“… I begin to understand. I believe that, if you can prove that you contain the power of the desperate, you will be able to prove yourself and your people here fahvalo. That… is not easy nor simple.” The grin spread wide across Bloodspeaker Ana’s face and I was again struck by the fact that she was not a human with black skin but a predator in the truest sense, and only in the general shape of a human. The Veushten people, at their palest, were still deeply tanned, and varied from there all the way to the deep, dark brown of fertile soil. The Moonchildren were black, leathery-skinned, had fur running down their spines and foot-long fingers. Their eyes ranged in color, but only among the palest shades. The blue of the sky at noon, the yellow of a full moon just cresting the horizon, the light brown of a burlraiz’s roots… All had the same massive eyes that dominated their faces, and every iris expanded nearly completely to the corner of the eye. The sclera was barely visible under inspection.

But right now, what struck me was none of those things. Instead, it was the shape of Ana’s mouth. The Moonchildren’s faces nearly had snouts, their faces elongated and coming to a near point at the mouth, and when Ana bared her predator’s smile, the four sharp, long canines in her mouth were bared. Each one was 5cm long, and I got the feeling that she could open her mouth wide enough to use them like four little stilettos.

She wasn’t the only predator in the conversation though.

I bared my own teeth in what could generously be called a smile and accurately be called a snarl. “There is, after all, no other choice available to us.”

Bloodpriestess Ana laughed more honestly than I’d heard from the Moonchildren so far. It rang out through the air, and I was somehow reminded of the sound of the call of an owl mixed with the quiet rush of wind through the trees. It wasn’t a beautiful laugh, but an honest one. I couldn’t help but slightly relax my own threatening grin into a gentler, truer smile in response.

“You are right–there is no other option. I will gather those against whom you will struggle to prove yourselves. Prepare.”

I stepped back to my swarm and began to think. I wasn’t sure what to say and was about to start some potentially rousing speech… but couldn’t. Instead, I thought for a moment, then began to speak.

“We have a total of one option and one goal in this fight: win. I don’t care what you do, but win. I’ll be commanding, Took and Sybil will be my seconds. Try not to kill, but if it’s between killing and loss, choose to kill. Everyone, get ready to rip and tear.”

With a nod I gestured towards my swarm before finishing, “Every one of you–Victory by fang and blood!” Around me, I saw the jaws of my fellow keelish set, and everyone around got low to the ground. Those with weapons grasped them tight in their hands and readied themselves.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes, but it felt like this waiting period stretched for an hour. I looked around the clearing and finally took it in. It was maybe 100m across and irregularly shaped. The tactician’s part of my brain noticed three sinkholes, apparently where the damp ground had collapsed in on itself, and I quietly noted them to the keelish around me. I heard them spread the news further while I watched the slowly assembling Moonchildren, their numbers swelling far beyond what I had thought they would be. The sun beat down on us from overhead, and I wondered if the Moonchildren would struggle to see in this light when their eyes were built for darkness. The clearing itself was thickly grassed, but the grasses weren’t so long as to function as a hiding place, at least without a notable divot in the ground like I had already noted to the swarm.

“Took, Sybil. Make everyone find one stone for every hand they have empty. When it begins, we let loose a salvo high.” Both nodded severely, but Took shifted back and forth for a moment, her eyes pleading.

“No, Took. You’re the best option we have right now for my right hand in combat. Take up the position.”

“... I’m not much of a leader.”

“Don’t think I am either. But here we are. Now, go lead. Get the rocks, and lead our swarm to battle.”

Took nodded, turned back to the swarm, and began leading them in collecting stones of the right size and weight. She didn’t see it, but the swarm deferred to her gentle instructions. I commanded and they obeyed, but Took walked and the swarm followed. There was a quiet, absolute quality to her that the swarm followed almost instinctively, and I realized that Rulac had had that same quality.

Rulac. Wisterl.

I hadn’t let myself think about it, but they were two of my friends, and they were dead now. A shuddering breath threatened to catch in my throat, and I felt my throat close. Wisterl, the crazed warmonger. Never again would I be pressed into sparring with her. I couldn’t continue to learn combat from her, and I knew I needed it. I was still just a brute most of the time, and she’d been a killer, graceful and elegant as she danced through the macabre, disgusting dance of death. I knew I was markedly stronger than she was, but I still couldn’t come close to beating her in any fight, much less a fair one. Her yelling at me to come practice, her jibes while sparring, her manic energy at my side, always willing to charge into the front lines… gone forever.

And Rulac… I’d always been a bit wary of him, if I was honest. There was a hidden burning intensity to him. Most of the time he presented himself as a lazy, rutting-obsessed fool, but when he’d thought it necessary, he’d stepped into the roles required of him: the First of the Alqat, Beta of the swarm, and warrior of vengeance against the Wolfstags. When he’d shifted into those roles, his demeanor had changed and he had emanated a dangerous feel. But when he wasn’t in those situations, he was crass and funny, supportive and light-hearted… my friend. I hadn’t let myself really think about it, but he was probably my only other friend than Oncli, and he’d died when I was a week old.

And they’d both rushed to their deaths for me.

If I’d been human, maybe I’d have wept and gathered courage in thinking of the sacrifice of my friends… but I hadn’t been human for a while now.

Instead, I found myself seething with uncontained rage. These Dulvroc begotten kreerlk had taken them from me. Now, the Moonchildren decided to levy a “test” on me to see if the swarm was allowed to live. A neutral part of me recognized that the proud khatif part of me was shouting to be heard within me, and I was letting it dictate my emotions. I decided to feed it, thinking of every injustice that had ever been done to me, every time I’d been looked down on, every loss I’d sustained, and more. Before long, I was pacing, not nervously, but with excess energy, and my swarm was picking up on my energy. They swarmed together and were forced out by the sheer inertia of every other body pressing together, moshing all together.

Sybil’s voice in my ear almost didn’t register initially, but finally it clicked.

“Ashlani… I have an idea.”

I nodded, and found myself grinning wide as she began to detail her insane plan.