The cold light of the moon shone down on Pifore-titu as the chill of a newborn night settled into her bones. The Portal was [closed], those terrifying Cultivators were gone, and she had never felt so small in her entire life. This morning, she was a proud Spirit Puma lvl 24. Tonight, Pifore learned she was actually a kitten. She had no pride anymore, only the hope to be worthy of it again.
The Puma looked to the Northwest–down the path the “Barn Owl” and Wolf Princess had taken, and let her mind wander. She would allow herself these minutes; Pifore needed to get her shit together before she reported this to her Grandmother, Wisteria Wutenshi.
A quiet whisper in Pifore’s heart told her not to go back to the cave at all–to follow the strange creatures she met to the Northwest. She wondered if it was the mysterious pull of the Shamanic Journey that the owl Cultivator, Elder Jihe, had mentioned.
Do I really have to report this?
The owl told her she was allowed to tell Grandmother, but only so Pifore herself could save face. He had said that her story would be accepted on account of a Spirit Beast named “Richard” and that should be that.
Pifore was unfortunate Jihe had spoken the way he did when he formed the contract of secrecy. He used the word may, which gave Pifore the choice of sharing the information with Grandmother.
She really hated having to make that choice.
Yeah, I could just not tell her. I’m an adult, and a sanctioned [Realm Guardian]. This is my business, and the Tribe is Grandmother's business.
She could just say she didn’t want to tell her, that the fewer who knew, the safer they were, and that as [Realm Guardian], it was her authority to decide how the situation was handled.
This would enrage Grandmother of course, but meeting those Cultivators had changed something in Pifore.
She prayed to her Spirit Guide, Dale Hammond, for guidance as she placed a paw on her neck and stroked the protective talisman he had given her. Grandmother had laughed when Pifore returned from her first Vision Quest, bubbling with excitement and the news that her Spirit Guide was a human.
Pifore was devastated when Grandmother belittled her sacred gift and dismissed the teacher that Great Spirit had sent to her.
“You look like a dog with that collar on. Take it off.” said her Grandmother.
But Pifore would not take it off. She felt like it was a test from the Great Spirit to stay true to herself. Pifore-titu always felt safer since Dale Hammond had given the protective talisman to her, along with her Spiritual Name (Pifore never liked her birth-name very much; it was Crysanthemum).
The talisman had even saved her life!
Two winters after Pifore-titu had completed her right of passage and met Dale Hammond, she had eaten tainted meat that made her sick. Her Grandmother consulted the bones and peered into her future. The old cat told Pifore that she must go on another Vision Quest, and beseech the Spirits to avoid certain death.
Pifore was sure Grandmother Wisteria thought she was being punished for praying to a human Spirit Guide, and that "a proper one” would be the key to her healing, but it was her human Spirit Guide–Dale Hammond–that came to her again!
Just like before, Dale pointed his medicine gun at her and it sent Pifore into a deep Shamanic sleep. It was really scary the first time. He could have been a hunter and she could have been dead, but to walk the red road is to die every day. Pifore-titu trusted in the Great Spirit, and did not run away when her Spirit Guide revealed himself to her, and she did not judge his external appearance. She let the Spiritual dart hit her, and her fear and ego dissolved.
She woke up in a very white cave managed by other human Spirit Guides. There, she remembered hearing Dale Hammond’s voice, where he called upon a Healing Spirit named “Andy Biodicks” to cleanse her body of evil energies. Over the next few days, human Spirit Guides fed her delicious meat, and treated her with large acupuncture needles affixed to small vials of healing elixirs. Everyone kept praising how well the Chi of Andy Biodicks was working. She tried to figure out which of the Spirits was him, but one morning Dale Hammond returned and used an elixir to bring her out of the Vision Quest. An unknown length of time passed, and she woke up on the Physical Plane with a brand new protective talisman on her neck. Miraculously; the illness was gone!
Pifore will never forget the look on her Grandmother's face when she told her how Dale Hammond and Andy Biodicks saved her life; and that now she had two human Spirit Guides she could call on for help!
When was the last time I actually made my own decisions? When had I guiltlessly followed my own path, even if Grandmother disagreed? When I chose to keep my talisman on?
To Pifore-titu, telling Grandmother about her intentions always felt like asking for permission, even if advice is not what she sought by sharing with her. She had a lot of freedom, that was true, but her Grandmother always punished her with small remarks if she acted or thought in ways she disapproved of. Pifore could not be her true self in front of Wisteria without being criticized. She would inevitably say things like:
“Why didn’t you…”
“You should have...”
“I can’t believe you would...”
“How could you say something like that?”
“You’re not like that.”
“Don’t even think such a thing!”
Eventually, Pifore learned not to talk about personal things with Wisteria. She created a mask to wear in front of her to make their relationship bearable. But because Pifore never knew exactly what would irritate Wisteria, the “mask” she wore was constantly going through small changes. It created a little Grandmother inside her head that criticized her constantly. It was exhausting.
This metaphorical mask did not have a hole for a mouth, as a good rule Pifore had learned was:
“The fewer things I tell my Grandmother about me and what I’m doing, the easier my life is and the less she can manipulate me.”
The Young Puma had a feeling if she went home, she would be kept in the cave and out of the loop for the rest of… whatever this was. A low growl rumbled in her throat as she thought about it.
Not to mention… She really wanted to see Raella, the Wolf Princess again.
Pifore-titu licked her fangs as the memory of the girl stirred something new and strange inside of her.
Pifore wasn’t into women (especially younger, Canine women), but that was before she had met that woman.
Raella looked like a potion of golden liquid sex in that Tribal lingerie…
In truth, Pifore felt so completely outclassed by Shri Raella, that she developed a bit of a complex about it, and managed the feelings of inferiority by fetishizing them. She wanted to be dominated by a powerful woman she perceived as superior to her. She wanted to be abused and humiliated like the shameless pussy she was. The way Shri Raella arrived on the Material Plane like she owned the place and completely disregarded her was… thrilling to Pifore.
The whole time Raella had communed with the owl, she didn’t glance at Pifore more than once! As a Mountain Lion, she was used to being stared at. Being ignored made her feel invisible. It made her feel like prey. It made her feel worse than prey–because even Raella would be interested in that. When she was in the presence of a woman like Raella, Pifore felt like prey that was so small she wasn’t worth the trouble of eating.
It made Pifore purr… Was this her authentic self? Or was it just a fragment of rebellion? A false persona crafted from all the traits her Grandmother would hate the most? Pifore-titu didn’t care, because as strange and paradoxical as it was, right now it felt good.
She hadn’t even had feelings like this before! Sexuality was not a theme of her disagreements with her Grandmother. It was about being respected as an adult that can have their own preferences and choose a life path for themselves and-
I feel like a huge ball of stress that is going to fucking EXPLODE if someone doesn’t knock my rocks off RIGHT NOW!
The pubescent Puma was frantically sniffing the ground where Raella had lain while her imagination took her away:
They would go on a moonlight hunt. Just the two of them. They would be covered in gore after a fresh kill. Hot and sweaty. I would submissively wait for Raella to eat first, then it would be my duty to lick all the blood out of Raella’s fur and-
“Titu-shi!” growled a stern voice behind her.
“Uuaaah! Yes Grandmother?!”
“What is taking you so long? Why have you not returned already with your report?” asked the huge Mountain Lion Matriarch. Her tan fur had faded almost entirely white with age.
Pifore’s oasis dried up instantly at the sight of her.
“Well you see… It’s uh, complicated.”
“I know.’ said Wisteria.
‘Our honored guests have forewarned us about these Lower World renegades. Now come with me at once, we must prepare for the hunt. You will receive a great blessing, and right of passage tonight.”
“Grandmother! There is a fire coming this way and-”
“I know, child. It was our honored guests who started it. The closing of the Oak Node portal was their signal to begin.”
Pifore’s heart was beginning to panic.
“What? Why would you allow that!?”
“In the ancient days of the unending frost, our primal ancestors once hunted together with humans in times of scarcity. We would drive a Mammoth off a cliff, or use brush fires to corral and trap our prey. Such alliances are necessary when taking down the largest and most dangerous game.”
“...What are we hunting, Grandmother?”
“Hurry, we will finish this conversation on our way to the cave.” she said, and stalked away as the dry ground sighed at the first touches of the rain.
Pifore-titu glanced one last time through the gap in the trees to the Northwest, then followed after her.
“Umm Grandmother? Those... uhh, Lower Worlders told me something. They said that they are friends of someone called Richard, and that this is like, under his jurisdiction now."
The old cat paused her stride at the mention of that name, and without turning, said:
“Richard hasn’t been awake in over a decade."
"Will Richard be upset that we started a fire and are hunting his, uh friend?” asked Pifore.
She stood still a few moments, then began walking again. There was less confidence in her stride than before.
"It doesn’t matter anyway, the deal has already been struck.”
“What deal?” asked Pifore.
“The deal that will save the Wutenshi, child.”
Thunder rolled over them from far off in the direction they were heading.
When had all this happened? Why did none of my sisters say anything?
Until a few days ago, Pifore had been gone. She was far to the North, finishing her apprenticeship as a [Realm Guardian] with Grelki. Even so, there were plenty of times to tell her, and they didn’t. Her sisters had seemed more distant…
“Why havn’t you told me any of this until right now?” asked Pifore.
“Because you might have warned our prey, or his friends, or accidentally tipped them off. In order for us to avoid the Judgement of Heaven, our prey had to be given a chance to greet the [Realm Guardian].
“What if he ate me?”
“Then Heaven would have surely condemned him to death. With or without our help.”
They walked in silence, their backs becoming damp from the gentle rain.
“How did we get involved in all this? What is this deal you mentioned?” asked Pifore.
Wisteria continued through the dappled moonlight as if she was not going to answer, but after a minute, she began:
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“A little more than three moons ago, Roadmen from South America brought offerings to us and asked permission to use our territory to conduct a hunt.
They sought to lure a rogue Nature God to the Physical Plane, a transgression for which he could be rightfully punished according to the Laws of Heaven. They said it was a chance to kill a Divine being, without paying any Karmic fee.
They even offered us a portion of its meat when they bring it down… And they will bring it down.
No matter how I cast the bones, that fact remained the same.” Wisteria said.
They stalked forward for a while in thoughtful silence.
“Did the bones say anything else?”
“No. Everything else was impossible to discern. The God could breathe its last breath wreathed by our corpses, for all I know. That makes me worried.” said her Grandmother in a rare admission.
Wisteria stopped again when they reached the top of a steep hill. This was an important place for her Tribe; they overlooked a valley that for many generations the Wutenshi had called home–long before the humans came and the deer became scarce. Pifore admired the view in the moonlight for a few moments before clouds covered everything in darkness. A cold wind tore up the ridge and rippled through the Mountain Lions fur.
“Do you want to save the Wutenshi, child?” Wisteria asked, with iron in her voice as she beheld the valley below.
Pifore was facing the other direction, towards the fire far off in the distance behind them. She quickly turned and answered the leading question.
“Yes, of course I do Grandmother!”
“Then I need you to promise to follow my example, and do exactly as I and our guests command you tonight. They are in charge of this hunt, and you will obey them.”
“But Grandmother-
“Shut up and listen to me!” Wisteria roared as she whirled on Pifore.
“Do you have any idea what Divine flesh could do for our cultivation? It would improve our entire Tribes path! We could join our exalted cousins in the Lower World, where they have much power and respect! I don’t care where you go after this. Leave the Tribe for all I care, but you will promise me!” the old Mountain Lion spat.
Her eyes blazed with madness as they stared down Pifore.
“Now promise me! Or become the first course in the feast tonight!” she roared.
Pifore was completely heartbroken and stunned. She looked into those eyes and knew without a doubt that if she didn’t go along with this, her own Grandmother was going to kill her, right here and now.
She saw death approaching, but her heart wanted to say “No. I don’t promise.” It would be okay, like when she accepted the fear of death with Dale Hammond’s medicine gun. Pifore wanted no part of this “hunt.”
Pifore-titu bared her fangs back at Wisteria before she was instantly on the ground with the Matriarch’s jaws around her neck. Her Grandmother shook her once, violently slamming her head against the muddy ground. She could feel Wisteria’s jaws tearing into her protective talisman, and with another jerk of her Grandmothers head, she tore it off Pifore's neck.
Wisteria’s fangs were around Pifore’s bare throat now–she felt them beginning to draw blood. Pifore wasn’t [Psychic], she was a disappointment that could not bring her Tribe back to prosperity. They all were. Her Grandmother could afford to kill her. And her sisters would eat her. Food being as precious as it was. They had all eaten their younger brother when he starved…
“I promise.” Pifore sobbed.
Grandmother did not lead Pifore to the many chambered caves that served as their home. Instead, they went to another one known to the Wutenshi Tribe; one that the big cats used as an outpost for extended hunts during the high heat of summer, or the chill of winter. It was close to the Oak Node [closed], which Pifore assumed was the only reason they were using it.
She smelled the humans long before they neared the cave. She also smelled human blood, which made Pifore even more nervous. Her paws grew heavier and heavier and her heart began to drum against the inside of her ribcage as a feeling of profound wrongness filled her being.
What was going on?
Muffled drumming reached her ears as they approached. Two men, draped in cloaks of woven grass and leaves, stood at attention guarding the entrance to their cave. The hair on Pifores back began to rise, but she forced her instincts down. These were guests. They gave Pifore the creeps. These humans were not like Dale Hammond at all.
The most obvious difference being how small they were. They were all under five feet tall. Rather than make them less intimidating, the small stature of the men gave them an uncanny quality that made Pifore feel as if she were in a living nightmare.
The men said nothing, and failed to incline their heads as they approached. They held direct eye contact with the two Spirit Beasts in a clear sign of dominance and disrespect. Pifore was afraid this would start a fight; she had already looked away.
An owl hooted, and the tension broke as Wisteria also cut eye contact. Her Grandmother ignored the insult as she strode in, which was unlike her. Pifore followed the Matriarch inside.
Unlike their home cave, which was a warren of smaller, partially dug chambers for sleep. This cave had a narrow passage that led thirty or so feet slightly down and to the right before opening into a single, dome-like chamber. It was about sixty-five feet in diameter with a fifteen foot ceiling at it’s highest point. Nothing was carved here, just a dirt floor with walls of natural rock.
In the center a large fire had been kindled, and it cast eerie shadows on the walls behind over a dozen other strange humans seated around the edges of the cave. Pifore almost gasped when she saw that one of her cousins or sisters was reclining beside each one of the men as they all faced the central fire. Some were even letting the men pet them.
What… is going on?
“Grandmother, can we talk in private?”
“Wait for the the maestro, my dear, then we will explain everything.” said her Grandmother.
“The maestro?”
Just then she felt A HAND, slowly caressing up her back. It started way too low on her rump to be appropriate. The offender had the sense to stop before her jaws were in reach of his wrist, and then he was gone–striding past her on spidery black legs to sit behind a gross looking altar that resembled dissected roadkill more than anything else. It reminded her of the tainted food that hunger had driven her to eat. His altar even had a Puma skull on it.
Why are we ok with this? What hunger had driven her Grandmother to do this?
Deep down Pifore thought she knew. It was no secret that the Wutenshi Tribe was dying out. They had no males. Not since her little brother had starved.
[Psychic], a rare and valuable inheritable trait, had a chance to appear in Wutenshi females of every other generation. Her Grandmother was a [Psychic], of course. Pifore-titu…was not. It was another reason Pifore felt she would never be enough in her Grandmother's eyes.
The [Psychic] trait was the blessing, and bane of their tribe. Males competed fiercely for the small number of [Psychic] females, often to the death. Sometimes "the winner" was so wounded that they would die as well. Wutenshi males were seen as less important, and received less food than the females in early life; as it was thought that the lionesses were more likely to aquire the trait if they were hale and healthy. The [Psychic] trait gave Wutenshi females strong intuition, which helped them avoid danger and survive better than the males of the Tribe. As the number of [Psychics] in the Tribe decreased over time, males that could not secure one for a mate often chose to leave, rather than be a lowly subordinate to the ruling [Psychic] families. Over time, these factors combined to tip the gender balance of the Wutenshi to what it is today: 12 females, 0 males.
They needed a young lioness with the [Psychic] trait to attract males back to their territory, but that hope was lost.
The spring when her mothers last litter came of age was a disappointing one for the Wutenshi Tribe; her little brother had just died the prior winter, and neither Pifore, nor her three sisters had inherited the trait [Psychic] upon reaching adolescense.
That made Pifore-titu’s Grandmother, Wisteria Wutenshi, the last [Psychic] in their Tribe.
Pifore planned to find her own territory one day and mate, but if all the girls went their separate ways it would mean the end of the Wutenshi Tribe as they knew it–something her Grandmother would not tolerate. So at twenty-six years old, Pifore still hadn't mated once!
Everyone was taking their places now, and Pifore-titu was bade to sit on the left side of the horrible “maestro,” while her grandmother posed proudly on his right. Pifore-titu thought she might throw up.
Now that she was closer, Pifore took a good look at the face of the man beneath the hood beside her. His skin was dark, totally and completely black. His features were unlike any race she had seen on the surface of Earth. Their foreheads were flattened, and their elongated skulls extended back several more inches than a normal human head. Their faces were almost bestial. They had thick jaws that held long lower incisors, which protruded from the bottom lips of some of the men. Surprisingly, their eyes were mostly normal, human. Their gaze was cold and expressionless.
Hammond, help me. Were these humans from Lower World too?
The maestro clapped his beaded wrists together and began to chant. As he did, he prepared a stone bowl filled with strange smelling herbs and lit it. The incense made Pifore feel dizzy, but she dug one claw into her paw to keep focused. The man produced a large earthen pot from the pile of occult supplies behind him, and with a cruel ritualistic knife, he pried the lid open.
The smell pulled itself into Pifore’s nostrils like a worm. She almost gagged, but didn’t want to draw attention to herself and held it in. Some of the other girls did, and the weird men just laughed at them.
The man ladled a black liquid into thirteen cups (one for himself), and did the same for twelve bowls, which the other men placed before all the female mountain lions. Pifore could see chunks of something slither over the edge of the ladle as the ominous liquid was portioned into the bowls and cups.
When every man and cat in the cave had a serving of the foul smelling liquid in front of them, the maestro began to speak in Spanish. Grandmother Wisteria (who spoke the language), translated to the rest of the cats.
He said they were powerful assassins, and that they had been contracted to hunt down a dangerous being. The creature was a Nature God, one of the line of Primordial Ancient Wolves. They have performed the necessary rites, and brought kingly offerings to our Tribe in exchange for our blessing to be on this land to conduct their hunt. They will also be granting us food and the resources we need to cultivate and survive.
They are also offering us this ceremony; which will both empower their warriors for the coming hunt...as well as secure a future for the Wutenshi Tribe."
Wisteria’s eyes turned hungirly towards the maestro as she finished speaking and lowered her head.
Before Pifore could ask what her Grandmother meant, "the maestro" began to rattle and chant again. The man to Pifore’s left walked the circle once with burning herbs–and as he did–indicated for each pair of man and cat to drink.
She thought about running away, but the exit was on the opposite side of the room. A man was standing there to stop her, anyway.
Pifore-titu performed a silent prayer to the Great Spirit, and to Dale Hammond.
Then she drank.