Silverleaf Forest near Midway; Ling Tribe: Last'ts
A wizened, wolfish looking man with a fierce expression paced up and down a set route. He was currently overseeing the village youths in their training. Thirteen yearlings were gathered before him in various states of disarray and expressions of exhaustion.
"Are you tired?" He asks while giving them a critical eye.
"No!" They shouted.. Well most of them.
"Yes!" a sole voice chimed.
The other twelve all let out a soft groan, or mixtures of displeased noises while feeding dirty looks at the newbie. They were forbidden from speaking unless spoken to by an adult and thus could not properly warn new arrivals how to behave.
A toothy grin stretched across the wolfish man's face revealing abnormally sharp teeth with extended canines, not even attempting to intimidate, yet the children all went silent, they knew the meaning of that smile. Sharp yellow eyes focus on the yearling that spoke differently. "Come here, yearling." He commanded.
Hesitantly the yearling crawled out from the crowd. All yearlings looked the same, for the most part, they had yet to reach the age where their biology would naturally pick a gender that would influence their future appearance. However that is not to say they were not easy to tell apart at the same time some were covered in a fine layer of fur and shared more animal features. This particular yearling had no fur yet and pale, blue skin although it's cheeks were slowly turning purple as it was embarrassed. Two tiny bony nubs poked from it's forehead and a tail peaked out swishing back and forth nervously hinting at it's bloodline.
For a moment the wolfish man looked surprised. "A Darkling?" he murmured to himself before shrugging, it didn't really matter but it was exceptionally rare to find someone who inherited blood from an outsider, or what the other races call 'Oni' however for the Lings it was considered a great boon as it would allow them to cultivate faster. It would explain why it was so tired however Darklings started training at the age of eight because their bodies can handle more stress, the rest of the yearlings were all ten and would begin showing signs of gender inheritance in a year or two allowing them to grow hair if they had not already inherited it from their bloodline.
"Defend yourself!" He cried abruptly before leaping forward, holding his strength back he began to attack the yearling. Simple attacks aiming to maximize pain but not damage the actual body, it involved a lot of openhanded strikes.
Eyes widening the Darkling began to frantically attempt to defend itself, trying to bat the large hands away or soften their blow but sadly it was of little use it's uncoordinated body and limited strength was easily circumvented. Loud slaps filled the air as purple welts began to appear all over, this continued for ten minutes as everyone watched with grimaces until the Darkling was laying on the ground, utterly devoid of energy.
"You lied, yearling. If you were tired you would not have had the energy to defend yourself." He spoke loudly, to everyone but mostly the downed darkling. "In this world, we Ling have no magic save that of the energy within our own bodies. We hunt with our bodies, build with our bodies and survive with our bodies. The path of cultivation is not easy it is something you must put forth your entire body and will into. If you lie to me then you have already lied to yourself, even now you have the energy to crawl.." Giving a glower to the rest of the group. "Since you lasted ten minutes, you are fortunate you will all run ten laps around the village, you have ten minutes a lap."
Everyone's eyes lit up with excitement, it only took eight minutes to run around the village! They set off almost at once before a bark caused them to stop.
"I said all of you" He pointed to the exhausted Darkling who could barely climb to it's feet.
Another chorus of groans escaped them as they quickly gathered around the Darkling, helping it to it's feet and supporting it as they ran. With the extra weight they would have to transfer from person to person and keep together or they would never make it in time, likely they wouldn't make it regardless and be forced through more grueling training.
A voice followed them as they set off. "In this world there are only two people you can count on. Yourself and your people. If we do not stick together we will die alone, etch your brothers and sisters into your heart for they will die for you in the future. If you do not want this to happen then you must grow stronger individually, so that when you come together even mystical force cannot stop you."
The voice faded away as the distance grew. The Darkling was being supported by two other yearlings one was older than everyone else and had a head full of feathers that shot back horizontally along its head, they were a mixture of dark hues that gave an intimidating look. Most likely it shared the blood of a Many-Colored Roc which enabled the yearling access to an astonishing amount of stamina, allowing it to potentially run for almost an entire day. The second yearling was covered in a very fine layer of fur that changed color to it's surroundings giving it a blurry outline as it ran and depending on which direction you're looking at it from it would appear that the Darkling was only carried by a single person and simply had their arm stretched out. Most likely it shared blood with a Cheshire Cat.
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Still reeling from the beating it stumbled along wearily, the first few laps it was supported by the first two before being passed off to in turn to other pairs and by the time the laps were finished the Darkling could stand on its own again. Standing with the others at the training square it noticed the wolfish man kept starring at it, so nervous at being under scrutiny it jumped when the instructor barked again.
"That is it for me today, you will all attend Elder Coin for lessons after you eat. Take the time you have before lessons to introduce yourselves." With this the wolfish man turned and left, leaving the yearlings to themselves.
It watched the instructor leave before letting out a sigh of relief, the beating it received was not kind at all and the bruises would not likely heal for a few days. While in idle contemplation it realized a silence had grown and looking around it noticed a circle had formed and it was surrounded before someone stepped forward. It was the Rocling. Almost instinctively they began circling one another in the center of the ring looking each other up and down as if sizing up an opponent while glaring at one another.
If anyone other than a Ling saw this they might think something bad was going to happen, but in fact this was basic communication. The yearlings were forbidden from speaking common tongue unless spoken to by an adult, so they speak with their bodies. As they circle one another they begin to puff out their chest or raise their chin, tilt their head to the side or flick their hand or tail, establishing tells as each individual person essentially has their own dialect of an unspoken language.
They were figuring out how to talk to each other. It didn't take long, moments in fact since they are raised in the same tribe many nuances are the same it is only a matter of which appendage they favor to relay certain emotions. A scuff of a foot versus a dismissive wave of a hand could mean the same thing depending on your bloodline.
The Darkling took turns with each person in the circle, stalking in circles until a ring had formed in the sand from their pacing. When the final member had finished they all crowded together, pushing their bodies against one another to show acceptance, this is perhaps the deepest level of bonding as the collective warmth both physically and spiritually is transferred. When this was all done they could finally talk.
The Darkling took the initiative gesturing to the Rocling.
Confusion. The instructor is displeased with me?
Reassurance. He picks someone new every week. He would have found a reason, it is tradition.
Satisfied with that answer it let out a small sigh of relief. Nothing else needed to be said really so they all moved on to eat. The dietary habits of the Lings would give any biologist nightmares, in fact the only reason the Ling do not overpopulate the other races is specific to this reason. Providing all of the required food for each palette is a challenge and it gives reason for certain Lings to live in certain areas because of it. Thankfully despite several unique food requirements around 70% of them ate meat, meat and vegetables, or vegetables.
After they were finished eating they all collected a small cup and filled it with water. Following in turn the Darkling inquired this time to the Catling, who was perhaps the most difficult to speak to since it was constantly flickering in and out of sight.
Curious. What is the cup for?
Displeased. To drink poison.
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Author note.. Don't know why but when I copied this into the thing it only put in half.. It has been pasted appropriately and you may read the rest of this chapter now.