My new packmates didn’t get any farther away from me than maybe three steps as we exited the arena. I noted the pride in their bearings, and a part of me laughed at them taking pride in striking down a single Toothy Bullfrog when we’d outnumbered it six to one. The rest of me realized that I too was pretty proud of our achievement. What did it matter if we outnumbered it? Keelish are social creatures and predators, anyway!

“Good… leader.” My sub-leader spoke up as he walked in step with me. I recognized the opportunity to speak up and communicate further with my pack, but was frustrated by my inability to communicate openly. Swallowing down my frustration, inability, and excuses, I spoke up as we settled into a position where we could watch the next hunt begin.

“Good… hunt. Good… follow.” My pack looked at me, curious and respectful. I couldn’t deny the small glow of pleasure that sprung up in me when I saw creatures willingly following and listening to my instructions, hanging on my words. Different from the politics, maneuvers, and general unpleasantness that was humanity’s social and political hierarchy. Here, as a keelish, I only gave a good command and was personally strong, so I led. Somewhat similar to my mother, I supposed.

“You… strong?” I asked the large female, and she pulled her head back and cocked it in confusion. Stars forsake me, how could I ask if she was ok? “Need… rest? Can… hunt?” Seemingly panicked, the female flared her frills in agreement with the second question, and I could hear in her throat as she desperately tried to speak. Even after waiting for a moment, she was unable to force any intelligible sounds from her throat. I was, however, able to understand what she was seemingly trying to communicate.

“You… still… follow. Still… strong.”

Again, frantic flaring of her frills. Reading the body language, the other four also seemed to worry about me casting them out and were trying to illustrate with their postures and body language that they were as tough and fierce as ever. Again, I felt myself taking pride in the trust extended to me by my broodmates, the new members of my pack. The small female especially was posturing, her obviously showy pose making me think of the frog that had swelled itself up in size to try to intimidate us before we’d so handily hunted it. Without conscious thought, a low, constant clicking began to come out of my throat as a part of me I didn’t have as a human communicated the pride and pleasure I felt in having successfully conducted a hunt.

Looking at my five followers, I realized I couldn’t really think of them as “sub-leader”, “large female”, “small female”, “other male number one”, and “other male number two”. I needed to learn their names.

“What… your… name?” I looked at my sub-leader.

He cocked his head. “What… name?”

I finally consciously realized that none of us had ever been named. My name had been given to me by my mother, and I only thought of it as mine since I remembered it from my previous life. None of these hatchlings had been given any individual attention by an adult in the swarm, and I wasn’t even sure if they understood the concept of a name. My sub-leader’s response answered that question well enough.

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“What… I… call… you.”

“What… what…” His mind seemed to struggle to understand the distinction.

“I… Ash…” I almost gave up and decided to go by Ash, simply to save myself the trouble, but remembering the last thing Viilor had said to me before murdering me by proxy, I reset myself and tried again.

“My… name… Ashlani.”

I could see all five of my subordinates, members of my pack, begin to stumble over themselves trying to figure out how to make that noise come out of their throats. It was endearing to see them, even when obviously incapable, struggle and work hard to say something to possibly get into my good graces. Unsurprisingly, my sub-leader was the first to make any headway, though he was still unable to fully pronounce my name.

“You… have… name?”

He clacked his teeth together for an emphatic no. “You… give… me?” I could see the rest of the pack perk up and obviously hope for an affirmative answer from me, and then for me to give them names as well.

Slowly, I flared my frills in assent. This one… male, my first follower, so number one. He is my sub-leader. One… leader… Onli, maybe?

“Oncli.” Immediately, my foreign throat and mouth messed up in pronouncing his name. I was about to correct myself when I heard him speak up.

“Oncli. My… name… Oncli.” The low clicking that I’d just recently been making to show my happiness began to wash over me as Oncli repeated his name to himself. As he stepped back, seemingly entranced by his newfound title, the other four pushed their way toward me, the large female dominating the center as she coughed lightly for attention. She reminded me of my old pet hultzi, like a large colorful bird, the way he would beg for treats. Absentmindedly, I thought for names for the others. Quickly, I settled on simple names for each.

“Took,” the large female, for her number two spot.

“Treel,” Took’s little female hanger-on.

“Foire,” the first of the two males to follow me.

“Vefir,” the final male that had followed me.

The four that I’d named each squatted nearby, their jaws working carefully, trying to pronounce their names. They could understand my simple commands and sentences, but they still couldn’t adequately form words of their own. Pleased little clicks began to sound from my throat again, little laughs of pleasure. Again, they reminded me of my hultzi. He had been a good pet: cute, low maintenance, and fun to be around. But that wasn’t the only or even the primary reason that I had kept him around.

I wasn’t too sure that I needed these new packmates to be able to communicate clearly quite yet anyways. After all, while I did appreciate their appreciation, that wasn’t what I needed from these new subordinates. I hadn’t ever had a reason to name the hultzi, since while I’d appreciated his company, he wasn’t a person. He was a pet, and he had a use–he was a hunting aid. Hultzis’ ability to fly while still being somewhat massive themselves led to being great spotters and initiators in a hunt. Just like I’d trained that hultzi, I would train these hatchlings.

What I needed from these newly named hatchlings was absolute obedience, ferocity, and the ability to kill whatever I told them to. Anything else was, at best, a bonus. They may end up becoming companions, but that couldn’t detract from what my focus needed to be. I couldn’t take my eyes from my goal–to grow strong enough that nobody could betray me again, and, eventually, take my revenge on Viilor.

To that goal, I finally decided to acknowledge the [System] notification flashing in the corner of my eye.

[[Growth achieved. Status updated.]

[Evolutionary requirement for Young Keelish Alpha: Acquire 10 followers. Progress: 5/10]