---Qrez’s perspective---

The brutes leave the tent, off to waddle back to their disgusting hovels.

It’s absurd that these savages build permanent dwellings in a single location and just keep living there unless and until something happens that makes it impossible to do so!

How primitive can you be!?

Of course, it’s little wonder their tribes are so small when they limit themselves to sedentism!

You can only get larger populations with the application of nomady, it seems!

The repulsive way they lowed and bleated at eachother in that gibberish tongue of theirs made my stomach turn!

The halfbreed seemed right at home with them… perhaps he should think about going to live with his own kind(!)

Still… the women weren’t bad looking… as animals go… I might not object if they came asking me to give them halfbreeds of their own(!)

“…Qrez?” comes a voice, breaking me from my seethe.

“I’m sorry… could you repeat that, leader?”

“I asked if you foresaw any issues with us acquiring enough meat both for ourselves and to trade to make up the vegetable shortfall?” repeats the man unfit to lead.

This man whose sole qualifications to sit where he sits are his blood and his charisma!

This man charismatic enough that he managed to convince all that’s left of our people to traipse halfway around the world to get to this cold, dreary, miserable place populated by paleskinned beastmen!

Dismissively, I answer “We can do it… but I still think you should have simply demanded they let us gather in the territory they claim as ‘theirs’… or, better yet, we could have demanded they do the gathering and bring us what we need as tribute!… Afterall, they will owe us a debt of gratitude for the civilising knowledge you plan on sharing with them and… we did just become the single most powerful force between here and the Great Delta!”

The man exudes his charm to smile “We could have, Qrez… You’re right we could have demanded that… but do you think it wise to be making enemies when we just arrived here?”

I frown “Why not? Do you think there might be some force that could equal us hidden within striking distance?”

He chuckles “No, Qrez… I just think that it’s better to make friends than enemies! It’s better to be generous than greedy! It’s better to have neighbours who, if we find ourselves in difficulty down the river, think ‘Oh no! Our friends! We must help!’ and not ‘Finally! Our enemies are weakened! Now is our moment!’… Don’t you agree?”

“Mmm…” I grunt, not really having the patience for such nonsense.

---Raala’s perspective---

“It’s a pretty good deal though, right?” says Vortlug, missing the point entirely.

“Yes! It’s a fantastic deal but he basically told us in plain Basinspeak that it was only so good to soften the hide with us, didn’t he!?… That and do you not remember him saying it was subject to renegotiation at a later time? I think that basically means that they’ll honour this deal for juuuuust long enough that it’s not really practical for us to tell them to leave anymore, then say ‘Nooooo, sooooorry… looks like you guys are bringing us tooooo many vegetables… we have to cut the exchange rate!’” I sneer.

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“Yeah… but… like… it’d still be a great deal at half the price!” points out Mogratro.

“Then they’ll make it a quarter!”

“That’s still a pretty alright deal…”

“Then it’ll be an eighth!” I snap.

“Well…” muses my brunet halfcousin “…even if they completely rescind the offer at some point, it isn’t like we’ve lost anything, is it? We don’t use the plains so what’s the harm in letting them?”

“Oh, let me see:…(!)” I answer, petulantly “…Losing control of our Westward access to the rest of the Basin? Having a force of people absolutely able to overpower all six clans (no matter how weak they say they are) on our doorstep and only their word that they won’t? The fact that we know their kind do ‘war’? The fact that, since animals move freely between forest and plain, once they’ve scoured the plains clean of everything edible and fucked off West for the years it’ll take to recover, we’re gonna suffer indirectly because new animals won’t be coming in to replace the ones we hunt? And, worst of all, they seem to have every intention of breeding us out of existence!… You saw that kid, right? They know they can breed with us and they seem to have no qualms about doing so! That many of them, the whole Basin will be as hybridised as that boy is in the span of a few generations!”

“Erm… I mean… you don’t want outland hybrid kids, don’t have kids with an outlander maybe? Seems simple enough, right…? I mean, no one’s holding a spear on you to force you…(!)” scoffs Vortlug.

There’s a moment where we all consider that before Lashra beats me to it, quietly suggesting “What if they did, though?”

Sombrely, I expand “With so many of them, we’d have to do a ‘war’ about it…” the outland word sticking in my throat as much as the concept sticks in my mind “…it’d probably take every clan in the Basin uniting against them to have a chance… and, even then, if we just drove them away, they’d only become someone else’s problem…”

“Enough.” declares my dad “No one’s doing a ‘war’ with the outlanders… Not unless they give us a reason… So far, they’ve been civil… for the moment, we are simply hoping they remain so.”

“Hmmm, here’s hoping…” I say, doubtfully.

---Zgrizeh’s perspective---

“They hated me, Mum!” pines my son as we sit in the tent which, for the moment, we have to ourselves.

“They didn’t hate you, Eshker.” I reassure, raising my hand to the side of his face and smiling gently “They were just surprised by you and it made them forget their manners is all… If your father was any indication, his people don’t have any problem making it known when they dislike someone(!)”

“But you saw their faces, right?!” he asks, miserably “You saw how they looked at me!?”

“I did…” I acknowledge “…but I saw no hatred there.”

At that, he sighs and turns away from me.

Under his breath, he mutters “I thought I’d belong here… I thought this would finally be a place where I wouldn’t be a halfbreed anymore…”

“Hey!” I chide, sternly, closing the distance and turning his face back to force his watery eyes to meet mine.

My heart aches for the brief moment it takes me to stop seeing his father in his face.

“You are a half nothing! Alright!? You are all my son! You are all Deltaman! Wherever your father came from originally, he was one of us too!… Those whose minds are so small that they throw around that kind of insult are not worth listening to about anything, you hear me?”

“But-!” he starts to object.

“Do. you. hear. me. Eshker Red Son!?” I interrupt, gripping both sides of his head, fiercely.

“I… I hear you, Mum.”

“Good!” I say before laying a long kiss on his sloping forehead, feeling another ache as his father’s petrichor fills my nostrils.

Several long moments pass before I pull my lips away and replace them with my forehead.

“You just need to give the locals a little time. I’m sure they’ll warm up to you. You speak their language as well as me or Ksem, maybe better! You know their customs, their ways and (in spite of my best efforts to the contrary(!)) you share their religion. I’m sure, in time, you’ll come to serve as a bridge between our people’s every bit as much as Ksem will… and, if they don’t, you’re still one of us and you always will be!”