Jack raised his head and looked around. Across the clearing, the creature leading the group that ambushed him was squaring off across from the one who had hit Jack, and both of them were making a hell of a lot of noise. The leader looked furious, while the other one somehow managed to look smug even while roaring. The other creatures had devolved into two groups that seemed to be supporting one or the other of the belligerents, but as Jack watched, he could see some of the creatures leaving the bigger creature’s group and moving to the other camp. The tribal spectacle clearly had some great significance within the group, but that was irrelevant for Jack. He was pissed about what had happened, and rather than take the opportunity to run away, he let his temper get the better of him.

Climbing back to his feet, Jack stormed over to the group of roaring creatures.

“Hey!” he shouted, glaring at the creature who had hit him. “Where I come from, that’s called a cheap shot, and the first rule of a cheap shot is that if you’re gonna put someone down, they damn well better stay down!”

As soon as Jack spoke, all of the other creatures’ heads swung towards him, their mouths agape. Surprisingly, the one that had hit Jack seemed to panic, but before it could do anything, the leader emitted a roar of triumph, drew its sword, and lopped off the challenger’s head in one perfect stroke.

Jack’s eyes went wide at the sight of the head flying through the air, utterly shocked at the effect of his words. Blood flew from the open wound, and Jack’s heart rate accelerated into a frantic staccato as his memories took him back to another forest on a different world…

“How bad is it, Jack?”

Barty’s words were barely audible over the sound of mortars shredding the trees and sending fountains of dirt and shrapnel through the air.

“MEDIC!” Jack screamed as he held his friend tightly on top of him, trying to keep as much of Barty in the foxhole as possible. He had his hand pressed to his friend’s neck, trying to staunch the relentless flow of blood, but it kept seeping through his fingers no matter how hard he pressed. “Don’t worry, Barty. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Million-dollar wound?” Barty croaked, forcing a smile onto his shattered face. Before Jack could answer, another mortar landed nearby, ripping through the tree above them and showering them in wood chips. Jack blinked away the sawdust and looked down at his friend, taking a moment to evaluate his condition.

Jack slumped back in the dirt, his hand falling away from Barty’s neck. He lay there, artillery obliterating the woods, before eventually patting his friend on the shoulder. A man he’d never have known if it weren’t for the war, but who’d been at his side since the first day of basic.

“War’s over, buddy,” Jack whispered. “War’s over.”

Jack staggered involuntarily and clenched his eyes open and shut. He hadn’t thought about that day in years. Why now? And why with such painful clarity?

A rough fist nudged Jack, and he opened his eyes to see the victorious creature staring at him. The thing grunted and gestured for him to follow. Jack merely glared. The creature grinned and grunted again, pointing in the direction he wanted Jack to walk, but Jack waved him off.

“Can it with the grunts and pretending you’re a bunch of idiots, alright?” he said. “Your crew functions with military precision. You don’t do that without proper language.”

The creature’s eyes widened, and he stared at Jack with an odd expression. There was a round of curious glances between the gathered creatures before the leader finally responded. “This is… unexpected. And a human annoyed at ‘shadow beasts’ for acting like savages? That is new as well.”

“Shadow beasts?” Jack said.

“That is what you humans call us, is it not?”

Jack shrugged. “No idea. What do you call yourself?”

The creature’s head tilted sideways and what passed for eyebrows on its flat face scrunched together. “This may be the first time a human has ever asked. Among our kind, we are called the Chian’dir.”

“Great, then that’s what I’ll call ya. Seems stupid to call you something else,” Jack said. The Chian’dir leader bared his teeth at Jack. For a moment Jack thought he’d offended the thing, but after taking in the rest of the body language he realized it was the Chian’dir equivalent of a grin. “What about you? You got a name?”

“I am Canus,” the large Chian’dir said. “You will come with us. Your fate can no longer be decided by my war party. It is now for the Elders to decide.”

“I’m guessing I don’t have a choice?”

“You do not.”

Jack nodded, then gestured up the tree. “Can I at least get my stuff?”

Canus followed Jack’s gaze but shook his head. “No, but one of the scouts will retrieve your pack. We will take it with us, and the elders can decide if it will be returned to you.”

“Fair enough,” Jack said. It wasn’t like he needed it if they were just going to kill him when they got wherever they were going.

The band of Chian’dir assembled themselves into marching formation while several of the smaller creatures disappeared into the woods to scout the way. As they left the clearing, Jack saw that they were leaving the challenger’s body in the dirt, not even bothering to strip it of supplies.

Jack gestured to the corpse. “What was all that shouting about?”

Canus didn’t even look at the body as they passed it.

“You humans believe us savages,” he said. “That we are a vile species who fight within our ranks, murdering and eating anyone who enters our territory. The elves feel the same as the humans, as do the dwarves and the dragonkin and the beastfolk. All city dwellers—the ‘good’ species, as they view themselves—feel this way. To be fair, many of the other tribal creatures share the sentiment.”

“So basically everyone,” Jack said.

“Yes,” Canus said. “But they are the ones who decide what makes a savage. We merely live as we have lived for thousands of years. Infighting is rare and is bound by rules, limited to matters of hierarchy. Even still, we rarely kill our kind, despite what you saw. However, that was a challenge for dominance of the war party, and to fail is to die.”

“Why’d he do it then?”

“Opportunities are rare. Harix was well-positioned and would have succeeded if you didn’t have a skull of iron.”

“Can’t say I understand what hitting me in the head with a club has to do with that fellow taking your job.”

The Chian’dir stopped, and the whole party stopped with him. The creature looked at Jack, a severe expression on his face.

“You are trouble. We don’t know what you are.”

Jack cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Canus resumed his walk, and the war party continued with him. “When we learned of a human passing through our territory, we set out to find you. It is death for all who enter. It has always been this way, you understand?”

“Not really, but it’s not my place to say. I’m kind of a newcomer around here.”

Canus nodded. “That would explain your presence. Most know not to come here. When they do though, we are not reckless. Some humans have strong skills with weapons; others are talented magic users. They come here to gain experience and increase their Renown, but they believe us savages and do not expect us to attack with patience and strategy.”

“So why didn’t you kill me, then?” Jack said. “With your numbers, you could easily have ambushed me a dozen times over.”

“Because you made yourself extremely inconvenient!” Canus said. He bared his lips back. “Do you see these teeth? Do you see these claws? We are hunters! We are eaters of meat, and all beneath us are but fodder. The forest predators are our brothers, and we do not hunt them, just as they do not hunt us. It is the only law we have when we take our prey. But the humans, the elves, the dwarves? They gnash away at plants and seeds, sitting in their cities. They are no more predator than the bear who dines on berries, filling his belly for the winter so that we can fill ours.”

“Hang on a sec,” Jack said. “You’re saying you eat the people you catch?”

“Of course. One is either predator or prey. There are no others.”

Jack grimaced. “So, you didn’t kill me because…?”

“Because we do not hunt the carnivore,” Canus said, shaking his head. “We waited, expecting you to show yourself as prey. If you had, we could kill you with no concerns. But you didn’t. You never ate the rations in your bag, instead taking fish and setting traps. You refused to eat anything but meat, passing up many plants we know are edible to your kind. What’s more, one of our scouts found the place where you fought another meat-eater, but you followed our custom and refused to kill it. Time and time again, you refused the path of the prey and embraced the way of the hunter.

“I was forced to decide on a path forward. I chose to capture you and bring you to the Elders. I knew others in the party disagreed, Harix chiefly among them, but it was my decision to make. Not his.

“We waited until you put out your fire, expecting you to be vulnerable, but you had taken to the trees, hunting us as we were hunting you. We would have preferred to capture you, but then you attacked our scout and disabled two more of my fighters. Your refusal to kill other predators only made me more certain of my decision, but your attack took the decision out of my hands. By declaring yourself an enemy of the clan, it was my duty as warleader to kill you.”

“And let me guess,” Jack said. “You had to do it in fair combat, but I was unarmed?”

Canus nodded. “Yes. Your refusal to pick up the weapon made the situation complicated, but when you touched it with your foot, Harix chose to interpret it as you being armed. That is why he struck you. The only way a war leader can be deposed is if he fails in his duties and another member of the party is forced to take on the responsibility. It was the war leader’s duty to kill you, and in killing you before I was able, Harix was trying to claim that I was refusing my duty, and he was forced to step in.”

“Seems pretty weak,” Jack noted.

The Chian’dir nodded. “Normally it would be, but many of the party felt my choice to capture you was wrong. That I should have killed you immediately. When that choice led to the injury of three of my war party, some chose to ignore Harix’s paltry adherence to custom. Perhaps the Elders will remind them.” Canus glared at several members of the war party, all of whom scrunched into a low posture and looked away, the hair on the back of their necks rising.

“Had you died,” Canus continued, “I most certainly would have been deposed. But you didn’t.” He grinned. “A war leader must deal with an enemy brutally and quickly. Harix did neither. When you stood up, he went from claiming to be a war leader to interfering with one. Death was the only option.”

“That’s a hell of a price,” Jack said. He hardly agreed with the harsh nature of Chian’dir culture, but he was the interloper here. It wasn’t his place to comment.

“Indeed,” Canus said. “That is why when one challenges, one must succeed. I was not ready to join the elders. Thanks to you, I don’t have to.”

“Seems harsh to kill you,” Jack said, his bushy eyebrows pulling together. “From a tactical standpoint, it makes no sense to eliminate the people with the most experience just because some upstart takes their job.”

This time, Jack’s comment was met with uproarious laughter from the entire party. It was a disturbing sound, not like human laughter. More like a hyena, but you could still make out the mirth in their eyes.

“I would not have been killed,” the large Chian’dir said, his voice still mirthful. “I would have become an elder. I would have gone through the rebirth, then learned the stories, apprenticing until I could take my place among them. Just as when a Scout becomes a Warrior.” He gestured to one of the smaller varieties of Chian’dir, who gave Jack a toothy grin.

“Promotion by deposition?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow.

“It is our way.” Canus gestured ahead. “We will arrive in a couple of days. Until then, you will make camp with us and remain under guard.”

“What happens then?” Jack asked. “To me, I mean.”

The Chian’dir leader shrugged. “You attacked the war party. I will bring you before the Elders for judgment. They will find you guilty, and you will be executed. The only reason I have not done so myself is because your strange behaviour and surprising resiliency will be of interest to them.”

“Huh,” Jack said. “So my foregone execution hinges on me attacking the war party first?”

“It does,” Canus said.

Jack gestured with a thumb at one of the makeshift stretchers being carried by the war party. “In that case, you may want to check your sources.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think I’m nuts? I never attacked you. That guy pushed me out of the tree, so I grabbed him and used him as a crash mat.”

Canus peered intently at Jack, then his glare switched to the stretcher. Striding over to the wounded Chian’dir, Canus’s teeth bared in a snarl. “Is this true? Did you break your warleader’s orders?”

“N-no! The human lies!” stammered the scout.

“And you are willing to go before the Elders?” Canus said. “To drink the sap with those words upon your tongue?”

The smaller Chian’dir’s mouth opened and closed, but he made no sound as he searched for a way to extricate himself from the situation.

“You are damned by your silence,” Canus sneered. “Speak no more words until you appear before the Elders. Pray that you find a more forgiving audience than I.”

The broken Chian’dir merely nodded. Canus returned to Jack’s side and looked at him grimly.

“It seems a grave injustice has been done,” he said. “You have come to our lands and followed our customs yet were met with aggression. I cannot say whether you will live, but there is much to think on.”

Canus stared at Jack. For the first time, Jack saw a flash of hesitation in the huge warleader, but it was gone in an instant.

The next words Canus spoke seemed to have a weight to them, even though they were delivered in the same tone and volume as the rest of their conversation.

“What is your name?” he said.

The question seemed to catch the rest of the Chian’dir off-guard, given their reaction of shocked silence.

“John Milsom, but everyone calls me Jack,” he said. Jack kept an eye on the other Chian’dir to gauge their response, but he needn’t have bothered, as his words were met with a harsh chattering that erupted amongst the war party.

“Mind telling me why my name is such a big deal with your crew?” Jack said.

Canus patted Jack on the shoulder. “Because we do not name our food, Jack. And now you have a name.”