There was a hint of humor in her voice as she spoke, And I began to follow Wisterl as I responded. “What is there to show me?”

She flicked her tail as a shrug. “You’ll see soon. It’ll help, I promise.” Again, there was the faintest suggestion of a laugh in what she said, somehow. Now that I was as tall as I was, nearly four feet, I realized that Wisterl was just a hair smaller than Redael. A bit shorter, a bit thinner, a bit… less. Still, she radiated the same danger as Rulac and Redael, a willingness to work violence, the barely constrained desire to dominate. Except maybe even more, ever tendon and muscle seemed constantly straining to explode into action.

“Alright then.” I said, then shifted the subject. “It has been a while since we last saw you. Was there any reason why you were directing our first hunt?”

She looked over her shoulder at me. “Do you think there was?”

“Of course. You seem much stronger and thus, superior to many of the others. There must have been some reason for you to be there.”

“But couldn’t I just want to check in on my young?”

“You laid the eggs of some of my pack?“

She flicked her tail, approximating a shrug. “Do you know that? And does it matter?”

“But… I asked you why you were there. I don’t really care if some of my pack are your children.”

“Yes, there was a reason. You’ll learn later why Rulac and I were sent to observe your brood at some point.”

I sighed, confused by the flighty nature of our conversation and resumed following Wisterl silently. She did not care to indulge my curiosity, so I refused to engage. Wisterl didn’t care about my sullen sudden silence, and turned to Foire as she began to walk backward. I’d tried that before, and I recognized just how difficult it was with our heavy tails and feet designed for swift forward movement.

“You, little guy. What’s your name? Why are you with the Alpha now?”

Foire looked to me, seeming to ask if he could answer the question. I flared my frills in response and he turned back to Wisterl. “Hunting.” His tone was curt and uncaring.

“Oho! Feisty, I see. Why are you going with the hunt when you’re so small? Are you the bait?”

Foire locked eyes with Wisterl, surprising me. His words absolutely floored me: “If I need to be.” Again, his tone was serious, as always, and he deliberately cut off any additional conversation options. Wisterl cocked her head, intrigued, then nodded in seeming respect.

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“And you? Are you his plaything? No shame in it.” Wisterl jumped to Shemira after Foire’s words.

“Not yet, unfortunately. Maybe while we’re out?” Shemira began to lean in towards me as she spoke, but a single threatening grind of my teeth had her leaning away. “Not this time, I suppose. I can still hope, right?”

“Of course you can! You’ll be turning heads and drawing tails your whole life, I can guarantee it. Maybe Ashy here won’t be enough for you soon.” I heard my fangs grinding against each other at the idiotic nickname she’d come up with. I didn’t much care about how she and the rest had learned my name, but I was still curious. Did they all talk about us? I found the thought hard to believe, regardless of our relative prowess as hatchlings.

“Well, here we are.” Wisterl’s voice tore me from my sullen silence. We were stood in a particularly large pathway through the den, large enough for the terrorbird to be easily dragged through.

“And here is?”

“There were a couple of the scouts that saw what you had to do to try to get your latest hunt into the den. After we all were done laughing, we figured you might as well see a better way to get your extras back home, since you’re able to hunt things that need this.” Wisterl jogged up the slope and I realized that we were about to exit the den into the evening light. I shifted my perception, letting the light filter through and begin to paint the picture.

We came up deep within the root complex of a massive burlraiz, the exit appearing within a seemingly natural crevice of the roots. The hole was somehow camouflaged and nearly impossible to see without knowing it was there, but it was nearly seven feet across in every direction. Any large prey brought here could easily be carried down into the den proper, without needing to butcher anything. Beyond that, I realized that I recognized the area. This new hole was maybe a quarter of a mile from the exit we had always used.

“So there were some keelish that watched me try to cut up those birds for all that time and never thought to tell me how easily I could have brought it down into the den?”

“And keep you from that fun lesson? Never!” Wisterl’s voice dripped with mock concern, and she couldn’t stop the giggle. Involuntarily, I felt and heard a growl begin to bubble within my throat. Before I could begin to realize it, I was whipped from my feet and into the ground. The air whooshed from my lungs as I smashed into a root and began gasping in pain. Wisterl’s foot remained on my chest as her voice transitioned to a throaty, dangerous purr.

“No no no, you don’t bare your fangs at me. You’re just a whelp, a pup. You try something like this with me, and you get hurt. Clear?”

I gasped out a pained “Yes”, and Wisterl sent me sprawling with a vicious kick to my ribs. I swore I felt something crack and I gasped out a cry of pain as I tried to gather myself. Before I could give any warning or caution, I saw Wisterl do the same thing to Foire that she’d done to me. At least, when she did it to him, I could see what she did. Her tail was somehow much more flexible than any other keelish I knew of, and it smashed into the back of his knees as Foire tried to charge her. As his legs crumpled beneath him, Wisterl pulled one of his arms down and pushed up on the opposite shoulder.

Almost like magic, as if he wanted to do so, Foire fell to his side on the ground. Without another word, Wisterl sent another blistering kick into his chest and with a choking cry of pain, Foire was flying even further than me. Shemira immediately stepped back, every inch of her trying to communicate submission and pacifism.

“I’m sorry Wisterl.” The words choked me coming out, but I forced them out nonetheless. “I would never try to challenge you.”

“Good. I’ve shown you what you needed to see. Good hunting.” With those words and my ribs aching, Wisterl was gone.