A lone, unassuming man was walking along a forest road. The tail end of winter lent a certain crispness to the air, but the man’s garments served to protect him from the worst of it. He smiled as he heard the first birdsong of the morning; it was a joyful song of life. The periodic sound of dripping water, remnants of the rain shower from the night before, carried through the air. These natural sounds of the early morning were joined by the gentle thumping of his boots and staff as they met the ground. The rain had caused him some difficulty in finding rest, and now it had him doing his best to avoid the muddiest sections of the road. He drew a deep breath of the chill air into his lungs and let the petrichor fill him with a familiar warmth. The subtle scents of earth and rain filled his heart with contentment. His subsequent exhalation didn’t even fog heavily, a sure sign that he was now in warmer territory than he had been a few days prior. With the beauty of the surrounding forest impressing itself on him, he could not help but delight in it.
 
    He looked at the trees, most of which were only just beginning to develop the buds of their future leaves. The forests of home were deciduous, unlike the coniferous ones near the northern temple. The evergreens of the northern reaches were impressive, what with their astounding ability to maintain their greenery throughout the bitterly cold winters. Now that he was back in more southern reaches, he was looking forward to when the seasons circled and fall arrived once more. He had sorely missed the changing colours of the leaves. He paused next to one of the trees lining the path. With practiced ease, he leaned his staff into the crook of an arm and peeled a glove from the opposite hand. He ran his hand down the bark of the tree, delighting in the rough, familiar texture. He had spent so long with only pines that he’d nearly forgotten the feeling. The comforting familiarity of such terrain was a welcome balm for his returning homesickness. After enjoying the sensation for a few moments more, he returned his glove to his hand and continued his journey.
 
    His smile faded as he progressed ever further down the familiar trail. Gera, the village that served as his destination, was drawing ever nearer. Though his home village may have been relatively small, encountering absolutely nobody on one of the main roads leading northwest was something of an oddity. There was no special occasion, festival or otherwise, which he could recall that would warrant the current deserted state of the path. Thus far, he had shrugged it off as simple happenstance. However, he was slowly becoming more and more concerned as he traveled ever further without coming across another soul. The leather of his glove produced a slight creak as he tightened his grip on his staff, and he took comfort in the presence of the solid, reliable instrument. It had been a parting gift from one of the instructors who resided in the northern temple. This particular instructor would have already smacked him upside the head for fretting over something that couldn’t be changed. He passively rubbed at a particular spot of his skull that the instructor had favoured when employing that favoured disciplinary tool.
 
    The weight of his pack was becoming uncomfortable, so he rolled his shoulder to shift the strap to a new spot. Though the pack was designed to distribute weight over much of his back, the effect of its weight was still most pronounced where strap met shoulder. He looked behind to ensure that nothing had come loose or fallen from the motion. The pack was securely bundled, but it would be a shame to lose something due to brazen laxity. Fortunately, nothing seemed amiss with the pack, and nothing was lying on the trail. The action had drawn his gaze away from the path, but he still managed to catch a sudden movement in his peripheral vision.
 
    A figure had come out from behind one of the trees nearest the path ahead. He paused in his step and shifted his staff into a more defensive position in front of his torso. He recognised the individual as a lupine member of the anthropomorphic tribe that claimed part of this forest as their own. In spite of the chilly air, it wore nothing other than wrappings of hide around its chest and a loincloth of the same material about its waist. He assumed that its thick, black fur would keep it warm with even less covering than it had. The cold earth seemed to be no bother to its bare foot paws. The physical feature that had most of his attention were its pale amber eyes. They were unwavering in their fixation on him. What had alarmed him, and now had his guard up, was the spear that it loosely gripped in one of its hands.
 
    Confusion mingled with his mounting nervousness. It was unusual to encounter one of them anywhere near this path, yet now there was one no more than eight meters from him. It continued to stare at him as his mind raced for a reason for its presence. Finally, he considered something that turned his blood to ice. If the worst had come to happen, if the pact between the tribe and Gera had been broken, then he was in serious trouble. That agreement was the only thing keeping these isolated roads safe. Without it, the anthro’s spear could be used to some fairly nasty ends. With this possibility in mind, he noted that the anthro was at an excellent range to throw that spear at him, should it wish to harm him. This basic fact made him too wary to commit to any rash action.
 
    His training in the north had left him familiar with their tongue, and he carefully considered his first words. Before he could speak a word, the wolf broke eye contact to throw back its head and howl. All pretense of talk left his mind in an instant. He recognised that sound for what it was: a hunting howl. It was one of many he had heard throughout his youth. His grip on the staff tightened further, his glove creaking in mild protest. He bent his knees and dug the soles of his boots into the moist earth. Finally, he used the accumulated energy to burst into a sprint that took him straight towards the wolf. It snapped its head down as it heard his movement, and an expression of surprise sprang onto its features. In spite of the weight of his pack, he had closed the distance far too swiftly for it to react with a toss of that spear. As he drew near, he readied his staff to strike at the anthro’s left leg. Its expression of surprise was quickly overtaken by one of anger and determination. It corrected its loose stance, and swiftly moved its spear to block the impending strike.
 
    This was the response he had been hoping to bait it into. He jerked the tip of the staff to the ground at the last possible moment. The end dug into the damp earth before meeting firmer soil. Using the staff as both launching point and support, he flung his body into the air. The sudden, unorthodox maneuver caught the anthro off guard, and it could not hope to react quickly enough to correct its block in time. He used the momentum of the maneuver to drive his knee into the wolf’s jaw. His efforts were rewarded with the wet, muffled sound of its jaws clacking together. The stunning impact caused the wolf’s head to jerk upward, and the sudden force sent the anthro crashing to the ground in an ungainly fashion. Anthropomorphic wolves were certainly durable, but not even they could take blows like that and stay standing. His momentum carried him through the air for a brief moment before his feet hit the ground. The weight of his pack, along with the sorry state of the road, caused him to stumble a bit. With some effort, he managed to maintain his footing in spite of it. The instant his feet were settled on the ground, he began to sprint away from the wolf.
 
    He had no intent to follow up on that attack. It had only been done to temporarily disable the wolf. It only needed to stay down long enough for him to put some distance between them. After that infernal howl, its mates would be heading their way. Though he was capable in a fight, taking on a pack of anthros would be suicide. He dipped off of the trail and into the woods. It was not optimal, but the trees would provide cover.  He knew that he would never best the wolf in an open chase. He suspected that he was unlikely to best it in the forest either, but he figured the odds were slightly more favourable amongst the trees. Even through the forest, he knew the general direction of Gera, and so he set himself towards it. If he got close enough, then the anthro would be forced to abandon the chase. There was no way a lone wolf, or even a small pack, would risk aggressively pursuing a human into the territory of the village proper.
 
    The trees swam by as he raced through them as quickly as he could without subjecting himself to excessive risk. He used his staff to deflect or strike away most of the branches and plant life that blocked his route. Any bramble snaring his body would mean his end. His boots rhythmically pounded the earth, the pattern only disrupted by an occasional impact with exposed roots. He drew heavy breaths in the cyclical pattern he had been taught. The pack was a burden, and so he shed it with as much grace as he could. He simply had to hope that the contents were not damaged by the fall. He carefully listened for a pursuer, even as he focused on the forest ahead. He didn’t hear any pursuer, but could not risk a look behind him. He couldn’t afford to divide his attention too much, lest he trip. Such an error would bring his flight to a sudden end, and the wolf would certainly not let such mistakes go unpunished. Of that, he was certain.
 
    He noticed the trees thinning towards a large glade ahead of him and silently cursed. Its presence was not to his favour. Circumventing the glade to preserve his cover might slow him down just enough to make all the difference. He increased his pace as he cleared the treeline and entered the glade proper. Without having to split his attention between the trees and ground, he could afford a glance over his shoulder. What he saw filled him with a fresh rush of fear and adrenaline. The thrice cursed wolf had proved itself to be faster, in both recovery and speed of chase, than he thought it would be. He could see it swiftly moving through the thinning tree line that he himself had passed through mere seconds ago. Never before had he suffered the misfortune of being chased by one, and he cursed himself for underestimating it. Brief consideration was given to facing his pursuer head on, but he decided that he would rather risk continuing his flight. The anthro would be wary of any further tricks, so he would not get the element of surprise again. It would fight defensively until one of its pack mates answered its howl. Against multiple anthros, the odds of coming out on top were not good.
 
    With three quarters of the clearing behind him, he allowed hope to blossom in his chest. The feeling barely finished forming before something pounded into his left shoulder blade. The unexpected, fierce force of the blow knocked him off of his feet. His body carried through the air for a few moments before gravity took its due. He landed on his left side and rolled a short distance before coming to a stop. His staff was wrenched from his grip as he rolled. The dew of the morning instantly dampened his outer garments. Wet soil and grass clung to his face. These sensations were dulled by the disorienting effect of his tumble. He started to push himself off the ground, but his addled state slowed him. Almost immediately, a much heavier object slammed into him before he could properly regain his footing. The impact jolted his senses once more. When they finally stabilised, he found himself face down with an anthro wolf straddling his back and pinning his arms.
 
    It howled once again. It was a spine-chilling sound, made worse by his newfound proximity to its source. He struggled to break the anthro’s hold as he simultaneously fought to gain enough leverage to roll himself over. The hands gripping him may as well have been iron shackles for all the good it served him, and the wolf’s balance on his back was steady. He quickly realised the futility of the struggle and relaxed into his fate. If the gods desired his soul, then they would get it. His breath was still rapid from the chase. The strong exhalations ruffled the grasses in front of his face. With the potential for death at any moment, the details of simple plants were more beautiful and worthwhile than ever before. He rapidly delivered a silent prayer. If he were to die, then he wanted to do so quickly. While he was no coward, he also had no desire for an excruciating death.
 
    “Why did you give up? Another trick?” The questions were accompanied by light pants. “I will bite if you try anything like that again.”
 
    The quick delivery and suddenness of the words caught him off guard. He had been expecting a killing blow, not words. For now, the wolf didn’t seem to be actively trying to kill him, merely pinning him without escalation. Though he was confused, he saw wisdom in heeding the warning and further relaxed, resting the left side of his face on the ground. He looked at his captor out of the corner of his eye. At such a distance, he could tell that the wolf was a female. Her voice had given him the suspicion, but the feminine aspects of her form, concealed by her limited coverings, confirmed it. He also noted that her coat of fur was not entirely black. She had a sort of ashy gray stretch of fur on her front. He had missed it in his first impression of her. The rest was black, as far as he could tell from his position. He noted that those amber eyes of hers were locked on his own right eye. She’d noticed him looking at her.
 
    “Have you never seen a wolf up close before?” She shook her head and sighed. “Do you even understand me?”
 
    He considered playing dumb, but he had a pressing need to ask a single, potentially damning question. He did his best to keep his voice neutral in spite of the primal fear brought on by being pinned by a wolf. “Is the truce broken? Am I to be killed?”
 
    “So, you understand me.” Her tone conveyed surprise. “Rare for humans.”
 
    He kept his answer terse. “Yes, I do. Is it broken? Will I die?”
 
    Her pensive expression betrayed that she was carefully considering her answer. Finally, she responded, “No, the truce is not broken. I will not hurt you unless you give me good reason to.” She shifted her weight around a bit. “You should be thankful that I did not consider that attack to be good reason.”
 
    Her movements had caused his torso to shift slightly. This further ground the grass, dirt, and dew into his surcoat. He wanted to protest, but suppressed the urge on behalf of his better judgment. He figured that the movement was her vengeance for the knee to the jaw. Given that the truce still held, that little surprise attack had probably been highly unwarranted. In contrast to his growing physical discomfort, her response granted him immense mental relief. He gave a quick prayer of thanks to the gods for their mercy. They did not seem to want him in their realm quite yet. If the truce held, then he was unlikely to be killed. However, this brought another question to his mind. “Why hunt me if the truce is not broken?”
 
    She rolled her shoulders, moving his arms a bit in the process. She seemed both amused and slightly annoyed by the question. “You were not being hunted. Why do you think that?”
 
    He narrowed his brow in confusion. “Was that not a hunting howl?”
 
    She considered the question for a moment. “There are many howls for hunting. That was not one of them. That was a howl for finding something. In this case, you.” She seemed amused. “You know the tongue, and yet do not know different howls. This would not have happened if you had a better teacher.”
 
    He grudgingly accepted the criticism. The instructors had taught him many things, but their teachings could not be all encompassing. “Forgive me for my mistake. I acted rashly.”
 
    She seemed to be mollified a bit by the apology. “I will forgive you. As trade, forgive me.”
 
    Trading forgiveness for future forgiveness was something of a custom with the tribes of the area. It was a good system. It helped to maintain peace, and discouraged the fomenting of blood feuds.
 
    He noticed her spear laying in the grass a meter or so away, and came to a sudden realisation. She must have thrown the spear with the butt facing forward. That would explain why the impact had been so potent. That much force spread over a small area would certainly do the job. He imagined the results of being hit with the other end, and the very thought made him grateful for the sore spot on his back. It was better to be a little bruised than quite a bit punctured.
 
    Given that they seemed to be on slightly better terms, and the truce still held, he decided to make an unreasonably optimistic request, “Please get off of me.”
 
    She snorted before replying, “You act nice, but I do not know you. All I know is that you are tricky, fast, and strong. I will not release you until the others get here.” There was a damning finality in her voice. She would not yield on the matter.
 
    He sighed but had expected as much. He had done little to engender any trust with her. It did not seem like he could get her to budge through action nor word. With that thought, he surrendered himself to his current discomfort. He could feel that the morning dew had finally managed to pierce through a few areas not protected by his surcoat. The sun was now clearing the tips of the trees, and the air was slowly beginning to warm. He dryly considered how unexpected the morning’s events had been. He should have been on his merry way to Gera, yet here he was, pinned to the ground by a she-wolf. A little voice nagged him with the fact that he was still alive, and he conceded to it. Things certainly could have gone worse for him. Thoughts of that spear tip briefly passed through his mind once more.
 
    “What is your name?”
 
    The sudden inquiry caught him off guard and broke his train of thought. He briefly hesitated, but decided there was no harm in her knowing his name. “Cain.”
 
    Her ears perked. “I am Ahnja.”
 
    He snorted, disturbing the grass in front of him. “It is nice to know you. I wish our first meeting had been better.”
 
    She simply stared for a moment. “As do I. I think my teeth are still rattling.” She paused for a moment. “That was an impressive trick. I did not expect a human to be aggressive.”
 
    He would have shrugged if he could. “Most probably would not be.”
 
    “Is that so?” She tilted her head. “Then I am glad that I did not let you up. Who knows what other tricks you might have done?”
 
    Before he could respond, he felt her shift as she turned her head to look at something. He turned his head and looked the same way. Two more anthro wolves broke through the tree line. Though it was a fair distance, and his position wasn’t great to begin with, he could still make out a few details. The one on the left had reddish fur while the one on the right bore a brown coat with sandy colouring around the face and limbs. Both wore minimal garments similar to Ahnja’s, though the red one lacked the chest wrappings. He noted that they also bore spears, and the brown coated one seemed to have a knife in a leather scabbard on its right hip.
 
    Ahnja finally got off of him once the other two were close enough for her satisfaction. She took a couple steps back, and he took the opportunity to stand. He used his sleeve to wipe the moist soil and clinging plant life from his face. He then brushed as much of the soil and grass from his surcoat, sleeves, and trousers as he could. He made a mental note that his garments would need a thorough cleaning once the tribe was done with him. Gera would have the supplies that he would need to do so. As he was doing what he could to clean himself, he took the opportunity to subtly examine the two newcomers. Ahnja and the brown coated one merely had a few centimeters on him, while the red one was ever so slightly shorter than himself. He realised that he had made an error in identifying the red one. He had assumed him to be a wolf, but he was actually a fox. The white on the tip of his swaying tail gave his true identity away.
 
    The fox regarded Cain carefully before locking gazes. His ears were pointed in Cain’s direction. He noticed a certain lackadaisical quality in those slitted, brown eyes. The fox never broke this stare as he spoke, “What’ve you caught here? Doesn’t look like-”
 
    “Join your teeth!” Ahnja was quick to cut him off, and he seemed surprised by her intensity, as it caused him to break off his stare in order to look at her. “He speaks our tongue.”
 
    His ears perked in surprise before he resettled in his earlier stoicism. “Spirit’s grace. Should’ve warned us of that first.” His tone and posture betrayed a distinct lack of concern on his end.
 
    Ahnja sniffed in derision, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why yes, you are correct! I should have known that you would not mind your tongue. Was that not something we agreed on?”
 
    The fox didn’t even bother with a response and returned his gaze to Cain’s own. “Say something.”
 
    “Something.” The line was delivered in as flat a tone as the language allowed.
 
    A ghost of a grin passed over the fox’s mouth as he flicked his tail. “Funny.” He finally turned his gaze back to Ahnja. “You didn’t lie. Consider me surprised. Need to speak with you.” He took a few steps away and Ahnja followed. The two began speaking too lowly for Cain to hear.
 
    At first, Cain was confused. Only the brown coated one was close enough to stop him now. His confusion cleared as he realised something obvious, but with ominous implications. Those two trusted her to be able to handle him by herself. He glanced over as he noticed that the brown coated wolf was staring at him with a spark of curiosity in her eyes. She immediately noticed that he had glanced at her and took the opportunity to speak. “You seem none the wiser to me.” She took a step towards him, a comfortable grin dominating her features. She seemed more relaxed than the other two. “Don’t trouble yourself with their squabbling. What is your name?”
 
    He was taken aback by her forward nature, but still responded, “Cain.”
 
    She took another small step closer. She was within arm’s reach now. “Oh, you really do know our tongue.” She seemed excited by this. “My name is Kayah. The one who talks too much is Hevata.” The fox rotated an ear at the sound of his name. “The one who caught you is Ahnja.”
 
    He rubbed at his shoulder. “She already introduced herself after grounding me with a spear.”
 
    Kayah’s grin took on a bit of a sly note for a moment. She seemed slightly excited. “Oh? Did she truly use her spear to ground you?”
 
    Cain shrugged; the significance of the question was lost on him. “Yes.”
 
    Kayah laughed and turned her head to look at Ahnja. “You had to use your spear to catch a lone human!” She lightly chuckled for a moment causing her torso to bounce. “Is one of your legs hurt? Did you eat something bad?” The questions were laden with playful mockery. Ahnja spared her a quick glare before she returned to conversing with Hevata.
 
    Cain noted that, in spite of her relaxed stance and divided attention, Kayah was leaving very few openings for physical attack. He suspected that what few openings he saw were probably traps. Even as she looked away, she would not let him pass the edge of her vision. Her stance was relaxed, but clearly deliberate. She would be able to shift her footing in an instant. Her spear was on her opposite side from him. It was out of his immediate reach, but she’d be able to bring it to bear with a quick shift in footing. She was even positioned in such a way that the sun would not be in her eyes should he attack her. She was clearly prepared, and had the skill to hide that fact behind a seemingly relaxed pose. Had he not been trained, he would never have noticed any of this. He could practically sense her daring him to try something, though nothing in her demeanor betrayed that fact. She was definitely not to be trifled with. Cain decided against accepting her subtle invitation. If they weren’t going to kill him, then there was no need.
 
    The two finished their conversation and returned after a few moments. Hevata’s posture and expression betrayed nothing of what was going on in his head. Ahnja, on the other hand, seemed pleased by whatever conclusion they had come to, if the perking of her ears was to be believed.
 
    Kayah seemed amused by the two of them, as her tail swished to the right periodically. “All is settled?”
 
    Hevata swished his tail, and Ahnja dipped her head. Neither spoke, but their individual affirmations were clear.
 
    “Good.” Kayah turned her gaze to Cain. “Now, we take you to Hatuk.”
 
    Cain almost flinched. The Speaker had mentioned Hatuk during Cain’s brief apprenticeship. He was the chief of the tribe, and had been for quite a while. Cain couldn’t even begin to guess what the chief would want him for.
 
    In an effort to hide his shock, he decided to test something. “May I retrieve my staff and pack?” He gestured towards his staff and in the general direction of his more distant pack.
 
    Ahnja was quick to respond, “I will get your staff and go back for your pack.” She swiftly moved to act on her offer, not waiting for any confirmation from him. She swiftly retrieved both her spear and Cain’s staff before moving off in the direction that she’d chased him from.
 
    They clearly weren’t going to give him space. He’d expected as much. Cain jerked as he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He had been watching Ahnja move away from them, and the contact had caught him by surprise. Kayah seemed amused by his reaction to her touch and dropped her arm to her side. “Relax. Hatuk only wants to speak. I promise that you will not be harmed. May my ancestor’s spirits hide from me should I lie.” The sincerity in her voice and the weight of that vow helped to calm him a little. With how intimidating the situation was, it was nice to have some encouragement even if it technically came from a captor.
 
    Hevata stared at him again. “She’s right about relaxing. Just follow, and don’t go wandering off.” He tapped the haft of his spear against his shoulder. “Retrieving will only be annoying.”
 
    Cain gave a single, small nod. “I’ll follow peacefully.”
 
    Hevata dipped his snout in satisfaction before turning his gaze to a returning Ahnja. She had his pack and staff in one hand, and her spear in the other. She seemed to have little difficulty with the weight of the pack, though Cain did travel light. The monks of the northern temple valued asceticism. This attitude was reflected in the lack of comforts in and on his pack. He had to admit, he was thankful that the return journey was lighter than the journey north. The reduced weight was definitely worth the loss of comforts.
 
    Cain slowly extended an arm. “May I have my things back?”
 
    She stared at him for a moment. “Do not think I have forgotten your trick.” Her grip tightened. “I would rather not find out whether or not you have any more. I will hold onto this until we get back.”
 
    Hevata raised a brow and twitched an ear. “Never thought I’d see the day that you’d fear a human.” Kayah contributed her own short laugh, and Ahnja shot both a glare. She shifted the staff into her spear hand and offered his pack. “You should take this. Make sure that nothing inside was damaged when you dropped it.”
 
    Cain was not bothered by her response. He did not need his staff to walk, so her insistence was of little concern. He grabbed his pack and felt the contents. Nothing felt broken. So few of his things could be damaged that he did not need to open the pack to check. He gestured towards the staff as he shouldered his pack. “Please be careful with it. It was a gift from a teacher.” In spite of his request, he seriously doubted that she could harm it, intentionally or otherwise.
 
    She turned her attention to the staff, a serious expression taking over her features. “I will make sure that it stays safe.” Her gaze shifted to meet Cain’s own, ears pointing forward in a sure sign of full attention.
 
    Cain was, admittedly, a bit taken aback. She favoured a slightly formal variation of the language; the exact wording she’d used was unique to that form. It was a phrase with a great deal of potency behind it. It seemed a bit much, even in relation to stewardship over another’s possession. It puzzled him that she would use such a statement with him, a relative stranger. She was clearly taking the matter seriously, but his staff wasn’t really designed to be a particularly lethal instrument. In the middle of trying to puzzle through the contradiction, he realised that the arm he had gestured with was still hanging in the air. Now noticing the odd look from Ahnja and the amused look from Kayah, he dropped his arm to his side. His face may very well have flushed from embarrassment back in his weaker days. To his present relief, such days were behind him now.
 
    Kayah briefly placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “You are confused. Given time, you’ll figure it out.”
 
    Cain doubted her words, but only nodded as she withdrew her hand from his shoulder. It had taken a good deal of effort to not try to shift away from those clawed digits. While her lupine claws were not as hazardous as a feline’s, he fully understood just what her natural weapons were capable of. The manuscripts had been very clear about that. Even relatively dull claws could leave nasty, potentially fatal, wounds on the neck. All it would take was a single moment, and the damage would be done.
 
    Kayah idly rolled the haft of her spear around her palm. She turned her attention to regard the other two anthros. “If you two don’t care, I’ll lead.” She had a small smile on her face and a gentle sway in her tail as she spoke.
 
    Cain immediately noted the power play of that suggestion. That she desired to take that position gave a very clear signal: she was comfortable enough to have her back to him. He was certain that this was yet another subtle signal from her, given her posture and expression. He had no doubt that any attack from behind would be met with some form of brutal retaliation from a prepared wolfess.
 
    Hevata and Ahnja each nodded. Hevata took up a position on Cain’s left, while Ahnja took the space behind him. With their travel order decided, with no input from him, they started their trek. The odd party exited the clearing and entered the forest proper. Entering into a treeline always gave Cain the impression of being swallowed by the forest. The effect would be more pronounced when the trees regained their foliage and the underbrush grew in. The dash off the trail had been a bit too rushed for the feeling to set in. Now, with this slower pace of entry into the gathered trees, the feeling had freedom to develop.
 
    Cain took a brief moment to observe the angles and lengths of the morning shadows of various trees. He noted that they were moving in a direction away from Gera, but not the complete opposite direction. As their small group progressed, he quickly came to appreciate that his hands weren’t bound. Even with Kayah in front of him, moving through what few vines and brambles grew here would have been annoying without his hands. His pack was also something of a nuisance. He was having to focus to prevent it from snagging on any of the few growths that had persisted through the cold. The last thing he wanted now was the abject humiliation of having the anthros watch him struggle free from some bramble or snare.
 
    Cain noted that the practiced, gentle thuds of his boots against the loam were only slightly louder than the bare footpaws of his traveling companions. He allowed a small smile to form. His labours under the temple instructors were showing their fruit. Within a few moments, he realised that this was his first chance to really observe the way that the anthros moved. He had seen the diagrams during his studies, but seeing those digitigrade legs in action was fascinating. Their foot paws were significantly larger, relative to their form, than those of the animals they borrowed elements from. This was to account for their far larger bulk combined with the fact that they were balancing that weight on two extremities rather than four. The difference in pad size was actually one of the best ways to differentiate anthro tracks from animal tracks. Observing Kayah and Hevata in motion was easy enough, but he dared not risk even glancing back at Ahnja. Such a thing would be too easily noticed. He was keeping his observations subtle, in case one of them happened to observe him in turn. Staring wasn’t rude to them, but they might find it amusing. He’d rather not be seen as amusing, if he could avoid it.
 
    With his curiosity satisfied, for the moment, he turned his attention to the sky. The sun’s position let him know that they were still moving in the same general direction, and gave him a slightly more accurate sense of that direction. The area they were moving through was fairly clear of obstructions, so he took some time to admire the sky as he walked. The vault of the heavens was certainly a wonder, day or night. There were only a few clouds in the sky, and they simply allowed themselves to flow wherever the wind took them. Their fluffy, white bodies neatly contrasted with the light blue of the sky that they occupied. Something about the carelessness of it all was soothing to him. At times, he envied the birds that could get so close to them. To touch them and understand their nature was something of a fantasy that he had carried from youth.
 
    “What’re you looking for?” Hevata’s question drew Cain’s attention back to the earth. An angled ear was the only physical hint of the fox’s slight curiosity.
 
    Cain rolled his shoulders. “Not looking for anything. Admiring the sky.”
 
    Ahnja immediately chimed in, “Are you certain that you are not using the sun to keep track of our direction?” Her tone betrayed that this was more declarative than inquisitive.
 
    Cain turned his head slightly so his voice would more readily reach her. “Only for a moment. Truly was mostly admiring the sky. It’s lovely today.” He turned his head a little further, so that she could see more of his expression. “Don’t worry. Gave my word that I’d behave.”
 
    She sighed and gestured at Hevata with three fingers of the hand holding her spear. “You speak as he does.” A sound of amusement issued from Kayah, though it was muffled by her position and orientation.
 
    Hevata sniffed dismissively. “Nothing wrong with that. Good that he even speaks at all.”
 
    In contrast to Ahnja, Hevata made use of a very informal linguistic style usually reserved for when quick communication was key. In more casual circumstances, it was a little lazy. Cain had developed an inclination towards the style during his learnings. He actually enjoyed the slight challenge of keeping his message clear with such a terse form. His instructors had chided him for this, but they could not simply dismiss his proficiency with each form of the language. So long as that proficiency was there, they’d not regarded his preference as damning.
 
    Before the conversation could continue, they arrived at what Cain recognised as one of the paw worn paths that the tribe had produced through generations of moving through their territory. The loam along the path was more flattened, and signs of undergrowth were limited compared to the surrounding trail. He was thankful for that last fact, as it meant fewer potential snares. At least now he would not have to devote much attention to navigating.
 
    The sun was truly climbing now. When spring finally properly came into its own, little light would pierce through the canopy of the forest. At this time of year, the sunlight had only branches to contend with, and much of it was managing to make it to the forest floor below. Cain allowed himself to revel in the feeling of warm sunshine and cold air creating a delicious contrast of sensations on his exposed face. With the fear of immediate death behind him, he could afford to take a moment to appreciate the things he would have missed had he died. His smile finally returned as he took the chance to enjoy what he could of the situation.
 
    Ahnja’s ears perked as he turned his face such that she could see it from her rearward position. “Oh, I did not think you could smile. I am glad to see that I was wrong.” Surprisingly, the statement was sincere. She was clearly trying to be friendly in order to dissuade him from doing anything rash.
 
    Cain allowed a small trace of the smile to remain on his face. “Truth to the spirits, the whole situation has me nervous. I still do not know what you want from me.”
 
    Her grin diminished, her ears turned back a slight amount, and a look of sympathy passed over her face. She clearly wanted to offer more than mere assurance. Something was keeping her from it. “Hatuk wants to be the one to answer that. He is wise with these things.”
 
    Without bothering to turn his head, Hevata chimed in. “No need to fret. Nobody from the tribe is so foolish as to do anything to you before Hatuk speaks with you.”
 
    “Why would your chieftain want to speak with me?”
 
    Hevata flicked an ear in annoyance, but refused to answer.
 
    The forest around the path began to clear. Cain could see what appeared to be an open meadow ahead. It was significantly larger than the simple clearing that Ahnja had taken him down in. As he drew closer to the edge of this new environment, he could begin to make out what looked to be structures near the center. The open space around the village was mostly filled with short grasses. Several were flowering types that he was familiar with. He could tell that a wide variety of wildflowers would bloom when spring came, and the village would be surrounded by their colours. It would be quite the sight to see, if reality matched the image in his mind’s eye. Breaking up the grasses were mounds dedicated to the agriculture of the tribe. They were empty now, but would soon have the stalk,  climbing vine, and low, wide leaves of the three major plant staples that the tribe grew. Their method of agriculture was rather ingenious. The stalks would produce edible seeds and provide support for the vine. The vine would produce small, sweet fruits and ward off insects. The wide-leaved plants would produce subterranean tubers and their wide leaves would choke out competing weeds. The three seemed almost too well suited to one another to be real.
 
    The structures themselves were primarily wattle and daub buildings with roofing produced by overlapping pieces of bark from a particular tree. The sizes varied slightly, with most being of a size suitable for a small family group. Slightly off center stood a structure a few meters taller than the others. It was of similar construction to the rest, only it was clearly much wider and somewhat taller. If the tomes were to be believed, it was most likely a structure for storage or group meetings.
 
    Cain barely managed to catch a sigh of contentment from Hevata as the group drew near to the village. Cain couldn’t help but find a small bit of humour in that response. For Hevata, this was coming home. For himself, it was a rather unnerving forced march into entirely unfamiliar territory. Cain almost jumped from his skin as Ahnja let out a howl. Even through the rush of fear the sound brought on, it only took him an instant to realise that it was only a return signal. The knowledge did little to calm the response of his heart to a sound that triggered instinctual fear. The howl was met by a return howl emanating from the village.
 
    Hevata turned. “Going to find Anu. You two can get him to Hatuk by yourselves?” The phrase was declarative in structure, but his tone rendered it interrogative.
 
    Kayah turned and stepped closer to the human and fox. “He has been very well behaved thus far.” She extended an arm and rested a hand on Cain’s shoulder. “I don’t imagine that he would cause trouble now.”
 
    Her behaviour was agreeable on the surface, but Cain had no trouble recognising the implication of her words. Causing a scene this close to the village would not end well for him. They probably would not kill him, but he shuddered to think of the many things that could be done to a person without killing them. “I will behave until I’ve spoken to Hatuk, and he has spoken to me.”
 
    Kayah grinned and wagged her tail a few times. “From his own mouth.”
 
    Hevata simply nodded and began walking off towards the collection of huts. The white tip of his tail flicking back and forth as he moved.
 
    Ahnja stepped from behind Cain to his right side, taking the one unoccupied by Kayah. “Follow us. Do not mind the prying eyes. The young will likely be curious, but we will keep them from bothering you.”
 
    Cain dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you. However, the antics of the young will not bother me.” Her claim made sense. The children of Gera were always curious of, and slightly intimidated by, the anthros who had occasionally visited Speaker Corinn. Sometimes, curiosity would overcome caution, and they would approach the strange visitors. It reasonably followed that the anthro children would be similar with a visiting human. The thought of curious, young eyes watching him brought a grin of amusement to his face. He’d be delighted to observe them in turn.
 
    As the three entered into the boundary of the village proper, Cain took the chance to more thoroughly take in the sights, sounds, and scents. Signs of activity and productivity were everywhere. Meats smoking over fires. Furred hides in the middle of treatments intended to render them useful. Small kilns baking unseen clay ceramics. The sound of a knife being honed drew his attention for a moment. An ermine with a white, winter coat fading to brown regarded him with mild curiosity before returning her attention to the blade. With that, he noticed others were regarding him with different levels of reserved curiosity. He paid it little mind. None of them seemed the least bit aggressive or perturbed by his presence. Conversations of varying volume carried through the air. There were too many for his mind to reasonably keep track of, and he had no interest in eavesdropping on individual conversations. Not that his guides were giving him enough time to stop and listen anyway. The scents of the anthros themselves were barely perceptible over the gentle, lingering scents of petrichor and smoke. He reasoned that it was probably just becoming warm enough for them to clean themselves in nearby rivers. Unpleasant memories resurfaced of having to transport and heat water with which to wash himself. They granted him a fleeting sense of empathy.
 
    With his initial curiosity temporarily slaked, his mind turned to study versus practicality. Thinking on the matter, reading and researching had not fully prepared him for the reality of being exposed to this society. Their lifestyle was only marginally more simple than that of his own small home village, but the similarities only served to render the differences that much more distinct. His thoughts and observations were disrupted by a gentle tug on the back of his surcoat. He stopped and turned his head just in time to see Ahnja swat the arm of the youngster who had tugged, sending her scurrying. Kayah and Cain chuckled near simultaneously before Kayah gave a nod and continued guiding him forward.
 
    Ahnja swiveled an ear towards the noise as she positioned herself a little more rearward. “Forgive me. She is more quiet than most, and I did not see her in time. It will not happen again.” Her tail was occasionally flicking to the left in agitation. She was clearly bothered that the youngster had managed to “bother” Cain in spite of her assurances to the contrary.
 
    Cain turned to face her, walking backwards as he spoke. “They do not bother me. We had our own difficulty keeping our young from bothering those of you who visited us.” With that said, he turned on his heel to resume facing forward, but not before catching the odd look Ahnja gave him. He suddenly realised that he had subconsciously slipped into using her style of speech. He couldn’t remember when he’d switched to the more formal form, rather than the simplistic form he'd been using earlier.
 
    "More polite than I thought."
 
    Cain barely caught Ahnja's whispered words, and decided against commenting on them. Mere moments after she'd made that near silent comment, they arrived at a hut slightly larger than those nearby. Kayah held out a hand to stop Cain from proceeding. "I'll let Hevata know that you're here." With that, she set her spear next to the entrance, and she passed through a covering of hide that served as a simple door for the hut's sole ingress. Her tail vanished out of sight as the last of her passed into the hut.
 
    Cain could feel feel the unwelcome return of his nerves. He still had no inkling of a clue as to what Hatuk might desire of him, and that unknown had him unnerved. Cain could not help but quickly glance towards Kayah’s unattended spear. His captors had been fairly polite, excluding being pinned to the ground, but the temptation to arm himself was still there. As fate would have it, he didn't have long to stew on the matter. Kayah's head popped out of the hide barrier. The unexpected silliness of her head poking through, combined with his latent nerves, almost caused him to laugh at the sight. He would have been mortified had that slipped out.
 
    She smoothly finished emerging from the interior of the hut. Her gaze quickly locked on to Ahnja, and she gestured towards the staff that Ahnja still held. "Leave his weapon by the entrance. Hatuk wants to see him immediately. Alone." She gestured towards Cain’s shoulder. “You can leave your pack by the entrance. Nobody will disturb it.”
 
    Cain nodded and deposited his pack next to the entrance. Ahnja slowly leaned his staff against the wall to the opposite side. Her eyes were carefully tracking his movements. Cain was somewhat amused by how nervous she was about what he could do with the simple instrument. In truth, she was right to be nervous. The wood was special; it was only somewhat less hard, and had significantly greater tensile strength, than iron. Even though the staff wasn’t designed to be used as a weapon, it could serve to reach some fairly devastating ends.
 
    Cain took a deep breath before pushing aside the entrance’s covering. Sunlight briefly illuminated the interior as Cain passed through, though it was cut off too quickly for him to take in much detail. Once he was within, his eyes took a few moments to adjust to the faint light provided by crystals suspended from the roof. The wall perimeter was roughly square shaped, and each side was approximately five meters long. The walls themselves were three meters high. The four roof sections sloped upward to meet at a central point roughly six meters above the floor. Each wall had a few etchings of symbols representing various spirits that were significant to the tribe. Simple, well made ceramic bowls occupied a few spaces near the walls. The floor had a number of pelts of varying size for individuals to rest on and sit on.
 
    On a pelt opposite the entrance sat Hatuk. The bear anthro was just as immense as Speaker Corinn had said that he was. Cain figured that, were he to rise, he would stand roughly two hundred and forty centimeters tall at the ears. He was less bulky than a true bear, but his back legs were better formed for bipedal motion. He was a member of one of the few groups of anthros with a naturally plantigrade stance. His fur was a rich chestnut brown. He had calm, expressive eyes that were a lighter shade of brown, and the whites of his eyes were barely visible around the edge of his iris. Cain froze as the large bear anthro observed him in turn. There was a gentle curiosity in his eyes. After a few moments had passed, he gestured towards a pelt to his right. Cain slowly moved to the offered sitting space. He crossed his legs and descended into a sitting position.
 
    “I recognise that symbol on your coverings.” Hatuk’s voice was deep, slow, and strangely soothing. “You must be the apprentice that Shaman Corinn spoke so fondly of. Though, it would seem that you are no longer the fledgling apprentice that he described in our meetings.” He grinned. “I am Hatuk. Please, tell me your name.”
 
    Cain nodded. The symbol on the front of his surcoat was that of the Speakers. It made sense that Hatuk, being the chieftain, would readily recognise it. “My name is Cain. It is good to meet you, Hatuk. Shaman Corinn spoke well of you.” Corinn was not exactly a Shaman, but their language lacked a one-to-one equivalent for the position of Speaker. Shaman was a decent enough approximation.
 
    The anthro’s grin widened a bit. “He and I get along well. Together, maintaining peace between our people is much easier.” He shifted a bit before continuing, “I can see the worry in your eyes, so let me alleviate your fear. You are in no danger here. In fact, you have been brought at your Shaman’s request.”
 
    The confusion on Cain’s face must have been evident, as Hatuk chuckled for a few moments. The shock wore off in a few moments, and Cain could not help but ask, “Did Corinn truly request this?”
 
    “Do not fear. He provided me with irrefutable proof for you.” Hatuk twisted his torso and scooped something up on one of his claws.
 
    Cain instantly recognised the stone talisman dangling from that claw. It bore the same symbol that adorned the front of his surcoat: the combined symbol of the gods and goddesses. While anyone could carve the symbol, only a symbol blessed had the four distinct energies flowing within its etchings. The rich red of blood, the flickering orange of flame, the impenetrable black of the deeps, and the light blue of the sky. Each colour was slowly flowing into the next throughout the sanctified symbol. The effect could not be replicated by any mortal means. Cain’s hand instantly flew to his own chest, where a nearly identical talisman rested on the skin beneath his layers of clothes. A simple leather cord kept it suspended from his neck. Corinn would only have parted with his talisman to represent that his will was with the one holding it.
 
    Hatuk slowly returned the talisman to the ground beside him. “Now that you’ve seen it, I trust that you believe Corinn made this request of me. Yes?”
 
    Cain did not hesitate for even a moment. “Yes, I do. He would only give that to one he trusted. If he trusts you, then so do I.” Cain paused for a brief moment before asking, “Why did Corinn wish me brought to your tribe? Why the violence from the ones seeking me?”
 
    Hatuk sat in silence for a few moments. Neither his expression nor his eyes betrayed what was going on in his head. “Do you mind if I answer out of order?”
 
    Cain made a conceding gesture with his hand. “Not at all. This is your home. You are in your right to not answer at all, should you wish.”
 
    “Corinn did say you were quite polite. Your spirit is one of grace.” He grinned, exposing a little of his white teeth. “Kayah told me that Ahnja chased you down. Did you not receive a letter from Corinn telling you to accompany any tribe member that you came across?”
 
    Cain’s expression briefly took on an edge of uncertainty. “Forgive me, but I did not.” Throughout his training, he’d received a few letters from Corinn and one from his parents. None of them contained anything similar to that. The last letter from Corinn had been him expressing his excitement with the prospect of having another Speaker to share, and eventually take, the mantle.
 
    Hatuk slowly nodded a few times. “It makes sense, and I had expected as much.” He locked eyes with Cain. “I was looking forward to you coming to us in peace and curiosity. I regret that your first encounter with us was one of fear and violence. I hope to remedy this in the near future, or the spirits might take umbrage with me. You were meant to be an honoured guest, after all.”
 
    Cain blinked a few times at the unexpected sentence. “I’m confused.”
 
    Hatuk released a small chuckle. “I answered your first question. Corinn wanted you to live as our guest until he sent for you. I was happy to have you. It would be worthwhile to establish another good relationship with the next human Shaman.”