Roar, Lioness. Roar

Siege- Part 1

The sound of gunfire and minor explosives is thunderous and constant. In a large meeting tent, Trunk helps Latisha out of the studded leather slaver armor and into clothes more befitting a huntress of The Yellow Sun. Akemi, Dew and River sit in a corner finishing bowls of desert hawk stew. The smaller of the trio flinches at the occasional sound of greater explosions. Patch and Tick sit nearby, studying the wasters in their midst. Bianca sits cross-legged on the floor as Noftee braids her hair for battle. Both girls look older than Latisha remembers them, the former having put on muscle and the latter the plumpness of regular meals. There is a casual closeness to their interaction that speaks volumes. Verlaine cleans her rifle at a workbench in the back, quiet and apart from the others.

"I like what these new muscles do for your arms, huntress," Rebel says as she circles around Latisha and Trunk. "You almost look as good as me or this tall hunk of sinew," she purrs, pinching Latisha's bottom.

The other cats chuckle. It sounds like a shadow of their old selves, but her former pack is there beneath the sand.

"Don't worry, big guy," Rebel says, patting Trunk on the shoulder. "We don't bite."

"She's lying," Patch says. "She's half-feral and as likely to bite you as to kiss you."

Tick chuckles and even Verlaine cracks a smile. For a moment Patch slips into the old pattern.

"I like bites sometimes," Trunk admits, stunning everyone into silence.

"Oh, I really do like him, Latisha. Can we keep him?" Rebel remarks.

His eyes fill with a desperate longing. Latisha looks away rather than be smothered by the raw intensity.

"Of course we'll keep him," Verlaine grumbles. "He's tied to her so he's tied to us."

She and Rebel lock eyes, staring across the rift between them created by the months that have passed. The other women silently watch, sensing the awkwardness.

"That makes me happy," Trunk says, breaking the tension.

All the women laugh, long and heartily, an earnest release that makes Latisha feel more at home than the tall wooden walls.

Hadey and Red Anya enter as the laughter dies down. Hadey rushes over and shakes Latisha's hand like a friend just returned from a long trip. Overcome with feelings she's rarely experienced, Latisha hugs her fellow huntress and greets her as sister. Red Anya only has eyes for Trunk. She glares at the big man until he shrinks away to sit with Dew.

"Hail, Red Anya," Latisha greets.

"Hail, Latisha." Her words are cold and borderline hostile.

"Now's not the time to start cutting," Bianca says. She puts her arm over Noftee's shoulder as the tongueless girl sits beside her.

"Mind your own business, child," Anya snaps.

"Mind your tongue, waster." She shrugs at the outsiders. "No offense."

"Are you going to make me?" Anya snarls, her calloused hands going to her punching daggers.

"I would, but, as I said, now's not the time to start cutting each other. There's plenty of wasters to kill outside. Again, no offense."

Red Anya takes a step forward, but Hadey's hand on her arm keeps her from going any further.

"Calm yourself, cat," she warns.

"We will speak later, Anya," Latisha finally says. "But know I owe you a sincere apology."

The others share shocked looks.