Tarhruki Claw

        The Tathruki male stretched out his long front claws and dug them into the soft soil—gaining leverage as he uncurled from his sleeping position—his long back twisting and popping as he did so. He turned and looked back at his mate, her whiskers twitching in her sleep as she dreamed.
         Embers from last night’s fire still glowed dully under a layer of ash and dirt. He knew that a Kalian would never be able to see the light but his Tathruki eyes made him aware of things that no other creature would be.
         He walked over to where the firepit lay and squatted down as he began to blow slowly on the embers—bringing them back to life as he lay some kindling down and listened as the fire cackled and breathed its way back to life. He gazed into the fire—he had always enjoyed watching as the flames danced within the wood. There we times he thought that perhaps they were sentient—that he had brought them into being with his breath. It must have been how Tath felt when he had raised the Tathruki from simple animals.
         Finally, he had enough of his daydreams and enjoying the warmth. He stood and grabbed a small copper pot filled with last night’s dew and placed it over the fire. He drew some dried Laki leaves out of a pouch and placed them in the boiling water. Laki leaves acted as a stimulant to the Tathruki and he absolutely adored them. There were Tathruki who preferred to stay free of the slightly addictive leaves, but not he; he was anything but a morning creature and was fairly useless until his first cup of lak.
         “Ra,” his mate called from her still supine position in the grove he had cleared. “Is the lak almost prepared.”
         “Almost, my Nakari.” He smiled as he turned back to look at her. “How long have you been awake?”
         “Since you climbed out of bed.” She replied with a purr.
         Ra shook his head as he poured the lak into two paw-made clay cups before pushing one toward Nakari. She leaned up lazily on her elbow and began to lap at the lak without picking up the cup in her paw.
         Ra huffed as he considered the image before him, holding his own cup of lak in his hand and taking small sips. “Lazy. Reverting back to your bestial ways just so you don’t have to sit up.” 
         Nakrai pushed herself up and took the cup in paw. “Happy now?”
         Ra just shook his head as he turned to the pack and dug out some things for breakfast. He pulled out a larger pot, and filled it with water. As he put the water on to boil, he gathered the rest of the supplies from the pack to make breakfast porridge for Nakrai and he.
         Later on in the day, he would hunt in the traditional way for their dinner. Hopefully he would be able to bring down a larger buck for them to feast on. The meat would be a delicious treat and a departure from the farm raised meat they had become used to living in the city.
         Ra’s claws flexed as he thought of the hunt and the smell of fresh blood.
         Nakri saw his expression and smiled. “Already thinking about the hunt for tonight, my love?”
         Ra smiled and nodded. “It’s been so long since I have been able to go out into the wild on my own and bring down a worthy prey. I am afraid that living in the city among the Kalians has made the Tathruki soft and docile.”
         Nakri took a sip of her own lak and leaned back against the trunk of a knyle tree. “You know, at least we are Manthenians. Had we lived anywhere else, we would be little more than pack animals.”
         Ra grunted and nodded his agreement. “So many of our brethren are forced to bear the yolk of slavery for being different than the Kalian.” He paused and took a sip before continuing. “No, slavery is too kind of a word for what the Dolryn do to our people. They view us as animals that can be domesticated. Like we are some sort of intelligent pet.” The fur on the back of Ra’s neck began to rise and his ears flattened to the side of his head.
         Nakri rose and walked over to Ra and put a paw on his shoulder. “Easy my heartsong.” Ra’s fur settled a bit. “There is no reason to worry about things that we cannot help. Worry is a poison to the soul. You know this.”
         Ra nodded his agreement. He stood drained the rest of his lak and combed down the rest of his fur. “I need to begin getting ready for the hunt. Do you need anything from me?”
         Nakri shook her head as she watched her mate amusedly as he went from full of rage, to calm in the blink of an eye. It took quite a bit to get her mate in a rage and when he did there were few who could stand against him. But once he saw the error of his ways, he was able to remarkably get his anger under control swiftly.
         Ra began to remove all the trappings of a city culture until he was sitting cross-legged with his back against the tree wearing nothing but a loin-cloth and a traditional Tathruki necklace, a bone carved symbol of Al’fayr, god of the Hunter and king of the Tathruki pantheon. His eyes closed and he began hum, almost purr, softly.
         Nakri smiled to herself and stood while Ra prayed to Al’fayr for a clean and prosperous hunt. She turned to the bowls of porridge and cups of lak and gathered them to clean them in the stream nearby.

         Crown Prince Jaken pointed slowly to his cousin and mouthed the word “eight” and then pointed towards the clearing just ahead in the forest.
         Jaken’s older cousin Ryln Harlon, Duke of Chrans, slowly crept into a position where he would be able to see into the clearing. He had taught his younger cousin everything he knew about hunting but today he was letting the Prince take the lead.
         Harlon pushed aside the branch of a low tree ever so slowly and gazed into the clearing. A young buck with around eight antlers stood grazing in the new morning light. The wind was towards them so the buck did not smell them yet. Despite the buck’s obvious youth, he was one of the biggest bucks that had seen on their hunting trip so far.
         He crawled over to where Jaken lay crouched. “That buck looks like the best one that we have seen this whole trip.” He paused to spit out some of the juice from the slightly narcotic nira leaves he was chewing on. “What do you think?”
         “I agree. I think we should try and take it.”
         Harlon nodded his agreement. “You take the lead then. This is your show after all.”
         Jaken slowly crawled forward rather than acknowledge and retived his bow. He removed an arrow from the quiver lying next to him and slowly rose to one knee. He pulled the arrow back towards his face and held the bow-sting taunt. Jaken inhaled slowly and deeply and then exhaled slowly preparing to loose the arrow. Just as he was about to release the tension, however, a male Tathruki burst from the cover on the other side of the clearing.
         The Tathruki had the markings of a warrior and his face was drawn up in a bestial snarl. The buck suddenly sprang into action running the other way, but the Tathruki already had the jump on the prey animal and it leaped in the air, claws flashing in the air. Claws raked down the side of the buck as the Tathruki landed on its back and both went down in a tumble of leaves.
         Suddenly, a sharp hiss and cry pierced the morning air and the Tahruki’s head snapped up, its prey forgotten. He paused a moment, ears twitching before he turned and ran the way he had come.
         Jaken stood up letting the bow hang at his side and turned to Harlon who’s face wore as incredulous a look as Jaken felt his must. Suddenly, the same strange cry pierced the air for a second time.
         “That sounds a lot like a female Tathruki.” Jaken commented.
         “Probably that warrior’s mate.”
         Jaken looked at Harlon. “We need to go check this out. Those are technically my subjects.”
         Harlon nodded.
         Jaken turned without another word and ran into the clearing and through the forest the same way the Tathruki had run. In fact, tracking him was not going to be all the difficult as the male had been in such a hurry to get to his mate that he had left a trail a child would be able to follow.
         Suddenly, sounds of struggle and snarls sounded just ahead. Jaken and Harlon burst into another clearing by a stream.
         Five men surrounded a crouched and hissing female Tathruki. The fur around her left arm was bloody. Her claws swiped out at the pikes that prodded at her, but they were becoming sluggish with each swipe as the narcotic slavers coated their pikes with began to put the Tathruki to sleep.
Meanwhile her mate, the Tathruki from the clearing, was trying to break through another line of six men. It appeared he had already taken out four others before those six were able to form a pike line. Three of the men held weighted nets, but the Tathruki’s claws would make short work of those nets if they were just thrown over them.
         Jaken looked over at Harlon and mouthed,”Barin”. 
         Harlon nodded back towards Jaken. The both notched arrows and let fly at two of the men who had surrounded the nearly unconscious Tathruki female.
         Two of the slavers dropped to the ground, arrows sprouting from their necks. Their three companions spun, and charged at the brush where Harlon and Jaken stood. Jaken dropped his bow and drew the curved and sharp brush-sword from behind his back. It was not a sword designed for fighting, it was primarily used to hack and clear brush or quarter a animal, but it would do the trick in a pinch. Especially in the hands of someone as skilled as Jaken with any kind of weapon.
         Harlon’s arrow struck another of the slavers before he too was forced to throw his bow down and draw his brush-sword.
         Jaken watched as the male Tathruki succumbed to a poisoned cut on his chest and stumbled to the ground. One of the slavers threw a net over the Tathruki, who was too weak to slash at the net now.
         Suddenly, Jaken and Harlon found themselves facing close to nine men, rather than four. Jaken turned to Harlon, signaling that he should stay back behind and then took a deep breath.
         Opening himself up to the k’kil was always a marvelous, euphoric feeling. Jaken felt as if he was one with the universe, like he had lived without the k’kil as with a hole in his middle and now that hole had been filled. When he opened his eyes, it was like seeing for the first time. He finally understood all that was necessary in the universe.
         Jaken raised his hand towards the approaching slavers intending to hit them with a blast that would stagger them back, allowing Howsman and he to move in and incapacitate them, but hopefully not kill them. He had some questions he wanted to ask them.
         Jaken felt the rising pressure as he prepared to fire the burst of wind from his hand. Time seemed to slow as the k’kil filled his very being. He watched as everything came into focus, as if for the first time and the last time. His skin began to glow with the glory of it all and only a very tiny part of Jaken’s mind, set of a warning alarm that he had gone too far.
         Everything slowed to a crawl and Jaken watched with a part of his mind as the land in front of his hands began to crumble away. He hadn’t meant for the blast to be this powerful, he had just meant to push them back and somehow he had lost complete control of the k’kil.
His last thought was one of horror as the wall of wind blasted into the first slaver, tearing the flesh from his bones. And then Jaken remembered nothing.