This was going to be the most important day of Mewl’s life.
After today, she wouldn’t have to parade herself in front of the humans ever again. She checks herself in the mirror on her stall one last time. She had to be just uninteresting enough that the humans didn’t bother with a second look at her, yet not clearly disinterested so that they didn’t pick her to punish her, like they did with Liln last parade.
The muted green of the ceremonial leathers that she chose contrasted weirdly with the natural gold and brown circular pattern of her fur, and she made sure to request them to be slightly too big for her slender frame. The growth spurt she hit last winter was unfortunate, as she heard that humans liked the tall ones more, but she could easily hunch herself over to make it seem she was smaller than her actual 7’6. The teeth necklace she always wore, a testament to her hunting prowess, was sufficiently hidden under the leathers, so that she could lie about her skill and she made sure to dirty her paws and tail a bit before heading to her stall so that they thought she didn’t care about her appearance.
She was perfect. She has to be.
Making one last prayer to the spirit of her hurlin, Mewl opens the latch on her stall and got ready to face the music.
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Ss’Vesh can barely contain her excitement as she stands in attention next to all the other Ranger graduates, her official outfit perfectly done around her bulky frame (She checked, twice), its deep blue tones matching well with the dark violet of her scales, the muscles she gained during her training being very apparent under it.
Yet, no matter how much she reassures herself that everything is going to be fine, she couldn’t stop the small part of her mind that was waiting for the first scales to shed, for everything she spent half of her life fighting for to come crashing down around her. It was a blessing when Sv’Irey slithered to the podium in front of her and began her speech.
“Today we gather here to celebrate our best and brightest, our guardians in the cold night, our Rangers. These brave warriors are our first line of defense against the humans that seek to destroy us, and today we have the pleasure to welcome a new class into their number.” The hyrka pauses to let the crowd cheer, before gesturing for them to quiet down. “And none of these stars shone quite as bright in their training as Ss’Vesh.”
Sv’Irey turns towards Ss’Vesh then, and the nervous pythoniade slithers up to the podium, her nervous rattling drowned out by the cheers from the crowd.
It was time.
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So far everything was going well for Mewl.
None of the five humans that comprised their delegation had bothered to approach her stall yet, and that was just fine with her. Surely they wouldn’t pick someone they hadn’t even looked at previously, especially since this was Mewl’s last showing. They had two other opportunities to pick her, and they didn’t. Everything was going to be fine. She was going to be able to live the rest of her life free of the fear of humans, hunting prey for her village and maybe, eventually, settling down to raise a fa—
Mewl’s musings were interrupted by someone clearing their throat next to her.
Instantly, she tenses up, though she tries her best to not show it as she slowly turns her eyes to look at the new arrival. He -at least Mewl thought it was a he- seemed young, for a human anyways. He didn’t have any of the fur around his jaw like other male humans Mewl had seen, and his stature was quite small, even for a human. If she had to guess, he struggled to break 5’3. Yet, his clothes were the most elaborate of any human she had seen, sporting vibrant colors like he was a poisonous frog out in the wilds.
“How may I help you?” Mewl haltingly says in the common tongue, despite her fluence, fully turning herself to face the little human.
“An introduction should be in order, I think,” the human says, his eyes traveling up and down Mewl’s body in a way that has her tail involuntarily flicker from side to side in irritation. “My name is Charles, what’s yours?” He continues, showing his teeth in what Mewl knew was supposed to be a show of friendliness, but only made her fur bristle.
“My common name is Melaine.” Mewl says, showing her much sharper teeth in return. Usually, that made the humans uncomfortable yet, surprisingly, that only made Charles show more of his own teeth. “I suppose that you want me to show you what I can do, then?” After getting a nod from the human in front of her, Mewl bends herself over, grabbing a block of wood from the shelves on the inside of her stall, then with practiced ease she starts whittling away at it with her claws, slowly taking the desired form out of it. “I’m a hunter by trade,” she says, “though I’m sure you humans don’t need another half-decent killer among you, so I took up carving on the side. What about you, what do you do?” she asks, as she focuses on shaping the block of wood into a dreadmaw, one of her favorite prey.
“I’m a merchant,” Charles says, “or rather, my father is. We finally got the approval to bring one of you monsters-” Mewl’s fur bristles at the name, “back into the city to help us around the place. It’s a big honor to be granted that, you know?”
“Oh yeah?” Mewl asks absentmindedly, working on the bigger details of the dreadmaw.
“Yeah, it pissed me off so much when Jerry and his stupid weaver bussiness got approval before we did. The bastard even had the gall to ride his stupid spider into university! Ugh, I hate that guy.” Nodding wisely, Mewl looks up from the half carved dreadmaw, and hands the unfinished figurine to the annoying human in front of her. “Here you go,” she says, “done to the best of my ability.”
Charles takes the carving, then stares at Mewl more, again letting his gaze roam all over her in a way that makes her skin itch. Involuntarily, Mewl lets out a hiss that, while initially startling the small human, makes him show even more of his teeth before he says “You will do.” And walks off.
Mewl can’t help but think she made a horrible, horrible mistake.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
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“Ss’Vesh entered the academy when she was only four winters old, and she has been working hard to prove her worth as a ranger ever since.” Sv’Irey says, “and prove her worth she has. She has been consistently at the top of her class in every field, doing better than any candidate has ever done before. She is an example for not only every other aspiring ranger, but for every pythoniade. So, it is my greatest pleasure to name Ss’Vesh as our youngest ranger captain!” As the crowd cheers around them, the hyrka turns towards Ss’Vesh and places a gold star on her outfit, signifying her new rank, before stepping back and clapping as Ss’Vesh returned to her position among the other graduates, who were clapping and cheering her themselves.
Despite knowing that this would happen, the relief of it finally being real put Ss’Vesh into a daze as the rest of her classmates were called out to the podium and congratulated on their performance. It was only after they were all called out and the festivities really started that she shook off her daze and went to find her nyska.
She shouldn’t have bothered.
As soon as she slithers off the section for graduates, she is instantly tackled by Ss’Rish. “I’m so proud of you!” She exclaims, crushing her daughter close to her chest, “my little baby, a ranger captain! I can barely believe it!”
Ss’Vesh hugs her nyska back, “me too mom, me too,” she says, the tension she was building all this time finally leaving her body in her mother’s crushing embrace. “It still feels surreal, if I’m being honest.”
Together the two of them move around the festivities, doing small talk to the familiar faces congratulating Ss’Vesh, as they catch up on their respective lives. Ss’Rish weaver business was booming, and she expected to have even more customers now that her daughter was so famous. Ss’Vesh, on the other hand, told her mother of the various training regimes she went through on the ranger academy, until they reached a comfortable lull in the conversation which happened to be around the crabcakes table, one of Ss’Rish’s favorite snacks.
“What about that one?” Ss’Rish suddenly says, pointing towards Sn’Burh, one of Ss’Vesh’s fellow graduates, whose dance moves were causing quite a stir, as he shows off his, Ss’Vesh bregundgly admitted, impressive muscles.
“What about him, nyska?” Ss’Vesh asks
“Well, you’re getting old enough to lay an egg or two, y’know? Have you thought about who you’re going to choose as your first kirln?” Ss’Vesh chokes on her food in surprise at the sudden topic change, taking several moments to compose herself after. Where had that come from?
Truth was, Ss’Vesh had thought very hard about taking a mate recently, after all in the last years of the academy a lot of her classmates had started exploring that part of themselves. Very loudly, in fact. And she had her share of invitations for a fling.
Just not from any other girls.
Ss’Vesh was very convinced that she wasn’t attracted to males at this point, and she was anxious about how her nyska would react.
“Mom, I-” she starts, her rattle shaking anxiously, “I’m not into guys.”
Ss’Rish blinks slowly, taken aback by the sudden admission. Then she hugs her nysda tightly again, saying, “oh baby, I’m so proud of you for being strong enough to admit that. That’s no issue with me, nysda.”
Ss’Vesh hugs her mother tightly back, relieved that this final secret was laid bare between them, “r-really? Don’t you want to have nysjas?”
Ss’Rish laughs a bit in response, “of course I want nysjas! I would rather you be happy and be without them than otherwise though.” Then, she pokes her nysda in the snout playfully, adding, “Besides, I’m still young enough to have another child myself, maybe they will be able to give me grandchildren, hmm?”
“MOM!”
Laughing loudly now, Ss’Rish drags her child to the dance floor, and soon they are caught up in the movement of the crowd, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the drums, laughing together at the more rambunctious members of the crowd, who were using the opportunity to grind on each other, sharing their heat.
As the tempo slowed, Ss’Vesh dragged her nyska back towards the refreshments table, laughter still on their lips. Only, Sv’Irey was there waiting for them, her posture grim.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your festivities so soon,” the hyrka said, “but humans were spotted along our borders a couple days ago.” Instantly the mirth fell from Ss’Vesh’s face at the news. “We want you to assemble a squad, and go investigate. Don’t engage unless absolutely necessary. You have until tomorrow at dawn to prepare.” Without waiting for a response, Sv’Irey slithers away.
“Fuck, I better start looking for my team then. Make sure that they don’t drink too much sylvestam.” Ss’Vesh says, looking towards her nyska, before rubbing their foreheads together to comfort her. “I’ll be fine mom, it’s just a scouting mission.”
Ss’Rish nods mutely, still dazed from the news. Nonetheless, she says “Go get them, nysda. I believe in you.”
Without further ado, Ss’Vesh slithers to try and find her teammates and tell them the news.
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Ever since Charles had stopped by Mewl’s stand, none of the other humans had approached. Kiurl, none of them had so much as looked towards her. Yet, Mewl couldn’t help but to be on edge. Every single instinct she had developed prowling the wilds told her she was in danger and had to run and hide.
Yet she could do nothing about it, stuck in her stall as she was. If she left, she had no idea how the humans would react, and if they were displeased the myrska would have her head. So, to pass the time, Mewl starts carving an actual figurine this time, instead of the half finished mess she gave to Charles.
She starts by chipping away the wood with her claws until the general she wanted starts to show, then grabs her actual tools and went to work on the details, the eyes; that always seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, the mane; that she could always bury her head into, the claws; that were so soft, yet so powerful, the tail; that curled up around her so many times over the years.
Soon, the sun had begun to set, marking the end of the parade. As she lacquered the statue in oils, she stared at her handiwork, feeling a profound sense of sadness and longing fill her. It was her father, prowling some invisible prey, every muscle ready for the pounce. It was like looking at the real thing.
Mewl breaks down then, hunching over the figure of her father and mewling softly, all the stress of the last year and a half of living without him finally reaching a tipping point and reducing her to a sobbing mess.
“Why did you leave me?” She whispers to the silent figurine, “why did you have to leave me alone, hurlin?”
The carving had no answers for her. Mewl was tempted to crush it between her claws, but it’s too similar to her father for her to consider the thought for more than a moment. So, she schools her face into the bored, uncaring look she had on before and rises back from her hunched position.
Only to come face to face with their tribes myrska, Fearen.
“It’s time, child” the older pantheru says, in the common tongue.
Nodding, Mewl steps out of her stall, the figurine of her father clutched tightly in her paws. Hurlin, give me strength, she prayed, as she took her spot in the line of this year’s offerings.
As soon as she took her spot, Charles locks eyes with her and shows her his teeth again.
Every instinct in her body scream at her to run then.
The other four humans and Fearen discussed among themselves, occasionally pointing towards one of the other females on the line, yet Mewl couldn’t bring herself to relax at all. Charles didn’t stop looking at her once during the entire time the rest of his companions were discussing things.
When the other four humans seemed to be about to make a decision, Charles calmly points at Mewl, and says, loud enough for everyone in the area to hear, “I want that one.”
The figurine in Mewl’s hands cracks in two.