The Many Misadventures of Bo

Home

What makes anything a home, really? It's where you feel safe, cherished, a place you can always return to, and back before everything began, I considered the Hinnom Forest my home.

But I'm sure you already figured that out. What you don't know is that I didn't spend every moment there. Sure, we kept to ourselves after that nasty bit of business with Ethaba and later, Tribe Anshi, but that doesn't mean we never left the forest.

Quite the opposite, or did you think the more delicate components of our quirns self-manifested in the jungle . . . ?

Wow. Okay. I can tell the answer to that question from the looks on people's faces. Let me set you straight.
---

"Just two more days," Bo remarked to Nyss and Rajan as they stared down at the mist shrouded greenery far below. He patted the leather satchel with its precious contents. "Two more days and I'll have my very own quirn."

And then he'd almost be ready for Igis. His rounded ears would sharpen into soft points, his fangs would lengthen, and the fur around his eyes would darken when in klia'an form. He'd pass the trials and finally be considered a full member of Tribe Osinan. Ken and Seri had already fashioned their quirns but used up the last rare minerals essential in their creation in the process, and a trading party had been sent to replenish the weapons' vital components.

"Still surprised Nyss let you come along," Rajan said, shifting smoothly into s'hinoian form and padding noiselessly down the rocky mountain face. Bo followed suit, trusting four legs to keep him more balanced on the steep terrain than two.

"Our little brother isn't a kit anymore." Nyss brushed by Rajan and gave Bo a gently affectionate headbutt. "And he'll respect his quirn that much more, knowing the time and effort spent acquiring everything that goes into building one."

Bo nodded, recalling the days of travel over the mountains and across the deadlands before coming upon the perpetually stormy S'hrahshah Sea. He and his brothers had camped out in a frix proof tent, huddled around a tiny fire for warmth, next to twenty other klia'ans while they waited for the head of their trading party to finish negotiations. They'd almost not made it in time, the Pikhn'yns having started to unmoore their ships and prepare to set sail when they arrived. But once matters were settled, everyone had unpacked and set up a makeshift market, spending a week haggling over goods and prices.

Bo himself had made some rather fetching bargains, he thought, trading chishish-vine rope for the tiny metal joints and ball bearings his brothers had advised he get. One by one he'd marked off each component that would eventually form his quirn, wandering from stall to stall and drawing his cloak tightly about him to protect from the chill.

No one shifted while on the rocky shore with its sharp stones and tiny tide pools filled with deadly sea life.

"The water's not good to drink in any case," Nyss had warned as they strolled along the shore in the evenings. "But there's hard shelled creatures in there that will spike you and kill you before you even feel the sting. Best keep your boots on and stay on two feet."

The weather had become horribly gloomy by the time they left, all the members of Tribe Osinan glancing anxiously at the frix charged sky every few minutes. Bo had wondered whether they'd be able to outrun the storms moving in from across the Sea. But all the trades had been satisfactorily completed in time, and the Pikhn'yns had left laden with buckets of Hinnom Sap, while Tribe Osinan had become rather rich in metals and circuitry and welding tools.

But neither Nyss nor Rajan let Bo even attempt to piece together the lightweight quirn he'd dreamed of crafting for years, urging him to have patience until he reached home and could seek Elder Irjah's guidance.

And now they were close – so close he could almost feel his fingers closing around the quirn already.

He could hardly wait. To have his own weapon, to pass Igis, to start hunting or patrolling or scouting. Maybe he'd even use the lightweight staff to defend the Hinnom Forest if the humans who'd resettled Ethaba ever dared to bother Tribe Osinan. Bo pictured a hundred human soldiers being knocked off their feet by a concentrated burst of Frix and chuckled to himself.

Oh yes. There were so many reasons for him to get back to the forest and start working on his designs right away. Bo picked up the pace, pushing ahead of the party and practically racing down the mountains. They were so close to home and the beginning of the rest of his life. Was there anything more exciting in all the world?

---

Oh, I was naïve back then, wasn't I? Still, it was a haven, a sanctuary, a place untouched by human greed and I had no reason to think any different.

Now, who wants to see how my quirn works?

(Of course I brought it, I'm in a building full of humans—my sol wasn't gonna be enough.

Please, they've been nervous the whole time. That wasn't gonna change if I had nothing but my fangs and claws.

No, I'm not telling how many weapons I have on me right now. We've only got a few minutes left in here anyway.)