Chapter Three

She could sense the change in the air. The air was moist, smelt of living things and air born silt, of far away places and dry warmth that would soon reach the mountain. And Dekani wasn’t sure what it meant. It was a change. Change always meant something became different. Normal changes, the changing of the weather or seasons didn’t bother the woman as much. They just were, and she didn’t try to think about it. But the other changes, they disturbed the woman.

The other changes brought discord to her life. The other woman leaving was a change, the time a big cat had ripped her leg was a bad change.

But the wind didn’t seem to bring a bad change, just a normal one. It brought with it the hint of summer, of a rich bounty that all animals took advantage of. Dekani and her kind were no different, hunting the fattening animals, finding and eating the fruits and vegetables that grew wild.

But since the change coming seemed normal, Dekani stopped thinking about it. She ignored it, forgot about it. She hadn’t thought it through, about the coming summer, but somehow she had reached the conclusion that the change that would come was a good change, normal.

Walking forward, the woman glanced around. Her eyes were only secondary in this hunt, her ears being more important. The playful sound of cubs at play was louder in one direction, but the scent trail went another way. Pausing when the noises stopped, Dekani frowned. Moving toward the cubs, she dropped down on all fours. Her stomach crimped, and her eyes narrowed.

With a sudden burst of movement and speed, Dekani ripped through the brambles hiding the lynx cubs from sight. They were playing tug of war with the baby Dekani had carried with her, but she didn’t care about that. Because the moment the cubs saw Dekani streaking through the bushes, they ran. Towards safety, towards their den and towards their enraged mother.

Dekani skidded to a stop, turned, and ran. Pausing a moment to pick up the baby cost her, and when she didn’t get to her feet and ran, that cost her more. The lynx mother was on her, biting her shoulder instead of her neck, only because the woman had twisted.

Searing pain, centered on the shoulder, caused Dekani to stumble. When the lynx got close again, she wearily hit the mother on the head with her hand. Without the power normally behind such a blow, Dekani’s hit was more like a caress. But it distressed the mother enough to send the protective lynx back to her cubs, to glare and growl at the woman.

Confused, in pain and still hungry, Dekani picked the baby up by a leg. Her vision swam, and a strange roaring sound in her ears worried her. Jumping at every movement, even if it was caused by a leaf twitching, she struggled away from the lynx den.

Her flesh had been ripped open, and tiny hunks dangled, barely attached to the rest of her flesh only by the skin.

Even while in pain, her senses were enough to get her to a dead tree. With her one good hand, she dug at the rot, creating an opening into the empty heartwood. Squeezing through hurt, the dangling flesh ripped off and her wound flecked with wood.

Her stomach started to growl, and Dekani looked around. Except for the baby, there were only beetles. And she didn’t have the energy to pick them off the wood and eat them. There was, then, only the baby. And Dekani didn’t hesitate, biting and chewing until there was nothing left, not even a bone fragment.

Blood loss was starting to take its toll. Turning her head, the woman licked her shoulder half heartedly. She didn’t have enough energy to try to clean it, or pick out the bits of wood from her shoulder. Eyes dropping, she lay down on her side, curling up in a weary ball.

It was fortunate, in a way, that she had found a tree filled with wood eating beetles. The presence of blood didn’t stop the lumber eaters, and several had actually fallen onto the woman’s back when she forced herself in. While Dekani would only drive splinters deeper, and her nails only spread infection, the beetles were a safer option.

Granted, they didn’t eat everything, but the large chunks were gone when the woman woke up a time later. The time she spent sleeping was unknown to the woman, even though she had slept for several days. Beetles crawled over her, and she plucked a few off and ate them. Blood had dried on her, and was still oozing from the bite.

Getting into a sitting position was hard for the woman. Her stomach was empty, signaling its distress with loud rumbles and painful cramps. A few more bugs were eaten, in hopes of appeasing it, but Dekani tried to keep from eating any more. The taste upset her, if only because she was used to the wild creatures with fat and flesh, not a crunchy shell.

Turning her head again, she started licking her shoulder. The absence of wood didn’t bother her, since she didn’t remember there being any wood there in the first place.

The edges of the wound had a crusty, dried rim, where blood had stopped flowing long enough to start to scab. But just beyond the scabbing, the wound still flowed. Dekani’s administrations broke up the scabs and set the blood to flowing again. It was both a blessing and a curse. In the first place, infection was being flushed out, but Dekani had lost a lot of blood already.

Torn muscle and faint hints of bone showed in places, where the blood had stopped flowing and was starting to congeal into a gel like mush.

Dekani looked at the hole she had made into the tree, and blinked. She was hungry. Food was out there. But so were hunters.

The concentrated scent of blood was so strong on the woman that it was likely that something, a mountain cat, lynx or wolf would catch the scent and start hunting her. For a hunter, that wasn’t a pleasant feeling, even if they couldn’t put the feeling into words, or explain it to themselves.

But Dekani needed to eat. And the worry about the blood wasn’t as important about finding food and water. And she was uncomfortable. She had to do something, she wasn’t clear on it, but something had to be done outside.

Clawing the hole wider, the woman edged through. No wood flakes feel into her wound again, but she did get a coating of wood beetles.

Standing was impossible. Lifting her head, the woman sniffed, but the scent of blood over powered everything.

For the first time in her life, Dekani was helpless.

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She had been lucky. There had been water nearby, which was one of the reasons the mother lynx had chosen the area to birth her kits, far enough away so her den would not flood but close enough so her kits would not be left alone for very long.

Dekani nearly feel into the river. She had placed her weak arm into the water to brace herself, and there had been no bank. She had nearly plunged headfirst into the fast moving stream. Only the death grip on the other bank prevented such a plunge. Moving her wet limb back over the earth, she dug her nails into the wet earth and leaned forward. Her lower half of her face plunged into the water as she sucked as much as possible.

She didn’t bother to look around, or listen for anything. That was where her luck ran out.

It was a lone wolf, thin, weak and hungry. The sight of the woman, her head down and her back vulnerable, was enough. The overpowering scent of blood helped, too, but it was mostly the sense that this creature was weak.

A sudden weight on her back sent Dekani plunging into the river. Her weak fingers were ripped from their hold, but her other hand, stronger and with a better grip, held onto the earth. The painful twisting didn’t mean anything to her, though the river’s grip upon her body tugged her out away from the bank.

The wolf had pushed her in, trying to get at her neck. Dekani knew this, somehow, though she didn’t think about it. Using her weak limb, and also her free one, she grabbed at the coarse fur. Her nails dug through the thinner summer coat, into the flesh below. The wolf howled, and bit, but, already tired, it fell down quickly.

Struggling, she pulled herself out of the river. Her toes with their sharp nails dug into the sides, taking out chunks. But she got out. The wolf was struggling to its feet, and she lunged at it, her fingers unclenching from their death grip. With a quick bite on the wolf’s throat, she ended its life.

Having to eat slowly, due to the pain and her wound, Dekani hurried to finish the wolf off. But sounds in the forest prompted her to lift it by the back, her jaws clenched on the spine. Stumbling, she crawled toward her tree, her den. She would rest there, she would eat the dead wolf, and she would heal. The wording, the thoughts weren’t there, but the planning was.

Tired, she dropped the body and crawled through the hole. Turning around, she pulled the wolf in after her. Collapsing onto her good side, she slept.

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She was unable to do much for a week. By that time, her shoulder was firmly scabbed over. The wolf was gone, nothing left except for the fur which had been pulled off the skin.

Dekani’s energy was returning to her. She was in no way healthy, but she wasn’t bleeding, and the scent of rotting vegetation had replaced the scent of blood. She had been to the river several times, when she felt strong enough, and now she needed to hunt again. She could find something big, maybe another lone wolf, kill it and take it back to her den. Then she would be able to sleep, eat and leave only to relive herself and get water. Her thoughts didn’t follow any structure, there was only the semblance of one, but she was further along in her ways of thinking then she had ever been before. She was starting to plan.

Looking around, the woman listened to the sounds and sniffed the air. Birds chirped in the trees, and the scents of summer were fully on the mountain. The forest was fully clothed in green, and everything was alive.

Animals were plump, eating as much as possible to build up the layer of fat that would keep them alive throughout the winter. Dekani, because of her wound, was at a sudden disadvantage. Her time spent in her den had used up her scant supply of fat. Her cheeks were sunken, and her wrists looked nothing more then sticks. But she still had muscle, strong cords of it on her arms, legs and back, muscles that would help her hunt and catch her prey.

Moving out, the woman took a different way then to the lynx den. Even the barest hint of lynx scent worried the woman, sending her hiding until she was sure it was safe. And that was just to the river. Now that she was hunting, she paused at every hunter’s scent, carefully determining the possible danger. Old scents were ignored, but other scents sent her scurrying to the bushes.

Slowly, she moved through the forest. A rabbit caught her attention, and she chased it into its den. Even though it was only a rabbit, she didn’t reach into the shallow hole. She started to dig instead. The thin roof caved in, and Dekani grabbed and snapped the small rabbit’s neck. Eating it then and there, the woman paused a moment to lick her lips, before moving on.

Then she caught another scent. One that seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

And she didn’t want to. It worried her. The mixed scent of rotting flesh and sky, of scales and a strange, indefinable scent that could only be described as power reminded her of something, before the injury. When something had happened… a good thing that turned into a bad thing.

Dekani crept towards the scent.

One of the clearings of the woods came up faster then the woman had expected.

Two of them. Two of the sky hunters. Dekani shrank down in the grass, but they weren’t hunting. They were making noises like thunder, like the lowest, loudest growls the woman had ever heard.

One was as black as night, and Dekani watched it pace back and forth, tossing the deep growls over its winged shoulders. The other was smaller, but built like the black one, and not so dark. It would respond to the black one with higher, softer growls. It seemed daintier.

A strange scent from the smaller one came to Dekani, and she blinked, sneezing softly. Fortunately the conversation, of sorts, had gotten louder on the black’s part, and more urgent on the smaller one’s part.

Then the black one nuzzled the small one.

Dekani blinked, and furrowed her brows together. The action reminded the woman of something, but she couldn’t place it.

But when the black one moved around to the small one’s back, and spread its wings, she knew.

Running as fast as she could, the woman stumbled at the sudden shrieks. One triumphant, a wild rumbling cry, the other filled with pleasure and giving. The noises, similar to those made by wolves mating, only louder and, if possible, wilder, frightened the woman into running as fast as she could away. Her breath rasped in her throat after a time, and she slowed down. She couldn’t hear the noises, and she didn’t know where her den was.

But she could smell something big, and dead, close by.

Moving in the direction of the dead thing, the woman winced at the snarls and grunts in that direction. Too much like the scene she had fled, she almost turned away. It wasn’t even an instinctual fleeing, or fear. It was all Dekani, her shame at seeing such an act. Some animals she could watch, because they did it where ever. But when it was obvious they wanted privacy, like the two legged ones, or the sky hunters, she ran. She didn’t know why, but she did.

As she entered the space where the carcass lay, the scavengers ducked to the other side. Half eaten already, the large, unfamiliar creature lay splayed out. There didn’t even seem to be a reason for its death, except the broken neck and front legs.

The mountain horse had run away from something, headed up the mountain, into territory too tangled for the large creature. A sudden crevice, hidden by brushes, had nearly felled the giant creature, but it had jumped. And that killed it.

The horse’s landing had been off, and its two front legs had crumpled, broken. Head smashing into the ground, it lay there screaming in pain until something, a large mountain cat, one of the only creatures able to take down such a creature, had broken its neck and started to eat.

Now the carcass fed the young woman and scavengers. Flies buzzed around it, but they were ignored, except to shake now and then. Ribs had been broken off and cracked in two by the horse’s killer, and the innards eaten. But a large amount of flesh still remained.

Using both hands, the woman ripped into the horse’s haunches. Her chin, cheeks and a bit of her nose turned red with blood, as she bit and ripped at the smorgasbord in front of her. Her jaws seemed about to crack, to dislocate at the amount of meat she stuffed in, only for them not to. She seemed about to choke as she swallowed it all without chewing, only she didn’t. Her throat swelled, and the bulge rested above her collar bone as she swallowed air until it went down, but she didn’t choke, her jaws didn’t crack or dislocate, and she displayed a reptilian manner of eating.

When her stomach bulged for the first time in weeks, the woman walked away a distance. Thorn bushes provided a barrier to the possible hunters, but she needent have slept under them. The dead horse was big enough to feed the local scavengers, and the local hunters were gone. Something had scared them off.

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Nakomii stretched. He was full, and he hadn’t even had to eat anything rotten. With a self satisfied upturning of scaled lips, he walked a little faster.

He was actually starting to enjoy his adventure. The large herbivore he’d found had been easy prey, if only because its front legs were broken. He had eaten the best parts, heart, lungs, stomach and liver, before cracking open bones to get at the marrow. Then he’d simply stuffed himself on the less delectable flesh, before moving on. And he was making good time. In a week, he had traveled through the pass, and was now on the other side of the mountain. If only he could fly, he thought. Then he would be able to see the mountain spread below him.


If I can't be a good example, I'll just have to settle for being a horrible warning. ::Shifty Eyes::