Bessa

Lessons ( 2 of 2 )

The female with black braids battles with fists that crush into the mass of females trying to pin her down. She doesn't ease up on her strength and ribs break like brittle bones in chest cavities.

A few hands find my face, a few hits find my body to groan out in pain. My own blood now stains the silk of my Lineage. Every hit I take I try to give two back, but they swarm me, trying to roll me on my back, pin me down. It's an effort to make my way closer to that teacher. She's not protected when I turn from the fighting to wrap my arms around her neck, a simple, quick snap and she falls to the floor.

Nothing moves, even breathing grows quieter.

"You need better instructors." Addressing the group, looking into the Luna's eyes. She ruffles herself up underneath her cocoon of skin, and I think I might have made a huge mistake. The Luna's eyes fall aways to regard the back of the room, she nods her head with a slide of teeth their way.

Three older females rise from the chairs they were sitting on. Frail bodies with hardened eyes bore into me.

"You will fight us from now on. We're finished for the day." The other female addresses the rest of the females. Fear settles in because they are without posturing, there is intended threat without the need to show their teeth.

When getting the plate, I leave a smudge of blood on the edge of it.

The Alpha's sound stretches itself until I shake with his force of volume he's using without speaking.

"This will be the last time you eat at this table." He's not looking at me, but at his firstborn.

"If you can't contribute to the table then Bessa can't take from the table." He watches his male, a condemnation in those eyes of the Alpha.

"Fill up your plate, Bessa." The Savage is getting closer, while I start to pile the plate high. The Healer, the lover of crows, gives me a slice of pie, a big piece that is almost the size of the plate itself.

"This is called Rhubarb pie. Enjoy it." She gives me a smile without teeth. Her blue eyes hold the color of the ocean that clings to shallows of the coral reefs.

Eating the pie with one hand before we even make it to the house, stretches my stomach. He leads us to the back door, swinging away from the front. How long will it take for the carrion eaters to pick apart all the flesh from her face?

Placing the plate on the table, he regards it before looking away.

"Save some of it for tomorrow. I have to go hunting now. I have something for you to do when I'm gone."

"What is it?" Asking cautiously.

"There are pinecones everywhere around the house. Pick the good ones off the ground and get the nuts from them. Put them in a pile I have some cedar wood saved to make a box. I'll make a box to hold them."

"Show me how." Stepping outside following him. Anything to keep busy enough from thinking too hard.

Showing me the pinecones, he picks up a flat piece of slate stone setting it by the back door. Wiping it off he begins to smack the cone against it, and small nuts fall out that is wrapped in a translucent skin. He then breaks apart the pinecone for any that haven't fall out.

"Put them on the counter and make sure there are no cracks or bugs because it will ruin the storage of them."

Labour intensive day passes the time, gathering the nuts, smacking them on the flat rock. Cracking the cone over and over again to yield a very modest harvest, but it's still a harvest.