brings you all to the land of ice?”

Rangion took the package from Red's hands. “We were bringing this for you.” he said, as she accepted it, “From Chief Lira.”

“Finally...” she said, tucking the package safely away in her cloak.

“And this girl here...” he gave Red a humiliating pat on the shoulder, and she glared at him, “Zamanavyi...” She glared at him more, “Needs some help with her clan...”

“I'm flattered... Is she still choosing?”

“Nah...” he said.

“I want to be Aiskala.” she said, interrupting him defiantly. Maybe she'd meandered on the way, but the blizzard had settled it. She wanted to be wild and free and deadly, just like it.

“I think I get it. You need orbs, and I've got them...” she nodded, satisfied, “A good reason to come here. All right. Once I've checked on my people here, I'll be happy to send you off with a bunch of Aiskalan orbs... Once we talk about terms. Oh, you're fine.” she said, giving Rangion a dismissive gesture before turning to Red with a sly grin, “I'm not just going to give away a clan orb to a stranger brat who shows up on my doorstep. I gotta see if you're worth the trouble.”

Red was sure she was worth the trouble, but at Rangion's grip, she said nothing... only glared.

“Anyway, you two warm up and get settled. We'll talk...” she gestured at Red, “In a little bit.”

Test of Courage
Adventure: Peralian and Zamanavyi
259 words

Red shoved the flower in her sister's face.

“See?” she said, glowering, “I ain't no coward.”

Harasathi examined the flower. “What's this?” she asked, “And where did you find it.”

“Ain't none of your business, but I was real courageous.” she said belligerantly, leaning back. She had stretched herself across the table just to show it to her sister. “And that's proof.”

Her brother nodded: he had, after all, been watching her.

“So you take that back.” Red insisted, “Take back what you said.”

“No.” said Hara, plucking the flower from Red's grasp, “I won't” The ayrala turned and left. Red snarled and went after her, only to be stopped by her brother.

“Lemme go!” she said, cringing as her hand was jostled.

“Now just hang on.” said the big dovaa warrior, “Your hand's busted and you've pretty much proven your point. She just wants you to pick your clan. We're all worried...” he held out his hand for her broken one, “Let me fix you up a little.”

Red glared after her. “Fine.” she said finally, holding out her hand. “It's not like I don't know what it is.”

“Then choose it officially.” he said, “You should do it soon.”

“Why?” she asked, belligerent.

“You don't want to find out.” he said.

She tested her hand – splinted, it still hurt her. “I'll do it when my hand heals.” she said finally.

He laughed. “Fair enough...” he wrinkled his nose. “Now lets get you cleaned up. You smell awful.”

Bare Necessities
Hunt: Baowi
189 Words


When Red came to, she knew she was alive from the pounding in her head. She was alone in the slightly stinky and damp cave, with only bones and bodies for company. A light snow fell outside, and there was no sign of the Baowi that had attacked her.

She stood up, shaking her aching head. Well, not no sign. She'd been hit by its paw, and the growing lump on the side of her head counted as a sign of it's presence. It totally did. She staggered, regaining her addled balance, to the entrance of the cave.

She was furious – she had been aiming for a fight, and had gotten snuck up on and beaten without a second glance. It was not acceptable. She would have to find that Baowi again and pay it back.

She looked down at the snow and grinned: a headache was not the only thing that the beast had left behind. Slightly faded pawprints lingered in the snow and, with a final shake of her head and a few slaps to the cheeks to wake her up, Red began to follow them...

Grin - - And Bear It
Response to Baowi Hunts

Red's gloating was short lived as pain seemed to strike her in her side. Apparently, in her frenzy to kill the Baowi, they had gotten more hits in than she'd realized. A wound, not deep, oozed blood on her side, and another sizzled with pain along her leg. She was dirty and covered in blood, which was great, except it was starting to congeal. And, as the battle fury began to fade, she realized she was exhausted. She needed to get clean. She needed to rest. She needed to go back to the village.

But she refused to go back empty handed.

She summoned a knife out of ice and got to work skinning the baowi, discarding the severely damaged portions in favor of the thicker, more complete parts of their pelts. Then she took whatever of their red, iron-rich meat she could carry – it wouldn't do to waste all of it, though she had to waste some. Waste was not what a wild tribesperson did.

Later she could return and get more, but this was what she had now, and she began to carry her hard-won burden back to the village, very much pleased with herself. It was a long journey, but she survived.

She was too exhausted, however, to enjoy the shocked and impressed looks of the tribespeople as she collapsed onto the first comfortable thing she found, snoring widely.

When she next awoke, she was in a tent, her wounds treated, her pelts ready to treat, and her meat roasting on the fire nearby.

And she was so, incredibly, undeniably proud of herself.