The jungle of Rodeshton had always been renowned for its beauty. A fluffy canopy bursting with the greenest of leaves spread as far as the eye could see and beyond. Huge flowers of all colours wound their way up impressively thick trunks and scattered themselves across the root-strewn floor. It was never quiet. Throughout the day birds twittered and sang. Their effortless harmonies blended seamlessly to form a delightful chorus. Deep, rhythmical monkey whoops created the bass, setting the jungle’s pace. By nightfall, the bugs and the critters dominated the night air. They chirped a gentle lullaby. Every misplaced step sent hundreds of twinkling fireflies whooshing off the forest floor in great plumes, like stars shifting in the night sky.

It was one such night, deep in the heart of the jungle, that a lone tigress crept delicately through the underbrush. Her body was low to the ground, her ears pinned to her skull, and her gleaming, golden eyes fixated on a hulking ox. Huge horns arched out of his skull and curved around to a deadly point. He was foraging through the underbrush, dragging a mighty hoof across the forest floor, and churning its tightly packed soils. The thick, dark fur on his shoulders pulled tight over the chiselled muscles beneath. A short tail cracked like a whip at his rear. Every whoosh of his breath scattered leaves and grass away in a rush of hot air.

The tigress planted each of her wide paws carefully on the ground. Her tail stuck out straight behind her, twitching around to maintain her impeccable balance. Every breath she took was measured and shallow. Very soon, she found herself close enough that the ox's musky odour nipped her eyes and burned in her nose. His steady heartbeat thrummed, and she could hear it loud and clear. She was only two body lengths away from him.

A twig cracked beneath her paw. She froze in her tracks. The ox lifted his head. Wide eyes scanned his surroundings. He shifted his mighty weight on his hooves. The tigress’s heart began to pound in her chest. Crouching on her haunches, she leapt into the air. The ox swivelled on his feet, letting out a deep bellow. Her mighty claws dug into its side, her teeth sinking into its thick hide. The ox bucked, throwing her clean off. She landed hard against the floor, the breath rushing from her lungs.

By the time she had picked herself up, he was charging away from her. Any plant life in his path was instantly trampled. Trees rocked as he powered past them. The tigress’s claws dug into the soft ground. A deep rumble thundered in her chest. Hot steam began to rise from her skin, seeping through her fur and fogging up the air around her. The mist thickened, coiling around her tightly in a tornado of hot air.

The mist began to unwind and diffuse into the night. Crouched on the ground where the tiger had once been, a young girl appeared. Just like the tiger, her form was slender and athletic. With a grunt, she lifted herself to her feet. Clothes fashioned from bone and animal skin sat loosely atop her honeyed, caramel skin. Two emerald eyes peered out from beneath thick, dark lashes. A huge mass of dark, curly hair descended in loose ringlets down to her waist. Letting out a deep sigh, she glared at the trampled path through which the ox had fled. The corner of her lip curled downwards.

Twigs cracked behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught sight of two golden eyes peering at her through the darkness. A large, male tiger stalked towards her. His ears were perked up and his head held high. Letting out a weary sigh, she dropped her eyes to the ground in front of her feet. A sharp hissing filled the air. Hot steam blanched her skin from behind. A rough, calloused hand settled on her shoulder. "You were too rash, Fierce-Heart," a deep voice grumbled softly. The language he spoke was throaty, gruff and filled with all sorts of noises from the jungle.

Letting out a deep sigh, Fierce-Heart turned to face him. "If I hadn't pounced, he would have fled," she argued, placing her hands on her hips and lifting her eyes to meet emerald irises identical to her own. The man had a square jawline and a nearly completely shaven head. The only hair that remained was a long stripe from the middle of his forehead to the nape of his neck. The raven black strands of hair were pulled into tens of tight braids that fell all the way down to his hips. Feathers and bones were tucked into them, rattling every time he turned his head.

The man crossed his arms over his chest. A tight leather band was wrapped around his upper arm. Caramel skin like her own wrapped around light muscle. "My daughter, you know just as I do that the ox would have settled. It does not have a human spirit as we do," he chastised her lightly. His long skirt of animal skins flapped in the gentle breeze Long, looping necklaces of sharp, white teeth sat on his bare chest. "If you cannot beat your prey in strength alone, you must learn to outsmart it."

The girl wrapped her arms around her body and cast her eyes to the floor. "I know father. I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Once again, he rested a warm palm on her shoulder. "It's alright, my daughter, but you must learn patience if you are ever to bring down the mighty ox on your own," he told her softly. She nodded glumly. "Let us head to the village," he said slapping her back gently and turning to face the maze of thick tree trunks around him. Casting a cheeky smile over his shoulder, he added, "perhaps you should stick to hunting monkeys."

Fierce-Heart rolled her eyes. With a chuckle, he began trekking through the underbrush. She followed closely behind him, pushing long leaves and draping vines out of her path. "I will be stuck hunting Antelope forever, at this rate," she huffed.

The man, known to most as Old-Mind, ducked below a fallen, moss covered tree trunk. "I was twenty-one, three winters older than you when I caught my first Ox," her told her. The girl pressed her lips into a thin line. "You should take life as it is. Our biggest achievements come to us only when they are supposed to." She ducked below the fallen log and continued on their path forwards. "All we can do is diligently work towards them until they arrive."

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The girl blew out a hiss of air between her teeth. "But my mother was the same age as me when she took down her first Ox," she responded, grasping at her elbow with her opposite hand. "How can I ever be as great a hunter as her when I am already so far behind?"

"My sweet daughter," he glanced back at her, "If you compare your progress to the success of others, you will fail to see your own achievements." She bit down on her lip. A bird cooed high in the treetops above. "Your destiny will come in due time. Do not rush it, because it will arrive no faster and you will have wasted your breath." She stopped herself from responding. Although his words may be true, they only laid a thin blanket over her smouldering embers of unease.

On the long, winding path back to their village, they spoke of the village and its people. The crafters wanted to work with more exotic pelts. The builders were looking to excavate a new tree. The healers wanted another expedition to gather materials. The cooks were tired of antelope three days in a row. These were all such trivial matters that she knew they could be sorted in the bat of an eye, or with the flick of a wrist, but her father insisted on considering all the possible outcomes of granting such requests. Would sending hunters to search for rarer animals to harvest pelts from cause a deficiency in food supply? Would the noise from an excavation drive away possible prey? Could they risk any more healers dying in the depths of the jungle? If they tried to hunt for game other than antelope, would the hunters be stretched too thinly? It all gave her a headache.

They knew they were drawing close to the village long before they could see it. The low, steady thump of a drum pounded like the heartbeat of the forest. Loud squeals of delight and glee sang through the air. A warm orange glow peeked through the thick tree line ahead. A wide smile curled her lips. The tantalising scent of a charcoal fire drifted through the air.

Following in her father's footsteps, Fierce-Heart slipped past a few more trees and out into an open, circular expanse of forest floor. A huge fire burned at the centre of a wide clearing. Its roaring flames reached nearly double her height. Hundreds of tall silhouettes danced around the fire. Frayed skirts and bone chains flared out with every twirl and turn. Braided hair whipped out as they jumped, hopped and skipped in circles. High above where the flames roared, rope bridges and wooden huts were nestled in the thick branches. Countless children scurried over the bridges and dipped into the hollows of the trees. From where she stood, they looked like nothing more than ants.

Several carcasses were stuck onto mighty skewers and leaned over the intense flames. Many people were spearing, swivelling and rubbing sweet smelling pastes underneath the carcasses’ thick skin. The father turned to his daughter, sending her a warm smile. "I must meet with Hard-Arm," Old-Mind told her gently. "You should come. The more experience you gain, the better a leader you will be."

Fierce-Heart scrunched up her features and shook her head. "Not tonight, father. I've had enough of tribe politics for one day," she huffed. He let out a loud, chesty laugh.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he tugged her into a tight embrace and planted his chin on top of her head. "I understand," he chuckled, and she returned his hug tightly. Through his chest she could hear the steady thrumming of his heart. "Go and relax, you have earned it." Releasing him, she smiled and bounded off towards the raging fire.

As she trotted towards the flames, her ears detected a sharp hiss in the air. Snapping her head to one side, she caught sight of an object hurtling towards her head. Before she knew what was happening, her hand caught the object between two fingers. Bringing the object closer to her eyes, she carefully inspected it. It was a small bone knife engraved with dents and scratches. The end was rounded and blunt. If it had hit her, it would have only left her with a headache. Scanning her surroundings, she caught sight of two young boys staring at her with wide eyes from a fair distance away. Their dark, choppy hair fell in front of their foreheads and their juvenile, curving cheeks were tinged with red.

Walking over to them, she took in a deep breath. Before she had even reached them, they both folded themselves over into a low bow. "I-I am sorry, it was I who threw the knife," one of them stuttered.

Fierce-Heart reached her hand out and offered the weapon back to him. "It's alright, but you shouldn't be practicing so close to the village centre". Her tone scolded them lightly. The boy tilted his head up and delicately reached out to pluck the knife from her hands. The two slowly straightened up.

"Lesson learned," they replied in unison.

With a warm smile, she returned on her path to the fire. Behind her back, she heard one of them mutter, "you almost hit the Chieftain’s daughter!" There was a pitch of warm excitement in his voice. Her smile fell ever so slightly, but she kept her head down and continued away from them.

Later that night, Fierce-Heart found herself silently observing her tribe. Seated at the base of a thick tree, she watched their gleeful faces as they huddled in groups together. A loud chatter filled the air as they shared stories and tales. A few animals were bounding about between the tight spaces and around the fire. She could spot two leopard cubs rolling on the floor, gnawing at each other's paws. The fire was still burning strong, but the carcasses it roasted were little more than bone and cartilage, valuable resources in their own right. At her feet, a greasy leaf held the remains of her dinner, a few stringy clumps of fat.

Despite the meagre smile on her face, she felt completely disconnected from her tribe's people. Beyond craft and status, she knew so extraordinarily little about so many of them. There was large majority of whose names she didn’t even know. There wasn't ever time. Between training to be Chieftain, tending her duties as the second in line and honing her hunting skills, there was hardly ever a moment to spare for socialisation. Letting out a weary breath, she drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She rested her chin atop her knees. How was she ever supposed to lead a people she knew nothing about?

In truth, she wished she had been born to a family of simple tribes folk. Then, she could have focused her sights only on becoming a hunter. There was nothing more thrilling than chasing a fleeing animal through the thick underbrush of the jungle. The very thought bolstered her spirits. Although she may end up carrying the weight of the tribe on her shoulders, at least she would never lose the thrill of the hunt.

A continuous monkey scream rang through the air. Fierce-Heart lifted her head. A hush fell over the tribe. It took her a moment to decipher which alarm was sounding, but the moment she did her heart leapt into her mouth. Springing to her feet, she raised her hands to her mouth and roared. "Everyone to defensive positions, we are under attack!"

Everyone sprang into action, swarming like angry bees. Several people leapt into the air, transposing mid-flight into their respective animals. Fierce-Heart pushed through the shifting crowds and stopped before a particularly tall and thick tree. Worn and weathered foot holes were carved into its rough surface. Swiftly, she used them to scale the height of the tree.  The trunk forked out into three wide branches, creating a nest-like structure into which she squatted. Narrowed eyes scanned the cramped underbrush, her ears trained to hear even the smallest rustling or snapping. The camp behind her was completely empty. All the children were concealed in the highest layers of the forest. A deathly silence rung through the air. Fierce-Heart waited with bated breath. Nothing shifted in her vision.

Just when she was beginning to think it might be a false alarm, something hard and heavy collided with the back of her head. This threw her weight forwards, sending her toppling out of her perch and plummeting towards the ground below, pain throbbing in her skull. There wasn't enough time to reorient herself before she hit the solid floor below.