Leape

In which a fourteen-year-old negotiates war

11

Penn was hit back by the hare, his fall being cushioned by a snowdrift. Shooting up from the pile of snow—which, surprisingly, only came up to his middle—Penn looked around frantically, looking for the furry, white, fiend who had leapt into him, knocking him over.

Two deep brown eyes locked with Penn's own before the infernal creature blinked and disappeared into the snow-covered everything that was the forest.

Giving a grunt of annoyance, Penn struggled to stand up, before a gloved hand reached out to him. Deja vu? He wondered, looking up to see Lethia's sky-blue eyes watching him curiously. "Gettin' up, Leapus? Or am I going to have to hold out my hand forever?"

Quickly, Penn took her hand, the duo making an effort to haul him out of the snow. He brushed himself off quickly, giving a small shiver as a bit of snow melted under his shirt, the cold water chilling him to the bone.

Cayto's gaze flickered back to Penn from where he crouched behind a thicket, gazing forward at the camp of another tribe, where snow-covered huts stood, bluish smoke rising from a fire set in the center of the clearing. People milled around, skinning hides and doing their everyday work, the little ones playing casually, chasing each other around.

Penn watched, a small smile coming onto his face as he remembered his childhood with fondness when sudde— "And what might you be doing here, spying on the fox tribe camp?" Penn gave a small yelp, jumping up and trying to get out of whomever it was's grip, which was firmly on the hood of his pelt coat.

Polar spirits! My clothes finally did the Lethia thing! Penn stared into his captor's green eyes, icy and angry, boring into Penn's skull. His blond hair was short-cropped and hidden mostly under his heavy coat's hood. He had lifted Penn an inch off the ground, large frame menacing and strong, a scowl sewn deeply onto his face.

"Well!?" he demanded, bringing Penn's face closer to his own, to the point where Penn could smell the older boy's breath. "Uhmhnah—" Penn began, trying to explain as best as he could. Is that deer jerky!? I swear, that's deer jerky, isn't it!? The thought, accompanied by a snort from the Narrator, crossed his mind, the scent of the blond boy's breath wafting up to his nose.

Cayto dipped his head, making a Y shape with his fingers. "Esteemed hunter of fox tribe, we mean no harm, we simply mean to—" the fourteen-year-old fisherman was cut off by a scoff and an eye roll from one of the other hunters in the group.

"Enough with the formalities! We'll take you straight to Grandfather Krio straight away. He can decide what to do with you." The one who had spoken's voice was deep, his ebony hair shortly-braided hair hidden partially under his hood, dark eyes casting a hostile stare to the trio.

Cayto stepped back a bit, bumping into another hunter behind him, this one with sleek red hair, tucked behind his ears and a face smattered with freckles. He raised a brow at the fourteen-year-old, who quickly scrambled away.

"Let's go, then," said the one holding Penn's coat, still lifting him off the ground, if only ever so slightly. A sigh came from Cayto, who held out his wrists as if to be handcuffed.

The one holding Penn's coat scoffed. "We don't bind and capture our captives—they go willingly or die." Lethia raised a brow at this, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, an air of disbelief about her.

"Really, Lithander. You would kill a human? The Code forbids it."

Snark edged the deep-voiced one, who gave a roll of his dark brown eyes. "Look who's talking, the little girl who trespassed onto sovereign Fox Tribe territory."