The wolf opened its eyes once more.

It had turned into an issue.

It could observe three major problems with the situation. One was that its numbers have been culled severely, and that would reduce the power they held within the packs. The second is that it needed to constantly have a guard out, which uses up far more energy than they are supposed to use. Which leads to the third issue; They don’t have the ability to retrieve food.

Though the other wolves suspected nothing, he already knew. Knew that the place he’s lived in is weird. Even if he eats the entire body of his prey, it would not make sense. He gets energy from food, but it also takes energy to move and hunt for food. Wasting this energy reduces the total amount of energy, and it should have run out by now if so, as increasing their numbers is already a very consuming experience. So where did the added energy come from? Surely not the small hunt that came every now and then that weren’t wolves, those couldn’t be the answer.

He looked up, staring at his memory of the outside of the cave, the strange lightings that come from the ceiling, though dim. He is immensely intrigued by what lay beyond, yet with all his willpower it can not fight the urge to stay. As if something bigger were controlling him.

He closed his eyes again. That may be so.

For now, he would wait as he had before. That is one of the things his kind are good at. Waiting.

…

“I still don’t see why we make food we aren’t going to eat. Isn’t it wasting? Don’t you hate wasting?”

“Bait.”

“I still don’t get it.”

Seeing as there would be no reply, Isirith finally shut up. Right now she was fully geared in the tough hide of the bear, which is stronger than the wolves’ pelts. Her permanently borrowed spear was held at her side, casually gripped. There was a cooked piece of meat about twenty or so feet ahead of her to the far left, attached to a string Tomoee held in her hands.

Isirith was about to speak up again until she saw Tomoee hold up a finger to her mouth area, which she learned signaled to be quiet, and usually stop moving. Holding her breath, she did as asked.

She soon found the reason why.

A pile of fur started to creep out of the dark, only detectable by her due to the changing pitches of black rather than color. Not making a sound, she watched as it got closer to the meal, a low grumble and hiss combination coming from the creature’s throat.

With suspense, it inched closer to the slab, ears twitching in detection while the nose sniffed for the food’s location. Soundly next to the meal, it reeled its snout back, and with great speed jabbed it forward.

Right into the rock. It didn’t seem too affected, shaking it off slightly, but Isirith almost rubbed her nose in sympathy. Ow.

At the last second, Tomoee had yanked back, moving the meat. Now, ever so slowly, she wrapped the connector around her wrist over and over again, slowly drawing it closer. That’s when it hit her.

Bait means a lure, used to draw something in. Interesting, it seems mostly to be used as a hunting term. Kukuku, it’s been a bit since I’ve learned something new. Her thoughts ended with a tinge of remorse, the welt on her right hand seeming to grow in outcry. Soothing it the best she could with her thoughts, she observed even further.

Now that it had started moving, the bait had kept moving. If she had to guess it would be to make it seem like a real animal. After being attacked, it wouldn’t stay still for a while.

The activity of the wolf all but confirmed her theory.

It stalked the meal ever slowly, careful to not make a sound, distributing its weight in sync with every paw. The clicking of its protruding claws hitting the floor became raucous in the silence.

And with speed that even Isirith had trouble keeping up with, the wolf lashed out again.

And Tomoee was faster.

As it focused on the tender hunt, Tomo-

I thought she said she couldn’t walk on walls?

Using abnormal dexterity, her run built up momentum before pattering on the rough surface of untread rock. The animal cocking its head far too late took in the sight of several seconds of anti-gravity, followed by a swift launch and flip. Her position ended up behind the beast, blocking off escape to its pack.

It growled with unearthly moaning, the rabid instinct rushing towards its brain.

“Kill it.”

Isirith looked at Tomoee like she was the dumbest thing in the world. “ME!?! Kill THAT!?! There’s no way-”

“Avoid teeth. Sickness is annoying.”

Isirith proceeded to take in the next few seconds to see if Tomoee was joking. If she thought about it, it really was possible. Maybe she was just hiding her comedy for the surprise factor? Indeed, a valid point, and she had noticed how Tomoee was always changing subtly, in-

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

She could only shiver. Those eyes don’t lie.

Standing up straight, and with a small quiver in her legs, she tightened her grip on the spear. The wolf had already charged Tomoee, which resulted in a swift kick in the ribs at Isirith’s direction. Slowly, she edged her posture in sync with her breathing, leaving her in a crouch, her hands positioned to the middle-lower section of its bar.

Even as it got closer she didn’t waver. She couldn’t. Keeping eyes on the enemy, she learned quite painfully, is very important.

Even unspoken, her lessons were told through movement. “Watch their muscles, their movements, their patterns, and their eyes. Predict where they’ll go, and move to counter.”

With startling velocity, the wolf pounced, ripping the wind to shreds with its hide.

And yet, to Isirith, it was only of decent speed. In fact, possibly slower.

Her body shifted to the side, forcing the wolf to fly past her as she jammed the metal tip towards the soft underbelly of the creature.

Sensing imminent danger, it tucked its belly in and swiveled a bit in the air, leaving only a minor scratch. This displeased her greatly, but what she heard only added on.

“Isirith,” Tomoee spoke, “it learns.”

It won’t work a second time then. She bit her lip, unknowing of why she did that. And yet, it always seemed to release tension. Her position returned, the spear being lowered by a bit. Then, pushing superhuman strength into her legs, she rushed it.

The wolf, cautious of the weapon, slipped to the side. In return, Isirth changed her charge to a sweep, moving the momentum from two hands to one to increase the radius. In an abrupt display of sacrificing half its tail, it moved in for a dive to the guts.

Hootlinfangers! Not a vile word she used so often.

And when she thought she was going to die, a rock slammed into the face of the snow prowler, a whimper in dry retort.

“There’s more than a blade.”

Isirith at this point had learned to stop being irritated at all the comments and quips made by

Tomoee and instead take it and remember it. It wasn’t as if she was being made fun of, she was just being taught.

Still, it could be phrased better.

Her eyes never left the creature’s nose, her eyes good enough to even see the small hairs flicker bath and forth. She was told never to focus on the eyes or the weapon, but make it so that you could see both, and react to her perferegorty vison. Prayfortagatory vasion? Something like that.

Clang!

The middle of the spear intercepted a strike from the wolf’s claw, and with sudden force she ricocheted it off the metal. Turning her momentum into a sweep, she ducked with blinding speed, lunging out her leg and taking the feet from under them in a single spin. Her foot made contact with its chest, the crushing slam making the telltale sound of cracked ribs.

It tumbled across the ground, its skin torn by the floor as Isirith pursued, the wind of battle on her side. Sacrificing any chance of its tail healing, it steered itself as if it had a rudder, repositioning into an all fours position. The sting of her weapon pierced the cold air as it aimed for the upper torso. Its flexible spine contorted to meet the strike with its claws, forcing all of its mass on the end.

It stuck in the ground firmly, the small crags making a hard to escape nook. Wasting no time, it spurred on a short charge, jaws open to a disturbingly large gape, aiming for her guts.

And then, with a brutal grace in its own way, she bashed its skull in with the bottom of the spear.

The pole, a nice, flexible material, easily shifted to the force applied, cramming in the bash. The beast, stunned, gave her time to draw her weapon from the ground.

And, when it opened its eyes, it was already too late.

…

Hmmm.

It wasn’t bad, per say, but it definitely could have been better. She also didn’t like that Isirith bent the spear. Just because she could doesn’t mean she should. Overall, however, she judged it as not a bad performance. She could at least handle herself.

“Thank you for the, uh, save.” She brushed her hair to the side and blushed a bit.

Tomoe shook her head, “Not needed. It wouldn’t have gone through the armor, just didn’t want to fix it.”

“Oh.” Isirith replied, deadpan.

“You can handle two without major trouble, maybe three.” Tomoe walked up to the corpse to put it near the rest, yet in its own special section. “I will teach you to skin your hunt, and then we will have another lesson before we begin.”

Isirith shivered at the ominous tone. “Begin what?”

She noticeably shivered again once there was no response while giving a nervous giggle. “Ah yeah, Tomoee, you kidder you.”

…

Tomoe carefully observed Isirith as she worked.

She had the nimble hands perfect for the work, and the skills and swiftness of a master of the trade. She hummed her little diddy as the knife slipped in and out of the hunt along specific lines and lacerations.

“Where did you learn?”

Isirith peeked up in surprise at that comment, but then smiled, her ears wiggling a bit. “We are taught to do this at a young age. Me and my sisters teach one another skills like this. Kukuku, I have a pretty good memory from when I was young.” Her hands continued to work magic of their own, just barely avoiding the meat and eyes, cutting out a so-far perfect skin.

Tomoe might have taken that comment innocently, had it not been for the prey she was likely used to skinning. Still, she couldn’t help but nod at the last part of their dialogue.

“I remember when I was young. Maybe I should dream of that tonight?”

“...What’s a dream?”

Tomoe, not confused at questions like that anymore, spoke after thinking for a few moments.

“As you sleep, you see images that your mind creates. They can be funny, crazy, normal, spiritual, or whatever it can concoct.”

“Concoct?”

“Create.”

She nodded in understanding as she stayed at the same pace she was always at. A few moments of consideration, and she thought of something to say. “Well, I don’t have things like that. When I sleep it feels… warm? And when I sleep with my sisters it feels, like, talkative. Like we can hear each other thinking, but not actually,” her face turned red from thinking, before finally giving up completely.

“I see.”

“Are people normally able to choose their dreams?”

“Only through years of practice. For most it is random imagery, and when they wake up it is soon forgotten, though feelings from the experience might remain.” She waited a bit, deciding on what words to use before resuming, “For me, I can review past things that have happened, or perhaps train. A mental space, for when I rest.”

“But isn’t resting for resting?”

Tomoe stroked the bottom of her helmet, but in the end, she had nothing to say. Or rather, there was nothing to say.

They skinned in silence.