Broken Sanctuary by J.X. Jenks, Chapters 10-20
Master file link: https://rentry.org/brokensanctuary
Previous chapters: https://rentry.org/brokensanctuary1
CHAPTER TEN
Before his return, she had made camp a significant distance away and assumed that he would have returned by then. The sun traversed the sky, casting long shadows across the landscape as Venka waited with growing unease. She paced, her claws leaving imprints in the soft earth, her feathers ruffling with each anxious glance toward the tomb's entrance. As the light began to fade, she debated whether to venture inside, her fear of the Sky People's evil warring with her concern for Davee. She hissed in frustration, tail lashing behind her. Somehow his "short while" turned into entire claws of daylight.
Just as she steeled herself to enter the tomb, a shuffling sound preceded Davee's emergence. He stumbled out, laden with strange objects, his face a mix of excitement and exhaustion. Venka's relief quickly turned to anger as she saw the artifacts he carried. Her feathers flared, a low growl building in her throat as she realized what he had done.
Without a word, she turned and stalked away and did not help him move any of the evil artifacts he had taken from that awful place. Her silence spoke volumes, the tension between them palpable in the cool evening air. Looking back, she saw him standing there with a confused, wounded frown as she left him to hobble along by himself. She didn't want to look at him again, and when the loud racket of his return to camp grew unbearable she bared her teeth and kept her eyes on the stars in a silent prayer for forgiveness. Many of her people had probably done the same back when those monsters descended upon them, but the Goddess could not protect them all.
Venka was both afraid and disgusted, but he seemed entirely unbothered by the sacrilegious act he had committed. Furious, she had to quietly remind herself that they were different people, but the edge of her indignation had severed forgiveness from her heart.
When he looked up at Venka she was furiously glaring at him. Davee foolishly shook his head—as if she were somehow wrong!
"This is a terrible thing you have done," she growled. "You bring misfortune to us both."
With an exasperated huff he shook his head again. "I just took things we could use like things that we lost or were ruined. Nothing else."
"We do not need any of this!" Venka snarled, not hiding her feelings anymore. "Our camp is a safe place, I did not think I needed to explain this to you, but perhaps I was foolish to imagine someone so soft could understand. Even the smallest child knows not—"
He shouted at her.
Venka wound back with a flared mane of feathers as she replied, "Do not act like I am somehow wrong for being concerned about your foolishness! This magic you play with is powerful."
"It's not magic, Venka! Stop saying everything is magic!" Davee yelled. He banged the Sky People objects together for emphasis. "Nothing there, see? It's done. They are done. They are not coming back to this world, there is nothing here except not advanced people and old garbage."
"Not advanced? Do you mean savages?" she asked with a violent edge to her voice. "Do you mean the Upright People, Davee?"
"Yes!" he shouted. "You! You are savages to th—"
She snarled at his hurtful words and crossed the distance between them in a flash, her feathers flared in a challenge as she towered over him with her face nearly touching his. Restraining herself, she kept her claws flexing at her sides, the slits of her emerald eyes wide as she stared him into submission. Shock and concern had contorted his features into something that was less beautiful than yesterday; he leaned away from her as the low growl left her throat.
"Know this, human," her teeth pulled back as her tongue flicked out to taste his fear, "this savage before you saved your life. Carried you, held you close to her breast to keep you warm like a mother for a baby. You may think you can tame these things, but," she poked his scalp with a painful clawprick, "that mind of yours does not know everything."
He gave a furious glare in her direction, betraying the undercurrent of defiant rage he had reigned back, but he did not look at her. He did not challenge her. Satisfied she had made her point, the huntress stepped away and sat down again with a sharp exhale as she tried to will herself into calmness.
After a few tense moments of her claws tapping against a rock, her feathers flicking as she thought a hundred mean things to say, she finally muttered, "We should sleep apart tonight."
"I'll be out here," the human quietly replied. "I want to be alone."
Venka huffed and got up, looking back for a moment before she slid into the shelter. Without him in there she could sleep as she had always preferred, and after a few tugs from her claws both articles of clothing fell to the floor before closing the flap behind her. Once under the strange blankets she found that her anger had not abated. What a fool, she thought. Perhaps the last survivor of his kind and he invites evil into their camp? Venka had never known him to be so reckless, he had always shown a deference toward her skill and knowledge. Their relationship was quite clear to her up until today: he follows and tends camp, she leads and protect them.
Davee had broken their unspoken covenant and then had the gall to call her primitive. Were he a female she would have cut that pretty hide in a dozen ways, her mind flickering with images of the fight as she made a fist, but she could not sate the rage she felt. Even stepping outside to argue some more wouldn't help, she knew that. Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow we shall revisit this.
Opening her eyes, she could smell the morning meal and glanced over at the empty spot where his bed should have been. Memory of their argument stepped to the front of her mind and she sighed. Sitting up, she covered her breasts before awkwardly wiggling herself into the loincloth. Once clothed, she tested both garments with an experimental tug before opening the flap and stepping out. Davee was there and they did not share so much as a glance, she simply walked into the nearby woods. With the morning relief out of the way she made to return to camp, but before she stood up she had a sudden, deep sense that something was watching her.
Venka's eyes scanned for threats until she saw a distant shape in the grass. Tightening her loincloth, she decided if she should run or fight, but her gaze darted side to side looking for other threats. Prey ran from a single threat, she had been the dark shape herself many times.
Scent of food caught her nose, her tongue tasting it on the air, Venka backed slowly toward camp until she was some distance from the dark stand of trees.
Sitting back down at camp, she glanced up and saw that he had made her a plate of the mushrooms and some of their fresh meat. All the usual effort was evident, the herbs he used, the care with which he prepared and fried everything, but the presentation was just as enticing as that meal he made to reward her for getting them over the mountain. Venka realized that this was his apology, but she was not so ready to forgive him yet and chose to savor every bite.
"I hope you like it, I tried my best," he said quietly without looking up.
Venka nodded and simply replied, "It's good."
"Better than usual?"
Choosing to say nothing, she simply took another bite and flicked her gaze toward him before looking off into the distance. Foolish, ignorant male, she thought.
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the sounds of their eating and the gentle tinkling of the horrid sin under his curious fingers. Venka's mind raced, replaying the events of the previous day. With each passing moment, her anger simmered, threatening to boil over. Venka's tail twitched irritably as she finished her meal, her eyes constantly darting to the pile of artifacts Davee had brought back; her mind racing with unspoken accusations.
Davee cleared his throat, clearly about to speak, but Venka raised a claw to silence him. She wasn't ready to hear his excuses or explanations. Obviously annoyed, Davee began sorting through things he had taken, his excitement palpable as he examined each item. The sight of him handling the Sky People's objects with such reverence made her stomach churn.
Finally he sighed abruptly and looked at her expectantly. Venka's feathers bristled in anticipation, her muscles tensed as she waited in cold fury for the first words.
"Venka, I think we should talk about yesterday. I didn't mean to—"
"Didn't mean to what?" Venka interrupted, her voice sweetened by bitter sarcasm. "Didn't mean to desecrate the forbidden? Didn't mean to bring evil into our camp?"
"I know you're upset," he began, his voice cautious, but his face flushed with frustration. "You don't understand. These aren't evil, they're tools."
"Tools," she scoffed.
"They are, just like..." he paused, her eyes darted to him to catch his chest lurch as if he choked on the next word. Recovering, he quickly said, "They could help us survive."
With that her patience snapped like a brittle branch; claws digging into the earth as she struggled to contain her wrath.
"Survive?" Venka hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "Those things nearly wiped out my people. How dare you suggest they could help us."
Davee's eyes widened, a mix of shock and frustration evident on his face as he held up his hands. "You don't understand what these things are capable of," he insisted, his voice rising. "They're not evil, they're just..." he finished his point by babbling foreign nonsense.
Venka's feathers bristled at the unfamiliar word. "Tek... Teknowa..." she mumbled, her ire rapidly growing until it boiled over. "What is this?! Is that what you call the weapons that slaughtered my people?"
"It wasn't meant for that," Davee argued. "Nothing here is for that, there are no weapons—"
Venka slammed her fist down and snarled, nearly roared, at him with her teeth bared and mane alight with the rage that had simmered all night.
"I hate them!" the huntress growled, each word pouring malice into the air. "I would kill every last one of them if I could! Do you understand me?! They made us like pets before the Goddess! Humiliated and broke us! Took us like..." she shuddered with incomprehensible disgust, "Like they were a tribe raiding for fresh boys!"
She stood up and shuddered again, her jaw tight as she looked down at him and his... tools.
Through her clenched teeth Venka growled, "If I had one before me now I would gut her belly and smash her eggs in her," she spoke with a low and deadly voice, "I would savor the pain and shame as the light left her eyes and I would leave her body to rot like a pest. A thing to be discarded."
Venka wanted to destroy something.
"I'd kill every last one if I could," she hissed. "I would take my time if I had one in front of me," her claws sank into her palm as she made a fist, her eyes on the fresh blood. "I'd skin them alive, all of them. I'd claw the fruit off their males and force it down the throats of their proudest warriors if I got such a chance."
Davee froze.
"Was that too much for you to hear, Davee?" she muttered with a spiteful glance. "Do you think I am alone in this hatred?"
"No, I don't," he replied, his jaw tense. "I believe you."
Sympathy tugged at her rage, but only enough to take her out of wicked fantasy that had already crawled from her throat. Males weren't supposed to hear such awful things, she regretted the entire subject and her part in making it worse with barbaric vulgarity. Venka was still furious and she grit her teeth as she tried to consider his position of ignorance. These held no sway over his mind, he was too gentle to fear them, but that did not change what had been done already.
"What should I say to you, Davee?" she groaned as she began to pace. "You in your nest of evil, surrounded by their wicked things."
"They're just—"
"Stop!" Venka shouted at him with a sharp point of her claw. "Enough with these excuses! You have made your claims, you have said what you wanted to say, but it does not change what I know to be wrong. I will speak of this no more, Davee, you must choose."
He looked shocked, almost as shocked as the jolt of panic that cut through her after giving the ultimatum the power of spoken word.
Venka's heart raced, a mix of fury and fear coursing through her veins. She hadn't meant to issue such a drastic demand, but the words had tumbled out before she could stop them. She felt betrayed, her trust in Davee shaken to its core. But beneath the anger lay a deeper emotion—disappointment. She had thought they were growing closer, learning to understand each other, but now it felt like they were worlds apart. Despite their differences she had grown fond of him, but that affection was a burden as thought of continuing alone filled her with a deep, aching dread.
"Choose what?" he asked, his voice tight.
Panic surged through Venka as she realized the weight of her words. Part of her yearned to take it back, to find a compromise, but the sight of everything he had disturbed scattered around him made her blood boil. The thought of losing Davee sent a pang of anguish through her chest, but her pride and deeply ingrained beliefs held her firm.
Folding her arms, Venka said, "Choose either these things you have taken," her lips tightened as she braced herself and inhaled, "or you can choose me. I will not walk with you anymore if you have them."
He sat down in obvious shock, but as the moment dragged out she could see his mind working. Sometimes the Shaman would speak of energy, of a radiance from a person, when they were in need of spiritual guidance or had some emotion that dominated their every action and even into their dreams. Looking at him there, she could almost see the budding agony cloud the air around him as he decided. She began to worry that he would choose poorly, that he would choose something that would make her feel fully the sadness and regret that threatened to constrict her soul and squeeze all the joy from her life.
Venka's fears became real when she saw his jaw set.
Looking up at her with an immovable resolve in his eyes he shook his head. "No, Venka, I won't choose. You can't make me," he replied, his voice matching the ice in his glare. "If you want to leave me, fine, I am not strong enough to stop you and I wouldn't even if I could. This is going to be your choice."
Her lip quivered before she looked away. "Fine!" she snarled, choosing anger over sadness. "Fine, I'll go then! Enjoy your so-called tools, Davee!"
Turning away from him, she began to gather up only what she needed to immediately leave. Venka chose to keep the heavy pack, but most of the contents that would normally be stuffed inside she considered his things and simply left them inside their shared shelter. That was his too. Venka needed little, but if he cared so much for trinkets than he could figure out how to carry all of the miscellaneous nonsense on his own. A majority of the food was left behind with him, she had no need nor desire to starve him, but she kept the spare waterskin.
Davee looked at her as she left, but she did not pay him any attention.
With her snout high and feathers proud, she set off.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she marched through the tall grass. With no one around to see her sobbing, she felt free to let them flow freely, her eyes burning as she walked alone. The ache in her chest felt like a physical wound, and more than once she found herself stopping, looking back the way she had come.
After much of the day had been spent going in one direction she was shocked to discover that he had actually broken camp and left the hillside. When he had done that was impossible to say, but part of her wanted to believe that he was trailing along after her like a lost child. Had she left a strong enough trail by simply walking through the grass? Venka recalled the small creek she had stopped at and washed herself, she had walked along it before crossing up the other side of the hill... He wouldn't be able to follow.
Venka planned all the ways that she could save time in finding him, tracking him would've been impossible after a strong rain. Then something, some nagging part of her mind, told her to stop and then she remembered his last words to her.
This is going to be your choice.
Falling to her knees, the tears started to come again and she held herself tightly as she battled the wave of emotions. No matter how she felt, she had to return to her people. Venka had to keep going.
Several attempts to cease the tears and focus on her path ahead were necessary before she could stand up and dry her eyes.
Venka's claws dug into the earth with each step, her determination fueled by a mixture of rage and sorrow. The weight of her decision pressed down upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. She found herself constantly looking over her shoulder to see Davee's familiar silhouette—more than she wanted to admit—following in her wake. Instead, the landscape behind her remained empty, save for the swaying grass and distant hills.
But pride and hurt drove her forward, away from him, she had expected him to pick her. Even the cheerful warmth of the sun on the surprisingly clear day could not soothe her, its heat seeming to instead mock her misery, her mind kept circling back to the argument, to Davee's stubborn refusal to choose. The day stretched endlessly before her, each step carrying her further from the only companion she'd known in this strange journey. Venka's normally keen senses were so dulled that she missed an opportunity to feast, the huntress screamed in frustration as the juvenile tanchoka bounded away bleating a warning.
The sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the grassy plains. She had left to protect herself, to uphold her beliefs, but with each passing hour, the victory felt increasingly hollow. A gnawing emptiness didn't feel like much of a win, she found herself considering how to find him again. As she settled onto the hard ground, she couldn't help but long for the comfort of their shared shelter, the warmth of Davee's presence beside her.
As twilight settled over the land, Venka made camp alone for the first time since meeting Davee. The gentle whisper of the wind through the grass mocked her without his noise there to keep it away. Far away the distant cries of nocturnal creatures felt like accusations. Venka's mind raced, replaying the argument over and over, searching for words left unsaid; a path she could have taken had their argument gone differently.
She could've sworn she heard him in the distance that night and her gut instinct was to run to him, but when she turned around in the darkness she saw no fire. Had he not known how to get wood? Did he need her? When her body sprawled out on the ground the cold was unbearable, how she had endured it before meeting him was a mystery. Sleep was short, fitful, and unsatisfying.
As the second day of her solitary journey began, Venka found herself listening for sounds that weren't there: the rustle of Davee following behind her, a clatter of his exotic things dangling from his pack, his voice... How she missed his voice. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the grass and the occasional animal cry. He would've asked about that, she thought. She had grown accustomed to his constant presence, those questions, even the occasional comment in his own language—only a painful void remained.
Venka tried to distract herself by focusing on her surroundings; a game trail, the marks of claws against a rock, a small spring of water but even these practical concerns couldn't fully occupy her troubled mind.
As the sun climbed higher, Venka said, "Gola flowers, I used these to..."
She trailed off.
The sound of her own voice, raspy from disuse, startled her. A fantasy of a quick question aimed at the hanging end of the sentence.
"Used these to what, Venka?"
His specter wasn't done.
"Did you use them to heal me? Nurse me back to health when you thought you killed me? You almost did, you know that."
She fell silent, the weight of her decision pressing down upon her again and took all of her focus. Venka had normally been so adept at keeping unemotional as she had been taught by her mother and the other huntresses, it was the first secret she had kept from her father. Males didn't understand the danger of losing one's own mind to rage or sorrow or even love, they simply did not have the physical strength to destroy everything they cared about in a flash of passion.
Before the Low People came she had no cause to let go and become the animal within, but she began to wonder if she had forgotten how to truly walk Upright.
Perhaps it was best if he wasn't around?
Venka shook her head at the thought. A cool breeze carried the scent of rain, and Venka's feathers ruffled instinctively. They had been warmed by the merciless sun as she trudged onward in the early part of the day, the heat they had gathered pricked the fine scales of her scalp with an unpleasant sensation.
A flock of birds took flight overhead, their leathery wings beating a rhythmic cadence against the sky. Venka watched them soar and wished she had seen them sooner. Unfortunately, her mind was in mutiny and now only seemed to seek out any trace of Davee's presence.
The sun beat down mercilessly as Venka trudged onward. His quiet wonder at the world around them had been infectious. How had she not noticed it earlier? Memory of him simply looking off into the distance and admiring the sight, or looking up at the sky with a reserved and solemn face, seeped into the front of her mind as she stared at the dirt below. Even that had been something only he regarded as interesting, she recalled the conversation about tending to plants and the value of the soil. Venka wondered if the path she walked was good dirt or bad dirt.
Not good enough, probably, she concluded. This was only preferred by the sharp blades of grass.
A valuable insight she would take back to the Shaman. His story was also important; she had to tell her tribe about the strange male that had a habit of bringing a fresh perspective to things she had long taken for granted. Of course, the most important news would be Venka's trickery; the ruse against the Low People would be well-received. As she thought of the relief the rain would bring, she realized that their trail would be much more difficult to follow. Happily, she turned to tell him the good news, knowing he had been confused by her reaction to being hunted.
Nothing was there; no smile, no blue eyes, not even the whisper of a voice where there ought to be one.
Her cruel mind fixed that.
"That's great, Venka! Maybe they'll chase me instead! Since they're tracking my scent and not yours."
Venka snarled at the empty space, her anger turning inward. Stupid girl, she berated herself. How could you ruin everything like this? He was just one male. Couldn’t you have kept him in your arms? Or gone after him?
No, she answered herself. No, I couldn’t have. I should have never said what I said.
As midday approached, Venka’s tongue flicked, catching the taste of water. She followed it to a small stream, clear and inviting. But as she knelt to drink, her reflection in the rippling water startled her. The face that stared back seemed older, wearier than she remembered.
She wondered if Davee would recognize her if their paths crossed again.
Dipping her lips, she pulled in the sweet liquid and sated a thirst that had grown while she had been distracted by the incessant thoughts of her lost companion. Hunger made itself known as she felt the cold splash inside her stomach and she looked up at the surface while she drank. Still shallow and small, the source of the stream seemed to be further up in the rocky hills off to her left which meant no fish. Food could wait, she finally had something else to feel and she clung to the discomfort of an empty belly as she continued her journey.
The afternoon stretched on endlessly, Venka stopped blotting the sun's crawl across the sky with her claws and accepted that the day would drag on. Nothing could be done about it and her pace slowed as fatigue set in, but she chose not to rest. Only a sharp change in the breeze, now coming in from her right, brought relief.
After countless strides through the sharp grass the heat of the day began to wane, but as she looked off into the distance the air still danced off the distant hills.
Venka realized that she had forgotten to fill the waterskin, her teeth gritting as she marched and the fantasy of having another drink somewhere up ahead kept her busy. Maybe they... she... could eat something. Something foraged, at least, the animals seemed to be avoiding the wilting melancholy that clouded around her. She considered making camp, but the thought of another night alone spurred her onward. Somewhere with a cave, where she could hide and not have to worry about animals or making a fire.
It was late afternoon when an unfamiliar sound caught her attention.
Venka froze, her feathers bristling as she strained to hear. A throaty shout that rolled over the hills as it echoed, the wind carrying it just a little further.
When the wind shifted she could hear it again, coming from the spot up ahead. Venka picked up the pace and wondered who that could be—almost certainly not Davee—but hope spurned her on into a hurried jog toward the shouting. If not him, then someone, and they were in obvious distress. Memories of conversations moons ago about the raiders in these parts flashed through her mind. Perhaps the hunting party had sisters in trouble. Then, inevitably, Venka's imagination taunted her with images of Davee being dragged away, screaming into the night.
She would solve this problem and backtrack; she couldn’t leave him alone. Not now.
There it was again, she thought.
Without conscious thought, Venka found herself running toward the sound. Her powerful legs carried her swiftly through the grass, her heart pounding with fear and anticipation. As she drew closer, she could hear snarls, the clash of rocks. Venka scanned for a landmark and found only a solitary, stubborn tree growing from the rocks. Tossing her heavy pack against it, she leaned into a full sprint, drawing in the fresh air scented by recent rains. She huffed the fresh air brought by the torrential rains as she weaved between the rocks and up the slight incline. Between a small cliff and a steep ridge was an opening, well-traveled, and she made for it as fast as she could.
She burst from the pass into a small, grassy clearing. The sight that greeted her made her blood run cold.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Three creatures were circling a spire of rock, overgrown with moss and vines, that obviously had someone hiding at the top. Venka couldn’t smell them—her tongue flicked out as she slid to a halt—but animals did not shout and they certainly did not hurl stones.
The creatures stared at her. Venka felt the weight of their predatory eyes, her chest tightening under the pressure.
With hackles raised, they slinked forward through the grass, growling low. Venka had no name for these creatures, but they were twisted echoes of her own kind—or perhaps of the Low People—stretched out into something feral. Their heads were tall and angular, with eyes like her own, expressive and able to look forward, and at the end of their snouts, they had a sharp beak where their nose should've been. Camouflaged by the grass, they would’ve been nearly invisible; they were the exact color and shade of green. Dark spines running along their heads and down their backs resembled her own feathers as they flexed them in aggressive displays. They currently walked on all fours, but she could see that their hind legs were much, much larger and probably built to chase down prey with merciless efficiency.
One thing they did not have was size. They were thin creatures, and these ones looked gaunt and starved—a condition that made them very dangerous. Even so, Venka likely weighed more than five of them combined.
As one, they turned to her, hissing a challenge that made her feathers stand on end. Venka did not hesitate.
Throwing her head back, she came forward and drove her claws into the dirt with a primal roar.
As the sound reverberated off the cliffs, her opponents faltered for a moment, clearly not expecting such fury from a larger, fiercer version of themselves to be so ready to fight back. Hesitation broke an immutable law of the wild; it was weakness manifest, and theirs was ripe to exploit. On instinct, she charged forward, claws extended, her feathered mane fully flared as she bore down on the largest one. Venka could see the shift in their eyes, the moment they realized this new threat outweighed the potential meal trapped on the rock.
Hunger quickly overcame caution. The largest of the three, scales bearing the scars of past battles, lunged at Venka with startling speed. Expecting to collide, it surprised her by jumping with its sharp talons out.
Venka pivoted and twisted herself past the creature, snarling as she swiped for it and found nothing. The other two darted forward, spreading out to flank her. Venka’s gaze flicked between them as she circled, every muscle strained and taut as she readied to be pounced.
Behind her, the smallest lunged, aiming for her unguarded leg with an open maw. Venka saw this and struck with her tail, the impact sending it bouncing through the grass. Again, the largest rushed forth, snarling as it went for her throat, but she swiped at it to drive it back.
As she drove it back, the smallest darted in and snapped for her with a clatter of its jaws, but the experienced huntress twisted and struck back with claw. She bolted forward and swiped again, the fight traveling that way as the other two closed the distance. Venka saw this, turned, and managed to catch the largest in the face with a ferocious swipe that sent it reeling back. A sense of accomplishment coursed through her, and a smirk turned her lips as it hissed and retreated.
More strikes followed. Venka pushed the beast onto the defensive as she growled in delight and pursued, but he didn't rout. A controlled retreat left her open, and she defended herself from the smallest with a sharp kick to the face.
A swipe across her thigh left burning lines that trickled red.
Venka backed off, glancing at the wound as they circled her. Not deep, not deadly—but it fueled her rage. She charged at the largest, agony goading her on in her pursuit to kill. Twisting her muscular form, she swiped once for it with her claws and brought her jaws together with a resounding crack. Distracted by her assault, she didn't notice the little one coming in again, and Venka backed up to face them both.
A beak snapped over her shoulder and she screamed—roared—from the explosion of pain. With fire in her green eyes, she threw herself back on top of its small body, the beast letting go as it bleated in alarm.
Before she could strike, the other two seized the opportunity, charging from opposite sides. Venka dropped low, allowing the smallest to sail over her head. As it passed, she grabbed its tail, using the momentum and her superior mass to swing and slam it into its packmate. The collision sent them tumbling, but they recovered quickly, more enraged than ever. The crushed one struggled to its feet, limping away and clearly dazed.
Venka didn't give it time to recover. She reached out and sank her claws into the tail. The predator screamed as it was dragged back, the wet smack of her claw to meat ending the noise. Blood sprayed from the throat as it tried to run, red bubbles and froth pouring out as the body flailed behind her. With one down, she turned to face the others as murderous rage flashed in her emerald eyes.
They snarled and hissed at her from both sides, snapping their jaws. Venka moved back as her lips curled with a low growl.
When the smallest of the three bolted in, she reacted instantly, turning to face the tenacious threat, but he surprised her by darting back. With widened eyes, Venka cranked her muscular frame to face the real threat, a surge of astonishment blasting across her nerves as the largest was already mid-pounce with open jaws and readied claws.
Using all of her strength and agility, she planted the claws of her toes into the ground and pushed off, a hand stretching out to catch the beast square in the throat as he came down. When her scales met his, she buckled, his mass forcing her to a knee as she held him aloft as his tail swung around. Venka caught that too, growling as she flexed her claws and watched him thrash in her grip. Rage overwhelmed her as she watched him struggle; she wanted to see him bleed between her fingers.
Pain snapped her out of it.
She screamed in fury as he broke free, and with a hateful glare, she cracked the small one over the head with the tip of her tail. Across her lower back, he had left deep gashes; she couldn't see them, and she didn't have time to try as the largest opponent pounced on her and knocked her back.
Venka held him at arm's length by his chest, digging her claws into his ribs as he leaned over and snapped for her neck with his jaws. A foot came down and pinned her arm, claws curling around it for purchase as it dropped down. Their tails thrashed wildly as she brought her feet up to scratch at it, the other foot landing on her groin before pinning her wounded thigh.
Growling, she kicked it back and turned her focus on the one on top. As it snapped, she waited for the right moment to strike.
All in a flash she her hand over the beak, and her own maw was wide as she pulled it down. Before it could reverse effort, her teeth found purchase, and she bit with all her might.
Pain seared through her head as the spines on his back dug into her mouth. She felt them flex and quiver as her teeth bit between bone and sinew. A muted pop ended his efforts, the body going limp as the neck snapped, and Venka flung the corpse aside.
Rolling to all fours, the huntress locked eyes with the last one.
Her tongue fondled the spines in her mouth, forcing them free from the soft flesh, and she spat the bundle out; never taking her eyes off the prey. They stood alone, their gazes meeting as the creature hesitated. Venka’s eyes burned with the hunger for another kill. She inhaled deeply, then wound back and bellowed a murderous roar at the scared little beast.
The little monster cried out and bolted for the trees.
Venka pursued her target to the edge of the clearing, the lust of a chase overpowering her as she roared again. The prowling huntress could hear it crashing through the grass and bushes as it fled.
At the wall of rock it turned to face her, but she crashed into it with all her mass. They locked together in a whirlwind of slashing claws and snapping teeth, the beak a feather's width from her throat as she held the creature back with a bleeding arm. Falling backward, they rolled along the ground as she fought to stay on top, but Venka felt her strength waning from exertion, the blood loss from her wounds both taking its toll. When it bit on her arm, she clamped her jaws over its snout.
A crunch of bone echoed through Venka's head as the creature squealed and thrashed in her clenched maw. But this was a fight to the death, and her patience was gone. Watching it from her one eye, she could feel her prey's teeth coming loose, popping free as she crushed the skull until the structure could bear no more. With a loud pop, it collapsed, the rush of blood into her mouth creamy with the taste of brain. Its death throes were violent, but brief, and as its struggles ceased, she let go and fell back—her chest heaving with exertion.
Silence.
As quickly as it began, it was over.
Only ragged breathing defied the tyranny of nothing.
Off in the distance, she heard a rock tumble.
Rising to her feet, Venka returned to the natural pillar, her gaze lifting as another stone was cast from its peak.
"They're gone!" she called out, her voice firm against the quiet. "Their blood will attract more—come down!"
Her blood would too. When she received no answer, her feathers raised with immediate curiosity, but then she considered the alternative: injury. Venka scowled and began to scale the pillar, testing her claws against the chalky rock before scaling up the side. Pain nipped and gnawed at the edges of her nerves, but she steeled herself and persevered toward the top. A seasoned climber, she chose a gentler path around the side and glimpsed something over her shoulder—a gathering of sibling pillars stretching toward the cliff. On one, a shiny object caught the light, and Venka made a note to investigate it.
First, she thought, I must save this one. I came this far; I shall not fail another.
As she crested the edge, the flutter of feathers greeted her, and a howling head strained against bonds, lashed down over a nest of sticks and tiny bones. After a moment, it snapped at her, defending its brood, and in doing so one of the rocks came free and tumbled to the ground below.
Venka snatched up the unfamiliar animal in her fist, holding it aloft to inspect the cordage. Memory of that style flickered forth, reminding her of Davee's feet, his boots, the cordage to keep them tight against his foot was of that style.
As the creature thrashed and flapped its wings in vain, she clung to the rock and tried to parse through the events. Davee had remained behind, she had moved ahead, and then kept moving further still at her own pace instead of his, which should've put her so much further ahead. These were his things, though, and unless there were other humans about, something strange had happened. Pressing her snout to it was useless, as was tasting it, and her arm was beginning to feel numb.
Releasing her fist, she began her crawl down while her eyes tracked the livid beast, only relaxing after dropping out of sight.
While climbing down, the nesting animal bellowed a sound that was exactly like a shout. Venka shook her head and took a different, more direct, path to the ground that crossed over some vines. A curious sight greeted her, and she cocked her head to look at the blue rag of a familiar, yet alien, fabric.
Leaning forward, she inhaled, and the scent of him rolled into her mind. Fear, pain, apprehension... Venka recognized the emotions; they were so foreign and all so familiar, and the unmistakable maleness unique in a small way to the creature she knew as Davee. A sharp longing for him stabbed her in the chest as she climbed, her own fears beginning to form answers to the question of how and why he had been there. Dark and painful thoughts twisted the blade.
Either he had somehow passed her in the night, or someone had taken him. Carried him away.
Stolen him.
Venka felt a sinking feeling as she climbed down, her body quivering with growing terror.
Bravery came easily for her, as naturally as any other female, but it had always been a response to an external threat. Instinct drove her to fight, to conquer, to kill, but it had no guidance for the huntress as her shivering arms struggled to hold the rocks. This fear she felt in her gut, that strangled her lungs and clenched her heart, it was a threat that shook her confidence and resolve. Venka began to understand that she might have made a mistake, one that could not be so easily corrected. With no enemy to fight, she could not kill, and with the nebulous absence of her companion, she could not conquer.
Finally, she had climbed down again, and she let her arms hang as the sensation of needles wore on her nerves. Much of her strength had spilled out of her many wounds; she had to attend to them first before anything else. Weakness prevented her from immediately rising, and she sat still to simply rest as she observed her surroundings. Blood had been cast across the grass in gruesome arcs, some of it her own, and she remembered shouting that it would attract more. Hungry animals were not above eating their own kind, but perhaps she would prove a better meal.
With a heavy sigh she moved to stand, but something caught her eye.
There, on a vine, she saw a strip of her lost companion's alien fabric. Instinctively, her tongue flicked out to taste the air and she recoiled. She knew the scent of his sweat, his skin—their bodies had been close many times. This rag had been deliberately wiped across his form. Purposefully.
Why?
Venka's gaze lifted, noticing another ribbon fluttering, tied to the vine. She stood to sample the air.
Most curiously, the other strip of cloth had been soaked in urine, raising even more questions. Assuming he had been taken, which seemed logical given the advanced pace he had made, there would be no reason for his captors to put him on top of the rocks and make him mark it with his scent. Even the most bizarre abductor would prioritize returning to their camp, their village. The evidence was perplexing. Venka looked around the clearing, her tongue flicking out to find a trail, but only the stench of her fight to survive lingered.
She had heard shouting, she was sure of that. It wasn't just that creature making the noise. Something had happened in the clearing that resulted in his absence, the predatory creatures lingering, and the creature at the top of the rock being bound by cordage unique to him.
Venka's feathers perked up as she remembered the glinting on the rocks, her eyes narrowing as she looked toward it.
Had he jumped?
Davee wouldn’t have left his pack behind, she mused. No, he must have thrown it first.
Her eyes traced the imagined trajectory from the top of the rock, through the air, to where the pack would have landed. She pictured his small, nimble form leaping after it, crashing against the rock with a pained grunt. In her mind, he would have been quick to pick himself up and run, oblivious to anything knocked from the pack in the process.
That made sense to her, and Venka knelt, running through the scenario in her mind again.
Silence in the clearing lapped over her conscious thoughts like gentle waves, dissolving them as she took in the grisly aftermath of the battle. Before people came here it probably had been a very serene place—somewhere she might have chosen to make a home, if she had to. But now, with the blood and the still bodies, it felt as though she had defaced something beautiful. Though she had never intended for this, it felt like a crime all the same.
Davee had a small part to play in that, but that was why she did not feel her efforts had been wasted. Thanks to his deception, the brave huntress had a trail.
Before doing anything else Venka chose to fix her wounds. With firm and steady breaths, she walked back toward the stout tree, wondering how she could use her meager supplies with every step that became increasingly painful as time wore on. A way to dull the pain would be helpful, and her eyes scanned for flora that might assist her, but the white petals and branching fronds tipped in gold of the hassaca flower were nowhere to be found.
Sitting down, she inspected the deeper teeth marks that had punctured her arm at some point. Flicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she didn’t feel any extra spines, but she knew one had buried itself deep in the flesh inside her cheek. Venka inhaled deeply, pushing past the wall of pain, and inflated her torso into a realm of agony. With careful, deliberate movements, she peeled the inside of her cheek away from her teeth and used the flat edge of a claw to probe for the spine. A shock of pain made her tail flick, her feathers twitching in anticipation as she focused on the spot along her snout and pushed.
A little spire poked through her scales, growing until she could push no more, the hot, searing pain throbbing as she reached up and pulled the spike out through the top of her snout.
Holding it out in front of her, she saw that it was still intact and rigid, making it an excellent tool for digging a tooth out of a swelling wound. Venka twisted her arm to get a good look at the worst offender and stabbed the quill in, using it to feel for the serrated edge. A small bit of leverage forced the tooth out.
Repeating this two more times was easy enough, and she felt for more along her shoulder with the edges of her claws and pads of her fingers. Somehow she had either gotten lucky and they fell out, or the beast hadn’t been able to bite that hard.
Next, she clawed at the grass, digging through the lush soil. After some serious effort, she made a hole deep enough to reach up to her knees, her black claws finally finding the layer underneath. Scratching out a few fistfuls, she held them up to the light and then to the blood dripping from her arm. The colors weren’t the same, but as she had been taught, it was best to find dirt half as red as blood. Venka used both handfuls to smear against her tan scales along her arm, shoulder, side, and back. Everything that remained was used with the grass to wipe her hands clean.
A bit of painful straining allowed her to remove her breastcloth. Venka sighed as the tension released, massaging the lingering throbbing caused by the leather garment out of her soft scales. Modesty could be set aside for comfort—she felt she had earned some relief. Scouring the breastcloth with more clay, she rubbed the crease that had irritated her left breast until it was smooth before tightly rolling the bloodied leather and squeezing it with her fists, twisting it to work out any remaining kinks or folds. She set the leather aside to rest.
Water would be a precious resource in the hills; she would have to be content with beating the clay and grime free and hoping that it hadn’t stained too badly.
A shaman would have attended to her expertly, but she had to make do with the lessons passed down from mother to daughter. With her chest bare, she positioned the strap of her pack comfortably between her still-aching breasts. She didn’t care about covering up—the pain was starting to wear on her, and her body screamed through her nerves as she tried to lift the pack.
With a muffled scream bubbling past her clenched teeth and lips, she hoisted the pack up and forced her arms through the straps. Her heart pounded, her body on fire with agony, but she steadied herself after some tense breaths. Gradually, every part of her that had protested the effort settled into a dull, bearable throb, persistent but manageable, as she turned back toward the clearing. Things were beginning to make sense to the huntress: she had the human’s trail, leading up into the rocks.
Venka had scaled the rocks to find the first clue of the trail, sparkling in the setting sun, and recognized it to be one of the forbidden things of the Sky People. Touching it proved too much; she left it where it lay and simply observed it with great anguish before departing. It served only to remind her of why she had left. Away from the mess of gore she had made, it was easier to taste his trail on the air, but she had wished for some kind of obvious clues. Tracking by scent alone was difficult, and she decided to keep moving whenever she felt fatigued, as every dark cloud was a threat that could do irreparable harm to her chances.
Much of the day's remaining time had been wasted, and night began to fall, but she forced herself past fatigue as she scaled the rocks. Every time she encountered a scrape of his bare skin against a rock, it was like someone had lit a fire in the darkness. She had to double back several times as the scent of him waned. Tracking this way was difficult, but not impossible, and he was so unlike everything else that she didn't feel as panicked as she might have, considering the situation. Even so, the terrain was not forgiving to someone as wounded as she was, and in the darkness, she fumbled for anything to steady herself.
As the moons crawled across the sky, her sharp eyes were able to make out the distant shapes of rocks and a cliff that she had been headed toward without realizing. Nearing it, she paused to sniff a rock, her tongue weary from tasting the air, and realized he had stopped there as well.
Looking back the way she had come, Venka understood him in a way she hadn’t before. He wasn't big or strong, but his mind... That made up for any physical limitation. Another aspect of Davee that she hadn't thought much about was his will—not just to keep going, but to do so on his own terms. How many of her own kind would've backed down if a furious giant screamed at them as she had? Not many. This was how she settled the question of his personhood, his individual worth; he was as Upright as she was and thought, felt, and believed in his own ways just as strongly as she did.
Worth. Venka was beginning to feel guilty about that part.
As she continued to track him, she tried to recall any point where he might have said something contrary to her plans. Did he even want to go to her tribe? Venka considered the question and went back to the moment she rescued him. That act wasn't to take him captive or claim him as a prize; it was genuine concern for his welfare, and it was the right decision to make. Only later did she start to make plans that were for him, not with him, but in the end it didn't matter how much consent he gave or withheld. Venka sighed as she climbed the rocks and paused to consider the thought.
No matter how smart he was, he couldn't think his way out of jaws snapping around his neck. If Venka herself could barely survive the untamed wilds with her agility, strength, and killer instinct, then the diminutive human had little hope by himself. Even so, he was Upright, and he would be a valuable member of the tribe.
Venka reached an edge where the rains had eroded away enough of the hill to cause a collapse. The jagged basin was ringed by a verdant incline with some trees stubbornly growing between the rocky edges. Bathed in the nocturnal light of the brilliant sky, it did look quite beautiful, and she could only imagine how it appeared to him earlier that day. Getting lost up in the hills, in this terrain, would've been easy, and it made sense for him to flee in that direction. She smiled, appreciating his cleverness, but she quickened her pace as light was dimmed by a dark cloud.
After a moment of stumbling in the dark, she finally relaxed as a beam of moonlight illuminated a perfect path.
"Finally," she said to herself, focused on the opening in the rocks and trees. "Some good fortune."
All it took was a single step, and the entire shelf of green collapsed.
Venka had nothing to stop her fall. She cried out and was silenced by the dirt crushing her chest and burying her face as she kicked and thrashed. Her claws reached out and felt nothing and everything, the rolling sensation offset by a constriction against her body as hundreds of sharp and abrasive things nipped and bit her scales, reopening her clay-packed wounds that had barely begun to heal.
And then, the sky reappeared, a glimpse of salvation as she clawed her way to the surface. Weight on her shoulders and back dragged her down, and she fought to free herself from the pack.
A boulder caught her pack, flipping her over it violently. The earth surged over her, burying her in an instant. Venka screamed as she fought the weight, trying to stand as the pack came loose. Something very hard hit her head; her body ceased the struggle as the view of the night sky faded.