It was during prayer day when they gathered the whole tribe, all of the thousands togethers. All three kings were for the first time in decades seen standing together. Their voices rang as one across the cave. It echoed off every wall and reverberated through the passages. Thei voices melted and merged into one. I hardly remember the words they said. I only understood the meaning.
They spoke of the encroaching threat of the northern tribes. The constant raids and attacks upon the posts. How catch-containers were being ripped right out the claws of hunters. I had experienced a similar encounter. I had fought back and was able to defend my catch-container as I only had a single assailant. It was no longer safe to hunt alone. Panic was flooding the tribe.
The kings spoke many comforting words. Yet, I did not feel comforted. Neither did Thill. Nor Larti. We would have to go back out. Face the same threats.
It was the first snow of winter when they came. The howls and shrieks filled the caverns. They came in the middle of the day. The first caverns were completely overrun. However, the sounds of screams travel faster than they can be silenced and before long, the whole tribe was awake.
I woke up and scrambled to look at what was happening. Bats were flying through the caves and dropping like stones through the air. The smell of blood was heavy and the glint of metal flashed off the flickering braziers.
I grabbed my wing blades and quickly strapped them on. I tore through my closet and found what I was looking for. An old lizard skin sparring vest I used to wear when I practiced fights with my Father. I quickly put it on and rushed outside. The entire Pallid clan was in an uproar. Half the clan were warriors to begin with and they had quickly taken hold of the situation.
A wild bat dove down, battle claws flashing. I dove just underneath them and flicked my wing up to catch the tail of the northern bat and cut its tail clean in half. The bat shrieked and threw himself at me.
I bared my fangs at the bat and it turned into a crapping match, battle claws and wing blades trying to tear into flesh. I rolled on top of him and bit into his neck and tore it open. I spat his fur from my mouth and looked for my brother. I spotted him tearing his wing blades into the neck of a bat. Father was burying his battle claws deep into the chest of another bat.
I spotted Larti with a pair of short battle blades strapped on her thumbs slicing apart the flesh of red bats. That seemed to cause more pain than actual damage.
When the attack was finally over, there were massive casualties everywhere. Hundreds of bats were dead and injured. Per Pallid custom, we tended to the wounded. Those of the enemy we finished off. Once we had cleared our region of the battle, we stripped them of their equipment and began to split the loot.
I took from the enemies I had slain. I took the leather chestpiece of the bat that was much nicer than my previous one. A pair of full steel wing blades that made my old ones look like the toys of a child. These were vicious and terrifyingly beautiful. A steel flight helmet. A pair of battle claws.
"It has been a long time since the Pallid Clan tasted blood. It is good to taste blood." Father grinned. He looked fearsome with blood splattered across his entire being.
"It is good to return to our roots. I think it has been nearly a whole decade." Mother nodded. She was not as covered in blood. She wielded a bow that I had only seen in the desert before.
We were after all, not too long ago a tribe of desert raiders.
"Those cockscuking northeners." Latri spat. She had earned a new scar across her midriff.
She looked like a raging spearmaiden. Her eyes were fierce and cold. In her claws, she gripped a pair of long battle blades. She wore a light chestpiece and had an elegant helmet.
"Ditched those small thumb blades, did you?" I chuckled.
"And I see you lost that toy you called wing blades." She shot back. She softened slightly and in a manner which took me by surprise, sincerely said, "I'm glad to see you alive and still in one piece."
"Well, you should see the other guy." I laughed. "Who gave you the cut?"
"Some shrieking bitch. She got away when they called for a retreat." Latri spat at the ground.
"Pity."
"A great pity." She muttered. "Could you help me dress the wound? It aches something fierce."
"Aye." I nodded.
