“Lies require commitment.”
"Fay, can I get some antlers off that thing?"
Faihrah and Tiru, flushed and aching, had entered the summer camp. After throwing the stag carcass down on a half-log table crafted specially for the skinning and preparation of meat, Faihrah quickly scanned the camp. All was in its place - the tough deer hide tents erected in a perfect 'C' shape, a blazing fire in the centre with various cooking skins and boiling skins hung over it. The smoking tent behind them was empty, which was the precise reason why the two of them had gone hunting. The tent was quite slow to empty, as all the meat was perfectly preserved and meat wasn't extremely prevalent in the clan's diet anyway, but Faihrah took any chance to go hunting. Often she would return to camp with a few fish or a rabbit, and the other camp members would scold her, pointing out for the thousandth time that they had enough meat. It was strange to think that she was the clan's leader, but they were just a big family.
Most of the clan was unrelated, apart from the few cousins and even fewer siblings. Tiru's father and mother parted ways when he was little more than a few springs old, Tiru being taken to the clan by his father. A lot of the clan had a missing parent, and a few had none; the world worked against shapeshifters, as if they were totally unnatural and unwelcome on the earth. It was a hard thing to understand, that most shifters would die by the hand of disease or horrible accident - it had now become so common that many thought it couldn't be a coincidence. Clans were becoming fewer and fewer, their leaders becoming younger through the worry that the previous clan leader wouldn't live to see the next season. The grim truth was that they rarely did.
"Faihrah, talk to me. Are you alright?"
A soft brush of a hand against her arm woke Faihrah out of her trance. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking."
Tiru nodded, concern creasing his brow. "You've been quite out of sorts lately."
"I said I'm fine," she replied, her patience fraying. It had been a long morning, and although the hunt was exciting, she was too tired.
Tiru smirked at her and began the task of skinning the stag that lay limply on the stained skinning table. Faihrah turned away from the relatively quiet hustle and bustle of the camp and whipped out her knife, getting to work. "So... Anything interesting happening around here?" she asked. Tiru laughed at her feeble attempt at making conversation, looking up from the carcass briefly.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
Faihrah shrugged, still working. "I don't know. Something feels off today."
Tiru didn't reply. He had returned to the stag, dark ruffled hair covering his face completely. She couldn't read his eyes, but she sensed he was just as worried as she was. The atmosphere in the forest was tense - and rather humid. Faihrah was flushed pink and sweating by the time they had finished and she had passed the crown of thorny antlers to Rito, the crafting specialist. He accepted them gladly and began shaping various tines into decorative pieces and the main stems into knife handles and other tool parts. Now to the meat, she thought and glanced around to see where Tiru had got to. He was bent over the stream just outside the camp, wet hair clinging to his face as he splashed water to cool down.
Faihrah approached the stream, flinging away her shoes that needed repairing and hesitantly dipping a toe into the foamy water. It was ice cold, colder than the winter's hand. The mountains were the only place where winter was eternal, and the streams that flowed from them were cold all year round. They were a vital part of clan life and because of this, many clan camps were built near rivers and streams. They were also, as it happened, quite useful for cooling off and drenching your friends.
Tiru and Faihrah returned from the stream soaked but oddly energized. Rito laughed at them from a distance, still busy carving the antlers, while Aria fussed over them, wild blonde hair seeming to become more and more so as she patted them down and thrusted dry clothes at them. Tiru attempted to reason with her.
"Aria, we're fine, we needed to cool off-"
"Nonsense! You'll get too cold and make more work for me."
"I'm not changing, and you can't make me."
Aria muttered something about how they were taking so long to prepare the stag that they might as well forget about food tonight. Tiru and Faihrah made their way past the medicine tent that Aria had just disappeared into and returned to the bench. Faihrah had just picked up a sharper knife when she froze. Tiru, in his intimidating white tiger form, was growling at the entrance to the camp. Birds were scattering from the exact spot he was focusing on. A boy, no older or younger than she, tumbled from the dark shadows of the forest, odd clothes stained crimson and breathing heavily.
"Please... They're coming. Don't let them catch me."
This will be the one that gets me my next star, yay! And it probably won't be very long because it seems like Maverick has pointed out all the nitpicks worth pointing out.
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