Content Warning: A brief mention of self-harm is present in this chapter.
...
"Thanks for the new duds," Mourning Crow spun in her new white thermo-veil. We also bleached her loincloth and left the clunky belt at home.
The Convergence festivities were commencing and we decided to make the most of the morning and stroll the busy streets of the city.
"It suits you," I swept a lock of Mourning Crow's prismatic hair behind her ear.
"What the fuck is that thing?" A large brown and green male yautja thundered at my mate. The mark on his forehead identified him as a member of Clan Ervo newly arrived from Yautja Prime.
"My mate and your death if you refer to her as a thing once again," I snarled back.
The large brown male stomped forward and flicked his mandibles in my face. I outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds and I saw him give a double take on my pectoral brand marking me as the most recent Nexus Champion.
"I expect," a lanky yellow yautja from the all-female Clan Asepa interjected, grinning down at my mate. "She would only be here if she had the strength to cut you down."
The brown male broke his gaze with me and turned with an exhilarated chitter to the yellow yautja woman.
"Jahaa always delivers on the most delightful surprises," the woman stood nine-foot-tall with ten more towering female subordinates flanking her sides.
"I am Gezam of Clan Ervo," the brown male had completely forgotten about my mate and me.
"Silvu of Clan Asepa," the woman thrummed and narrowed her eyes seductively at Gezam.
I jutted my chin in a random direction at Mourning Crow and we took our leave. Best to avoid standing between hormonal magnetism whenever possible.
The city was sectioned off into various competitive activity zones, giving males ample opportunity to show off their physical attributes while simultaneously diffusing excess carnal energy. It also allowed inquiring females entertainment while inspecting Sahei's available inventory.
"She was shiny," Mourning Crow giggled looking back. "Asepa... that means Clan Nemesis, right?"
"Yes," I affirmed. "From the jungle and mountain planet Tecu."
And Ervo means Scourge from the big'ol original homeworld Prime," Mourning Crow stretched her arms wide. "I think I like Jahaa's translation best... Wraith!" She flexed her fingers up into a spooky spider crawl.
I chuckled a little, "It does have a nice ring."
A chorus of roars caught our attention.
"What's going on over there?" Mourning Crow's ear jerked up. "I hear hounds."
"Come," I led her through the crowd. "They're running the gauntlet."
It was an obstical course race exclusive to Yautja specialized in hunting with trained hounds.
"That's Clan Vasu," I pointed to a large grouping of men and women sporting matching forehead brands in the shape of a paw.
"Stalker!" Mourning Crow translated with a nod. "From the dry mountainous planet, Komis."
"Someone has been doing her reading," I flexed my mandibles proudly. "They win this competition every cycle, but the event allows our homegrown hunters to get a taste for new tactics."
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The Hunter's Song
Science FictionIn winning, she lost everything. Mourning Crow was kidnapped at age 13 and forced to compete in a 1000yr death match. She won the final showdown, and all it cost was everyone she loved. But that was all years ago before she finally broke free. Now s...