"The youngling has been spoken to by her triad," Senator Night Rain explained.
"She is not to blame," Shale raised his palm and shook his long quills. "My orders were clear, no trophies were to be worn. The yautja in error has been reprimanded."
"Oh," the Senator touched her lips. "I hope not too harshly. Carnival is inherently lively. I'm surprised this was the only incident reported."
"The yautja lives and he feels the sting of his lost spoils," Shale held his head high. "But he disobeyed the orders of his Alpha. Command must be upheld."
"I understand," Senator Night Rain made a courtly nod.
"In the future," Shale added. "We intend to incorporate a non-invasive coating to better protect our trophies from unintentional bites or at the very least an additive to make our trophies unappetizing to razkurs."
"That would help," the Senator giggled. "The skulls really are the tastiest part."
It was the final day of Carnival and the Day of First Light, and every important razkur across all of Menthla had made the pilgrimage to Karwarak to meet the Abura and partake in the First Encounter Summit.
Everything in the spacious ballroom felt vertical. From the neon swirled glass sculptures, to the tall Okli flowers hanging down from the ceiling to brighten the upper half of the gala hall into gradient shades of white and pink, all the way down to geometric patterns carved into crystalline floors.
There was an assortment of bones stacked into a pluckable frame shaped like the skeleton of a walking Coyo for the razkur delegates to pick and pull from and a wall-length spread of roasted lamb and beef for the yautja. The organizers also opted to forego seated tables and instead speckled the room with small luminescent hovering table tops and added a notably large amount of gossamer red fabric draped between the ceiling flowers and along the walls.
Eh'kt was off in front of the wall of windows framing the midday city. He was encircled by a mass of medical professionals and scientists recently arrived from various city-states. His head bobbed with his long quill in full sway and his eyes were electric. From the pep in his gestures, he wasn't struggling to focus in the same manner that I was.
How are either of them even standing?
I turned to Shale standing tall with Senator Night Rain and several other razkur city-state leaders. His voice rumbled through the ballroom even with the additional echo dampeners built into the architecture.
I was certain the other yautja could smell what we had been up and I suspected the razkurs were aware as well.
I wasn't terribly concerned with anyone else's opinions of our bonding but I couldn't ignore the potential impact it might have on our mission.
Ni Eh'kt's will never falter in their duty... hmm...
I'm going to need a different word... maybe there's a more fitting word in the yautja language...
"He was always skilled but after the vanishing his music shifted drastically," Senator Night Rain hushed herself as I approached. "Forgive me, Mourning Crow, is it all right if I bring up your father?"
"It's still weird to hear lawmakers talk about him like he's a war hero," I flexed my fingers together. "But I'd like to know more about the context of his later work."
"Right after the event," Senator Night Rain spoke to me. "Our world was on the verge of spiraling into belligerent hate. People were desperate for anyone or anything to blame. Then the mourners heard your father. It began with him singing alone by the hole, then the crowds began to gather. He refused payment and instead reverted to the old ways our people used before we arrived on the surface and adopted useless influences leftover from the Iddril."
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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...