A Ripple In The Sands

The thought of killing made Ripple sick inside. Not the physical kind of sick with pains and aches. No, she hated herself. She could do it easy, with no regrets, and it scared her. Since the assassination she had always wanted revenge, and tonight she would have it.

The sand crunched underfoot, signaling each new step. It's grain was pure white; she felt wrong walking on it, someone so flawed on something so flawless. To her right, the Grand Lake stretched to the horizon with glimmers of fading sunlight catching her eye every few steps. Waves lashed out of the surface in every direction, colliding with each other in a fit of water and foam. Ripple clenched her front paws as she walked, her four legs working in a sluggish rhythm. Nothing good ever came when the lake was angry, and she was living proof.

She hastened her pace, her hind paws kicking up a white haze in her wake. Traveling the beach was her best option. The sand kept her footfalls soft and unheard. If she was seen out this late, the entire tribe would know she killed Akita. Her chances of becoming the Alpha would be gone, and so would her life. The tribe would never forgive her. An akkord's life was sacred, and taking it was unheard of. Sure, they killed other creatures; bears, deer, even the occasional wolf. But they weren't sacred like her people.

Ripple glanced back as she ran and checked on her chord, almost a second tail. It wrapped itself around the brown of her tail, a black rope, afraid to let go. She always kept it that way. It gave her a sense of security knowing it would be harder to cut, harder to kill her.

With a shake of her head and a deep breath of the salty air, Ripple focused her attention forward again, towards her goal. Atop a large platform of wood stood the village only a few hundred strides away, constructed purely from the nearby trees. The logs were refined into dusty yellow planks giving off gentle glow from the few and scattered torches. They were far from enough to light the docks, and even further from making her feel safe.

Ripple swallowed hard and lowered her eyes to the ground as she ran. Safe, nobody was safe, and anybody who thought otherwise was a liar. That fantasy disappeared eleven years ago, along with her parents and her childhood. She giggled and closed her eyes a moment. Maybe she was going mad, maybe all the hatred had finally caught up with her. She was a member of the southern tribe, one with the unholy desire to kill: and it felt great.

Out of the shadows, something reached out and closed its paw around Ripples hind leg. Its grip was firm, pinching past her fur and into her skin. The paw jerked back.

Ripple hit the ground with her stomach, her front paws landing outreached in front of her. A haze of sand shot up from the impact and covered her. She snarled and pawed at tear filled eyes. The sand stung and scratched as she tried wipe it away. With a grunt, she placed her paws in the sand and shot back up to a stand. The grip on her leg was gone.

"Sis, is that you?"

One her hind paws, Rippled whipped around and saw him. Just a few fingers taller than her stood a brown furred akkord, he was Western. His orange paws shuffled in the sand, stirring it in small circles. The akkord looked at her with eyes of fire that, despite their strong color, were gentle. He sighed and looked at the sky, now canvas of black with only a few stars to give the moon company.

"Verac?" Ripple shuddered and closed her eyes. She didn't want to be seen like this, not even by her brother. In a few more minutes, she would be a killer. Verac wouldn't turn her in, no, they were too close. After eleven years of caring for her, feeding her, and even training her, Verac wouldn't give it all up. He knew just as well as her something had to be done. Akita had to die.

Verac looked back to her and took a step closer. "Listen, sis, I know what you're going to do." His ears flattened against his head. They were smooth, his whole body was, as if he slicked all his fur down with lakewater.