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Poisonous Fox
Ingestion 1.5.17.1

Ingestion 1.5.17.1

Their timing was unfortunate.

Larissen hissed and bounded upward, quickly to a low crouch and ready to attack.

Kate pushed Manny aside and strode forward, barely restrained by Muleater and Ken, who watched warily. When Kate saw Larissen free and crouched, ready to spring, she bared her steel.

Muleater had yet to draw, and Ken was lacking any weapons altogether, except for his eating knife. They were running short on weapons then.

“Why are humans here?” Larissen asked in the Imperial tongue, though with a thick Kaivan accent.

Gregory opened his mouth to speak, likely to deride us further, and further sow discord between our two groups.

Lieutenant Muleater raised her voice first and beat Gregory to the mark.

“Escaping the infested,” Muleater answered Larissen’s question. “The question could be asked to you. Why are you here?”

Larissen spat, still remaining cautious but loosening slightly. Likely, he realized that combat now would be to our detriment. I hoped he realized that anyway. He answered, presumably to aid in de-escalating.

“These ones are honoring our sister,” Larissen said.

I was left wondering at that, at those exact words. He had said, ‘Our sister.’

He used to refer to Kissen as, ‘My sister.’

A stark change.

Had the shared customs meant so much to the Kaiva?

Perhaps. It raised certain questions regarding cannibalism in their culture, how widespread it might be, and the societal ramifications. But I could not allow myself to be distracted by idle thoughts, not when an immediate problem was at hand. While I appreciated the newfound bond shared between Larissen and I, and while I did want to honor Kissen’s memory, I would think it ill advised to alienate myself from the humans with those very same customs, namely the cannibalism.

Truly, they had arrived at an unfortunate time.

“These are the customs of the Kaiva,” I added, shifting focus to an attribute of the society as a whole. “Surely the Crown has customs that seem bizarre to the Kaiva.” I meant to then correlate the fact that both of our groups had customs, and that this tied us in common. Surely they were not so uneducated so as to not understand such a simple precept?

Gregory snorted when I mentioned the Crown, showing that I had apparently misused the term. Kate was now frowning, and Ken scowled. Manny Stillson held a calculating glint to his eyes as he hobbled over to a rock to sit. Apparently his leg had been injured in the time since I had seen him last.

“Middens is nothing like you animals,” Gregory sneered, emphasizing the term of his apparent kingdom. He pointed at me. “And you are not even Kaivan.”

Muleater held out an arm between Gregory and Larissen, despite the fact that neither had moved from their spot.

The aggression Larissen radiated must have been felt by all. His fur had bristled, and his claws, on his hands and his feet, were scratching against the stone beneath his feet. Larissen’s hiss turned into a spit. It took him several seconds to regain enough composure to speak.

“It is always the way with humans, these false pretensions, these failures to understand. My sister chose Kitten as a near-daughter; blood and spirit are honored. My near-niece is Kaiva. Such folly to claim otherwise.”

“Regardless, this doesn’t change our circumstances. Will you let us pass?” Muleater asked.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Before Larissen could protest out of pride and doom us to a disadvantaged conflict, I spoke, “Naturally. Of course. Why would we not?” Did she think we would charge a toll for passing? Not that it would be a terrible idea, except we were hardly in a position to enforce such a policy.

Muleater nodded. Gregory looked as though he wanted to protest, but a firm glare from the lieutenant caused his mouth to snap shut. As Kate moved to collect the Caravan Master, I could not help but notice the frown upon Manny’s face. Manny likely saw it too then. The missed opportunity. He could be an almost ally then, at least until he betrayed us for profit. The prospect of dealing with such a greedy snake failed to daunt me. I knew their ilk well, even if I might not remember how.

I decided to venture just a slight bit more. I asked, “But why do you need to pass?”

Apparently, the humans took this question as an act of aggression. Or perhaps untoward negotiation. They were used to low-lifes in Southbridge, from what I understood. Likely, such a phrase would proceed some sort of alleyway brawl. Ken brought his dagger up, and Muleater drew her sword by a fraction, so that the stained metal could be seen.

“You go back on your word again?” Muleater asked angrily. “So soon?”

“No,” I said, wincing as she implied I had betrayed them in the first place. That would need to be addressed eventually. “But–” and here I almost slipped up and voiced the accusatory word ‘why’ “-what brought us to this juncture? Weren’t you driving the mikuya back, last I saw? Did you not use the vials?”

“Ugh,” Kate groaned, “Fat lot of good they did.” She had already resheathed her sword as she stepped forward, seemingly forgetting the Caravan Master until he cleared his throat.

“The alchemicals were effective,” Manny offered. “However, there were more wyrkwik than we anticipated.”

“It makes no sense!” Ken snarled, lashing out and punching the stone wall. “How’re there so many! This isn’t the south. How’d they cross the chasm?! Which dirty fallen-gods-loving piece of rubbage let them–”

“Peace,” Muleater said softly. “What matters is that we were driven back with injuries. What matters is that we were pursued, though at a distance.”

“They’re taunting us,” Kate growled, gripping her hilt more tightly and frowning.

“Mikuya are many things,” Larissen said, standing up a bit further as he spoke, “but this does not sound like those many things. These seem… different.”

“Agreed,” the Caravan Master said. “But they likely will pursue us even here and we must be going…” he was back to that greedy regard, and I could almost feel his eyes land on my pockets. The very same pockets that held the remaining pilfered vials from Charson. I still had some left. I could use that.

I smiled a fraction.

“We may be traveling the same way,” I said. “But I worry if our objectives might not be the same.”

“Why? You’re working with the mi–wyrkwik–too?” Ken asked. A strange question. I had to wonder what sort of paranoia led him to that conclusion. Perhaps because Larissen and I had fled while they had fought?

“No,” I said seriously, before attempting to affect a smile. “At least not that I know of. But once we are done honoring our fallen, we plan to travel into the ravines and broken territory in pursuit of justice.”

“Against?”

“They mean Alchemist Charson, I believe,” Manny Stillson said. “I think our interests might not be so unaligned as you say. It was the alchemicals that turned the previous battle, afterall.”

“We hunt the alchemist for vengeance, not, not vials!” Larissen scolded, his fingers spreading and his claws seeming to extend if just slightly.

“You can’t be serious,” Gregory asked the other humans incredulously. “We aren’t going to take their side against Alchemist Charson. It was they who caused him to leave in the first place!”

“Abandon us, you mean,” the Caravan Master corrected.

“But so did they.”

“How else will we find him though?” the Caravan Master asked. “The beastborn can trace his path. This is likely our only path to survival.”

“But to consent to them hunting one of our own?” Ken interjected.

“I mean, it makes sense,” Kate said.

“You’re just wanting to save your little–” Gregory was speaking unpleasantly.

“Enough,” Muleater said. “Enough. I heard your points. If we want to survive, we just might need to find the Alchemist, especially if he is this way. Just a day previous, we had been working together–” Muleater focused on me now. I had risen up to stand by Larissen. “-Is this still true now?”

Larissen could not contain himself. “So long as our hunt is not… stopped,” he said, struggling to find the appropriate word and finally settling on a suboptimal choice.

“Very well,” Muleater said. “Finish with your dead. We must depart soon to stay ahead of the Wyrkwik. Already I smell ‘em on the wind.”

True enough, the sweet and rotting scent was on the wind. The mikuya would not hold long in their pursuit. Not for the first time, I felt some small comfort that their hostilities seemed focused on those around me, and not necessarily me.

But that was a problem for later. For now, I needed to continue cementing my relationship with Larissen.

We had a funerary custom to finish.

At the thought, my stomach grumbled slightly.