ã€ŠGuardians by Design - Landã€‹


 Prologue: A Leaderless Herd

    ¡°You know we need to depart before the pack closes in, Jin,¡± Hanla said. She was tall and thin for a cow, famished from lack of food during the inhospitable months of winter. Her motherly instinct had always persuaded her to pass on patches of grass she found, either to elderly bison that needed help uncovering food from the thick layer of ice and snow that blanketed the valley, or to red dogs ¨C the adolescence of their species ¨C that had not yet learned to dig through snow.

    Her horns were longer, yet more narrow than a bull¡¯s, and curved outwards at the top. Hanla¡¯s fur had never turned a completely dark brown, but instead retained a reddish tint from her younger years. As this was quite unique for her species, she had earned the nickname ¡®Red Cow¡¯.

    ¡°To leave this place now would interrupt the feeding cycle, Hanla. Let me lead my herd. Your input is not valued here,¡± Jin, the sturdy bull replied. A long beard hung from his face, nearly brushing the ground as it swayed in the frigid wind. Multiple runes decorated the thick, sturdy horns atop his head, each representing a separate year that the bison had acted as leader for the herd.

    Dahj stood beside his mother, witnessing her facial expression turn from anxious to angry. Merely an adolescent, Dahj did not believe he had any influence over the decision making of the herd leader, so he held his tongue. At this age his fur was still gradually turning from a copper red to the common deep brown of the bison. His coat was still quite thin ¨C barely adequate for the winter ¨C and his chin still lacked a beard. Perhaps it would begin to sprout during the following spring.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you feel that way now, Jin,¡± Hanla said, voice shaking. ¡°You have typically valued my mate and I¡¯s advice in the past.¡±

    ¡°Your mate¡­ got himself and nearly half the herd killed from his last piece of advice,¡± Jin said with a hiss. Muscular and tall, he towered over Dahj. The bull had thick, curly fur covering nearly his entire body; quite appropriate for winter. The fur on his face had grown so bushy that it was beginning to impair his vision. It overlapped parts of his wet, beady eyes, socketed within drooping eyelids.

    ¡°Crossing that river was our only option! We were behind on our schedule. You know the river¡¯s water level was higher than normal at that time of year. It should have been crossable, just like any other year,¡± Hanla replied, raising her voice. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re going to hold the death of Dahj¡¯s father against me in a time like this!¡± She stamped her front right hoof into the frozen soil, sending debris flying to either side.

    ¡°We will not interrupt the rotation. Abandoning this area would be a waste. There is still plenty of food here,¡± Jin said sternly. Strings of snot flung into the air before instantly freezing to the surface of his nose in the bitter cold.

    ¡°To leave now means we will arrive at the next grounds too early. We would need to utilize every last blade of grass for the herd to get their fill before moving again. It¡¯s quite simple, and why we visit the same places, at the same time, every year¡­¡± Steam billowed from the bull¡¯s massive nostrils from huffing in frustration, creating a brilliant white cloud that reflected in the moonlight.

    ¡°They know we¡¯re here. In an open field. Vulnerable, exposed. Every day they push in¡­ prodding, exposing weak spots,¡± Hanla¡¯s voice shook. ¡°Three more red dogs this week. Dragged away in the night. How many of the next generation must be sacrificed before you acknowledge the threat of our predators?¡±

    Jin fell silent. He turned back to the herd wearing an expression that displayed hopelessness. He seemed to at least be considering the spontaneity-fueled plan while gazing at his family that slept in the frosted grasses of the valley beneath the vast night sky.

    Snow accumulated on the back of the animals, as well as the field ¨C slowly shading it from deep green to sparkling white as they stubbornly waited out the stalemate. Hanla grimaced at the ironic metaphor of the sands of time that were instead quickly slipping away.

    ¡°Running will never counter a threat; it just invigorates them. Our only option is to stand our ground and fight,¡± Jin said over his shoulder. ¡°Fear is their best weapon, aside from the teeth.¡±

    ¡°At this time of year? Can you even begin to fathom the amount of energy would be burned attempting to fight a pack of predators? They are going to trap us here. Wait until we weaken. Energy spent on fleeing or fighting, we will quickly starve. Meanwhile, they are feasting on our young and sickly. Our species is not built for this, especially during the final feed of early winter,¡± Hanla pleaded.

    ¡°We are digging our own grave unless we leave. Right now.¡± The cow shook the mounding snow from her back. It fell in powdery sheets to the knee-deep layer that blanketed the ground with a soft thump. Large, stubborn clumps that had remained frozen to her pelt resembled large cotton balls that had been sewn on.

    ¡°Hanla. You must understand, there is a reason you have never been elected to be a leader,¡± Jin said bluntly. ¡°Never even an assistant leader. You act under impulse. Frantically. You make these rash decisions, under the midnight moonlight, without considering conditions before you, or any kind of long-term consequences.

    Hanla froze. Her jaw quivered as she desperately attempted to begin a rebuttal.

    ¡°Your mate was a great assistant leader. He was charismatic; the herd responded well to that trait. However, he demonstrated hasty decision making as well¡­ which is why he is no longer with us,¡± Jin continued, voice low. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. To leave now would not be wise in the long run. Late winter will claim the herd. I am denying your request and ordering you not bring it up again. We will face threats that come towards us head-on.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°So instead we die now instead of giving us a chance of making it further through winter!¡± Hanla shouted through tears at the massive bison lumbering away. His beard swayed in the frigid air.

    Dahj looked to the horizon. His legs had seemed to grow longer and more awkward by the day, causing him to sway slightly even when standing still. Dahj had been born later in the year than the average bison, and though his legs had grown like weeds, fall had already claimed sustenance the red dog needed to fill out his frame.

    Lining the distant ridgeline was the silhouettes of at least a dozen coyote heads. They patiently observed the resting herd. Coyotes typically hunted in packs, but this one was particularly large. Sticking to the outskirts, they would identify the weak or young before moving in, shrouded in darkness.

    ¡°We leave tonight,¡± Dahj said to his mother. ¡°The herd knows of the looming threat. Even if we have not discussed it openly, they can feel it.

    ¡°They¡¯ll¡­ never listen to us. Not without Jin¡¯s word,¡± his mother replied, stuttering. She hung her head as she wept into the blanket of powder she stood in.

    ¡°We will persuade who we can. Others will surely follow,¡± Dahj stated with haste before proceeding towards the sleeping herd.

    ***

    Awkwardly stumbling through a consistently building layer of show, Dahj proceeded towards his herd of bison petrified in snow. Mounds were hard to distinguish between knolls of dirt or an animal blanketed in the light powder. Those he identified to be elders, pressed tightly against their young for warmth, would be roused delicately. Minds clouded from sleep, many had difficulty immediately recognizing the threat Dahj was attempting to bring their attention to. He pointed out the pack of coyotes on the ridgeline, explaining the importance of tonight¡¯s sudden transition in grounds.

    Red dogs nestled next to their mothers perked up their heads to listen to Dahj, but had not yet learned urgency in stressful situations. They would lie back down on the frozen ground, or begin pacing in the middle of the night to look for food. One that had been born the same year as Dahj simply attempted to play with him out of excitement that he had come to visit.

    ¡°Coyotes?¡± a cow shrieked as she leapt up from her resting place, disturbing those who slept around her. Snow cascaded from her back as she violently removed the frigid blanket. She nearly kicked her own calf in the head, drawing the attention of the rest of the camp and sending many into a similar state of panic.

    The commotion caught Jin¡¯s attention.

    Dahj the skinny red dog attempted to calm the howling cow before she caused a stampede. He was too young to have a way with words, making his efforts futile.

    ¡°You do not have authority to make these calls, young one!¡± Jin¡¯s voice boomed through the valley, causing the panicking cows to halt.

    Dahj cowered in fear as the rest of the herd rose to their feet, sleepily investigating the cause of the commotion.

    ¡°Jin, you know we need to leave. Tonight,¡± Dahj said, projecting to the herd.

    ¡°I have never been one to back down, and that will not change on this night!¡± the leader called in front of his audience, attempting to rally.

    ¡°Then blood will be spilled as a result of your decision to hold this ground. It will soon be a graveyard!¡± Dahj called back. ¡°Those who value your life and want to see the next generation would do wise to follow me!¡± he shouted, defiantly turning back to his mother.

    ¡°You¡¯re just like your father,¡± Jin said. ¡°And you will perish in the same manner!¡±

    This offended many. The wound was still fresh; it was too soon for the leader to be bringing up the death of a herd mate they had held so dearly. Some of the shocked cows joined Dahj¡¯s side to show comfort and support of his word.

    Hanla looked to the sky as dense clouds moved between the moon and the earth¡¯s surface, darkening the valley. Her heart sank, fearful of visibility suffering during the escape should they lose what little moonlight they had.

    Dahj turned to face a dense group of bison, quietly huddled where they had been sleeping. ¡°We move southwest. Tonight! We will follow the path of my father, where food is plen¨C¡±

    Jin charged him, pummeling the lanky red dog to the ground. Rocks and debris that felt hardened from the frost scraped the side of Dahj¡¯s face as he fell. Cold air stung his tiny lacerations. Warm blood that trickled from his wounds froze to his face and matted his fur immediately.

    ¡°Your father was a failure!¡± Jin shouted, standing over the young bison.

    The herd mates gasped.

    Dahj¡¯s joints felt seized in place from the impact. He struggled to push himself back to a standing position. Those loyal to Jin gathered at his side, creating protection. Others scattered frantically in the midst of the violent act. Dahj¡¯s mother helped him to his feet and stood between him and Jin. The ominous outline of many coyotes roused as they witnessed the herd turn against each other. This was a prime window for an attack.

    ¡°I will not standby as your decisions cull the herd. Send your own sheep to the slaughter. I will not be part of it!¡± Hanla shouted.

    Dahj limped behind his mother, following her southwest. He rubbed his bloodied chin against the leaves of a rigid sagebrush, leaving behind specks of blood tufts of fur. Occasionally, various small groups of bison would break away from the herd, tails raised to follow as they recognized the group of coyotes growing closer. In turn, the coyotes recognized the thinning of the herd and closed distance.

    ¡°There will just be another threat! You can¡¯t spend your life running!¡± Jin called, still surrounded by the guards that had been loyal enough to remain at his side. His facial expression had turned from stern and aggressive to shocked and desperate in the unexpected outcome of the herd¡¯s abandonment. Violence was never way to sway a herd, yet in a last-ditch-effort, the leader had tried anyway.

    Cackles and barks rang through the night air as the coyotes communicated an attack. Red dogs that had been separated in the confusion were taken first; easily tackled and eviscerated by multiple coyotes. Mothers watched and shouted from a distance before retreating to the fleeing group.

    The guards stomped their hoofs and shook heads as the snow and pressure of the approaching predators mounded upon their shoulders. Bits of hail mixed with wet snow bounced off the hides of the stubborn bulls that stood fast in the exposed terrain. A frigid wind picked up with a light whistle as Jin and his guards found themselves surrounded.

    Dahj, his mother, and the herd watched from a ridgeline as the coyotes attacked. Barking, yelping, and snapping, multiple coyotes clung to Jin despite the bull¡¯s attempts to throw the ravenous animals from his hide. Quickly losing blood, he fell to the pack. Retreating guards had their ankles disabled from coyotes that tore at their Achilles¡¯ tendon as they caught up with the fleeing beasts. Blood from both coyote and bison glistened in the moonlight, streaked across the dense blanket of winter.

    No longer able to watch, the herd continued to move towards the next resting area through the night. Dahj stomach growled from within his protruding ribs as he trudged beside his desperate mother.

 Chapter 1: Leading the Herd

    Years Later

    ¡°The predator¡¯s appetite rises, as does the temperature of the valley, Dahj. No longer encumbered by winter¡¯s chill, the threat closes in,¡± Grentat, Dahj¡¯s assistant leader, said over the bison¡¯s shoulder.

    Dahj trudged with heavy steps through the resurrecting valley, continually chewing cud of fresh spring flora. Winter¡¯s curtains had finally been fully drawn about two weeks prior; exactly enough time for the herd to return to the northern region they called home. Spring had prepared generously for the herd¡¯s arrival like a hospitable host ¨C offering a bounty of food and warmer climates. The bright season had happily replaced all of which its severe sibling had taken away.

    ¡°We go through this every year, Grentat,¡± Dahj said out of the side of his full mouth. He paused for a moment to savor a small yellow flower he had uprooted in his most recent bite. ¡°And every year, I tell you the same thing. We keep moving. We defend only when approached. Otherwise, we ignore the packs and stick to our rotation.¡±

    Grentat grunted and pressed further with his unsettling intel. ¡°Three ¨C just this week. Rond; fallen to a mountain lion. Zenlyn; dragged away by an unrelenting force of rabid wolves. Embua; found herself between a mother grizzly and her young. All stoic defenders¡­ They were warriors, Dahj.¡±

    Dahj stalled a rebuttal to take a deep breath. Grinding away efficiently while moving, the bison grazed down to the roots of every blade and stalk he passed over. Bite, step, bite, step; a line of severed grasses was left in his wake of green. ¡°You know this is a critical time of year, Gren. We have just returned to our annual feeding grounds. They are lush and satiating ¨C once depleted, we will move to the next. Consistency breeds prosperity.¡±

    Dahj was steadfast in his statements ¨C his plan was always the same. Food was abundant and snowmelt provided a seemingly endless supply of refreshing, ice-cold water in the form of rushing rivers and streams throughout the landscape. Resources were not unlimited, however, and relied greatly on the short, forgiving months of the year.

    Marked by a paint derived from reddish-brown mud and bark shavings of a red cedar, the runes Dahj displayed on his sides and shoulders represented his herd ¨C The Kleecloks. Designs carved into his horns each signified his years of leadership. Having accepted the position at a young age, he was quickly running out of room across the surface of his sturdy horns for additional hash marks.

    He gazed at the barren mountain tops that created a jutted horizon. Each of them unique, rigid, and inhospitable. From this distance, Dahj could picture himself standing on the very tip of the grand mountain¡¯s highest peaks. With the perception of their size, he was convinced that he could perch his entire body atop their summits if he were to bring all four of his hooves together. Assuming their smallest point was about the size of a large leaf, it would take a great amount of balance and focus to hold himself up. Traits a species of his size did not possess. Besides, the task of scaling one of the giants seemed to be daunting enough.

    ¡°We live a templated life. We eat, we move, we eat again, then we reproduce. We conserve as much energy as we can and we wait out the winters ¨C our second greatest enemy,¡± Dahj said, maintaining eye contact on the highest peak of the region. The thought of climbing it exhausted him ¨C it would be easier to just keep eating... ¡°To defy the template will only cull the herd. I have been doing this for generations, Gren. I might just know what I¡¯m talking about.¡±

    ¡°They will never relent. Not until we demonstrate our strength!¡± Grentat said gruffly. He huffed with force through his gaping nostrils and stamped a fore hoof into the ground, scraping at grasses and moist dirt. His displays of aggression were a terrible waste of food.

    Dahj turned to the prideful adolescent. Grentat¡¯s eyes protruded from his skull with frustration. He worried Gren¡¯s eyelids would be unable to fully blanket the bulging balls in their current state. ¡°Heh. I appreciate your tenacity, Gren, but that strategy has been attempted in the past. Before your time. We are not a species bred for battle. We have been gifted with great size and sturdy horns ¨C for defensive purposes only. To constantly seek battle is a tremendous investment of energy that we need to reserve for winter. Hunting¡­ death. Predators¡­ prey. It¡¯s the cycle of life that nature has orchestrated since¡­ always! Sure, we may be the victims, but we need to focus on other methods of survival that don¡¯t include chasing packs of coyotes throughout the forests.¡±

    Now middle-aged, Dahj had taken a more passive approach to leadership. Previous experiences had taught him that aggression and suppression will not sway a herd. It was always best to keep the herd together and move as one; a technique passed down from his father.

    Head down, Dahj was suddenly shoulder-checked by a herd-mate that mindlessly droned his way through the valley, breaking the leader¡¯s attention to his rich meal. A cloud of fine dust lingered in the air from the friction of their matted pelts scraping against one another. Eyelids lazily hanging nearly closed, the bull unapologetically plowed through the field, gorging himself on the abundance of spring¡¯s bounty.

    This is why they need a leader, Dahj thought. He shook loose dirt from his back and sides. Without one, they would devour only the most convenient regions until depletion.

    ¡°The cycle of life at work¡­¡± Dahj grunted and gestured towards the hungry bull.

    ¡°So that¡¯s what we are? What our species is? Just part of a cycle of eating and being eaten?¡± Grentat inquired. He let out a loud grunt that resembled a scoff. Strings of snot flew from his wet nose. ¡°Is that why we¡¯re here? To fatten ourselves up to provide a banquet for the predators?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re misinterpreting the message, Gren. All creatures rely on what the land can provide. Grass is alive; does that make us ruthless predators taking advantage of a helpless creature?¡± Dahj asked sternly. ¡°I never said we¡¯re just supposed to roll over and be part of some kind of ¡®food chain¡¯. We will do what we can to resist and thrive regardless of the escalading threat. However, going out of our way to kill another creature will not solve our struggles.¡±

    Grentat looked as if he wanted to retort again, but was interrupted by an elder cow that approached the pair.

    ¡°Dahj, the red dogs are ready for your instruction¡­¡± said the cow. Still famished from winter, loose, extra belly skin hung from protruding ribs. Her fur was a dull, copper red. It seemed her coat had never full transitioned in color from her younger years. Two stout horns grew vertically from her head before slightly curving outwards at the top.

    ¡°Thank you, mother ¨C I will be there shortly,¡± Dahj acknowledged.

    As Hanla walked away, Dahj turned back to his frustrated friend. ¡°We stick to the plan,¡± he said bluntly. ¡°It has worked every other year, and it will work this year.¡±

    ***

    Some time later

    ***

    Dahj awoke to the light of noon¡¯s sun penetrating his eyelids. Before opening his eyes, or taking a deep breath, he instantly felt the stiffness of his muscles strain throughout his entire body. Like a bedridden patient awakening after a millennium of rest, his joints felt petrified from lack of movement. Build-up of lactic acid prevented him from immediately moving any of his limbs. Lying on his back, stings of pain shot across his sides and under his ribs, through his legs and over his shoulder. He had never been one to sleep on his back, as it was generally impossible for his species. The exaggerated hunch of his spine caused this to be a tremendously uncomfortable position to lay in.

    Teeth and eyelids clenched, he sat upright with a massive groan. As he lifted his back, long strands of grasses that had blanketed his arms, chest, and neck were uprooted in the pull, stuck to his pelt as if growing from it. Leaves and dirt cascaded from his face and chest into his lap and onto the ground below. Underneath him, a patch of moist soil ¨C once protected from the elements by his body ¨C was now exposed in the exact shape of his frame. Small worms writhed in the nutrient-dense dirt. Insects scattered and attempted to flee; returning to the cover of overlapping grasses for protection.

    He gasped as the air was taken from his lungs from rolling his body into a sitting position. The movement felt odd ¨C a function he had never performed before. First inspecting his forearms, he froze upon lifting them before his face. The hunch of his spine had caused his hands to meet his head with minimal effort.

    Dumbfounded by the physical state of his hooves, he found that both sides had split directly down the middle. Four stout, leathery, movable fingers had now replaced the rock-solid, black hooves he once walked on. His dew claw had turned into a fifth finger, that had moved to the side of his new ¡°hands¡±, which he was able to tweak and move. After flipping the extremities over multiple times to inspect them, he used his fingers to begin prodding the wounds that riddled his body.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Most of his torso and limbs had lost the short, curly brown hair that once covered his body; now nearly shorn. Yet his head, shoulders, and the back of his neck still grew thick brown, matted fur that ran down his spine like a fashionable, tightly-fitting cloak. Due to lack of bathing and maintenance, the hair was tangled and had dreaded. Dirt and small pebbles were now imbedded into the fur; something he generally only enjoyed during the warm seasons. Gingerly touching the wounds on his side, he found no blood. The old wounds had already fused and scarred over seemingly long before he had awoken.

    Confused and disoriented, he gazed around the valley where his body had been left. Yes, he nodded, yes, he recognized it. It was home. He had spent his entire life here. But the time of year wasn¡¯t right. Jagged mountain tops surrounding the valley were already capped in snow. Many aspen trees were already dropping bright yellow leaves. Some were already completely barren ¨C their branches looking skeletal and rigid in the cool air. The mighty ponderosa pines still stood tall and lush, however; unaffected by the changing seasons.

    The wind was strong, muting the sounds of any birds in the area. If there are any¡­ he thought. Had they already migrated? The last day he remembered being active was the end of spring. Trees were full, and mountain tops were relieved of snow and ice. The sun was strong and many in his herd had been shedding their winter coats. A new generation of adolescence ¨C or ¡®red dogs¡¯, as the herd liked to call them ¨C were nearing completion of their annual training.

    ¡°But it¡¯s already fall?¡± Dahj thought out loud. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Patch by patch, he removed stubborn grasses, leaves, and pine needles that clung to his skin. His fingers being quite rigid and useless, he performed more of a ¡®brushing¡¯ motion, reminding him of swatting away pesky horse flies during the summer months. Each caused a light stinging sensation, especially the blades of dried grasses that had interwoven with his remaining pelt.

    He swore under his breath and decided to stand. If it really was fall, he was already behind on his annual routine for the herd. Winters in this region were relentless and unforgiving. The land offered almost no nourishment under the blanket of snow and ice that covered ground plants, and shelter was scarce. He feared that the red dogs had not received proper training; lack of preparation could easily lead to suffering or death for the young and defenseless. He needed to find the herd, round them up, and finish consumption.

    Plots of land for the rotation were planned ahead of time ¨C where, and when the herd could consume the most amount of food to store as fat, saved for the cold months. When one area was exhausted of food, his herd would move together as a group to the next designated area. At this point in the season, however, they must have already moved south to drop in elevation; seeking warmer climates. Hopefully Grentat, along with his other assistants, had assumed temporary leadership during his absence to bring the herd to the correct plots, at the right times, for efficient consuming.

    Pulling plants away caused sporadic twinges as singular hairs were plucked from his hide, tied to the natural blanket that had unintentionally weaved together with his matted fur. He winced as aged scabs were removed, exposing tender patches of skin to the cool air. Bonds broken, the plants slowly shriveled and retreated into the soil. He had never seen a plant grow backwards, and assumed it had something to do with the seasonal effect over the land.

    Brush and pine needles surrounded his resting area, shrouding it like a padded wall. Pushing through the brush released the light scent of juniper that tickled his nostrils. This late in the year their branches were already ridden of berries, unfortunately. They would have been a welcome, easily-grabbable breakfast.

    Upon uncovering his feet, he paused; finding them to be in a similar physical state as his ¡®hands¡¯. The hooves at the end of his hind legs had split down the middle on each side and rounded off as well. Four gruesome toes with disgusting nails had taken the place of the hooves, and moved independently when curled. The toes had elongated, extending much longer than they were wide. Heels had formed, rounding off the back of each foot. Even his knees had changed orientation; now bending forward instead of backwards, and gained caps. Powerful calve muscles had grown on the back of his once-skinny legs, now necessary for his new form.

    This isn¡¯t normal, he thought. He felt like a specimen in an experiment led by a herd-mate attempting to prank him. If it was, he commended the creativity. How could one¡¯s body undergo such drastic physical changes, then be left for dead in a field?

    Assuming a standing position on all four limbs like normal, Dahj surprisingly felt incredibly uncomfortable. His fingers were hyperextended. His knees were now oriented the opposite way. The exaggerated hunch in his back forced his head to look down at the soil beneath him. To look straight ahead in this position would cause far too much strain on his neck. Attempting to walk on all fours felt far more laborious than it used to be.

    Standing still for a moment, he took a deep breath to allow his arms and legs to stop shaking. Dust and pebbles on the ground ¨C mere inches from his face ¨C were displaced into small puffs that lingered in the air from his heavy exhales. Stretching his quivering arm, he retrieved a large stick while standing on three limbs. To his surprise, it was quite easy to grab with five fingers. Standing it upright, he pushed down on the end of the stick and forced his fatigued legs to lift his body weight. He roared in agony as it felt like the muscles in his legs were made of thin rubber being stretched to its limit. Air was pulled in his through his wide, wet, leathery nose and exhaled out his mouth as he panted in pain.

    Standing erect, Dahj was about eight feet tall. His wide, flat teeth clamped in pain while stabilizing himself. A straight beard ran down his long, narrowing chin that stretched his face downwards. His round, deep brown eyes were now closer together than they had been before, but were still separated by his large nose and forehead. One physical feature that had not changed was his complexion. Almost matching the color of what his fur once was, he was now slightly darker. Hopefully, this would assist his now-exposed body would be more resistant to the brutal summer-sun¡¯s rays.

    Slightly stumbling, he was able to gain his balance and take a few steps quite gingerly, followed by wet huffs and a slight groan. When he felt comfortable to remove one of his hands from his stick, he reached up to inspect his short, stout horns with pointed tips. He was relieved to feel that they were both still intact. The condition of an individual¡¯s horns was a status symbol within the herd, and it would be a shame to come home with them damaged or broken.

    When adrenaline had finally stopped coursing through his body, and his legs were no longer shaking, Dahj took his first steps. He felt like a red dog again himself.

    ***

    Still under the assistance of his walking stick, Dahj uncomfortably descended the steep hill face he had awoken on into a familiar valley. Had the rotation been carried out properly, this would have been the herd¡¯s first feeding field. It was wide, open land with acres of nutrient-rich grasses and shrubbery. Juniper and sagebrush littered the area in dense patches. This valley sat at a lower altitude than the regional average, causing water from the mountains to gather here, hydrating the grasses and plants his herd fed on. Small streams veined their way through the valley, providing fresh water for local fauna as well. This late in the season, the herd should have been long gone by now, but he had to be sure in case they had stalled or carried out the rotation improperly.

    Upon arriving, Dahj found the area to be quite uninhabited. The sun that had once illuminated his eyelids was now mostly covered by overcasting clouds, and the vast sky was quickly turning a sickly grey. Parts of the valley were patchy and dead, either from grazing or early-season nightly frost.

    The only life he spotted were a couple does and their fawn; born in the spring of that year. On opposite ends of the valley from him, they cautiously stuck to distant tree lines. Deer were skittish animals and would be difficult to approach, especially with his current posture. The mothers generally kept watch for threats while allowing their fawns to eat. The doe¡¯s white-tipped tail flicked nervously as she kept her black, emotionless eyes locked on Dahj.

    As his stomach growled in a low, desperate tone, Dahj deflated to find that food was scarce. It appeared that this land had already been heavily trafficked ¨C most likely from other herds ¨C or even his own moving through earlier in the year. It was going to be more of a chore to get his fill, but his body would be unable to sustain itself to his southern-most destination if he didn¡¯t eat.

    Turning to address the same mountain peaks he had remembered gazing at, he froze in confusion to find them capped in snow. I was just here¡­ he thought, spinning in a full circle amongst dead grasses while leaning on his stick for assistance. Talking to Grentat about¡­ something-or-rather¡­ those mountain tops ¨C they were barren. Despite being shrouded in snow, he still fantasized about standing on their highest peaks. At least from there, perhaps he would be able to spot his herd!

    ***

    The sun was beginning to set. Dipping behind the mountains to the west, deep shadows were cast across the valley where Dahj was mindlessly eating his fill. His new posture had made this daunting task much more laborious. Once able to eat in mid stride, he now had to drop to his knees before consuming a patch of grass. After grazing to the roots of the blades, he would stand again and move to another. Saturated ground produced lite squishing sounds under his heavy steps. The closer he was to running water, the deeper his new extremities sank. He worried that he would displace the land he walked on right into a frigid stream, or become stuck! These new feet did not feel nearly as sturdy or efficient as hooves¡­

    Wet dirt and grass stained his joints from gently sinking into the soil if he stayed kneeling for too long. Tiny bubbles rose from the displaced mud, allowing air to escape. The meal was far from enjoyable; morning frost had killed the grasses, leaving them limp. Seasonal rainfall had saturated the field, mixing it with wet, cold mud. The process of decomposition had already commenced as it prepared the valley for new growth in the upcoming year. Winter was on its way to selfishly claim the life of nearly every living plant and animal that was not resilient enough to survive its icy grip. He cursed his soggy, wet mess of a dinner, but knew it was the only way to achieve any nutrition during these fruitless months.

    The temperature dropped rapidly as Dahj slowly grinded a wad of grass between molars in the back of his mouth. Feeling colder than normal due to the lack of fur on parts of his body, the anxiety regarding the current state of his herd crept back into his mind. He feared for their existence. Leaderless, the herd may not have been able to reach suitable lands in the south before the elements caught up with them. His vision was blurry and obscured in the darkness. The moon had not yet risen, and he was no longer able to identify what he was eating. Each bite tasted more and more like dirt. Sand and grit filled the gaps between his teeth as he spit small rocks onto the ground. It was time to find some cover and sleep through the night.

    Still near the edge of the forest, Dahj found a large tree surrounded by exceptional ground cover to nestle into and blanket himself for the night. As he drifted off to sleep, howls rang through the air, reminding him that there are more threats in the forest than just the changing seasons. After adjusting multiple times to find a comfortable position to lay in with his new posture, he felt safe enough to close his eyes until dawn.

 Chapter 2: Resting Grounds of the Past

    Cool air flowed from the peaks of nearby mountains into the lowlands of the valley, awaking Dahj with a shiver. His muscles were still sore, yet somewhat rejuvenated from a hearty meal and a good night¡¯s sleep. Crisp air stung his wide nostrils as he took a deep breath. Sparkling frost covered the cold-wilted grasses throughout the valley, causing a dazzling spectacle.

    When attempting to stand, he found that roots, leaves, and grasses had blanketed his body, providing what insulation they could. Lethargic under the grip of the nightly chill, it had seemingly taken them hours to cover his entire body; long after he had already fallen asleep. Luckily, the natural blanket was only present long enough that the grasses did not have time to weave into his fur. He curled his fingers into a hook-shape to scrape them away with a light rustle before making his way to a nearby stream for a drink. The frigid water made him tighten as it passed down his throat and through his chest. Though it was painful, the ice-cold water invigorated him.

    ¡°How long was I out?¡± Dahj said under his breath. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s even later in the season than I thought¡­¡±

    Getting an early start would be wise. He decided to move directly to the winter resting area, rather than pass through each of the feeding grounds. This would take longer, but worst-case-scenario, he would arrive at the resting area before the herd and be ready for their arrival.

    Dahj prided himself in his accomplishments with his herd. In his years of leadership, he boasted one of the lowest mortality rates in the history of his herd, as reported by the elders. Health of the young was superb, and head count had continued to flourish. These personal successes were attributed to strict regimens, schedules, and training. Satiating, fattening consumption relied on diligent rotation. With the assistance of his secondary leaders, Dahj had secured certain areas of this land that were ideal for every season.

    During the summer, temperatures drove the generations further north to find bountiful valleys surrounded by hills and mountains. These valleys were rich in ground cover and small streams, ensuring no member of the herd would suffer malnourishment. Vast, open area made it difficult for predators to approach the herd unspotted. The eldest, most sturdy bulls kept to the perimeter of the group, acting as the first line of defense for encroaching carnivores expecting a free meal. The guards were always his most trusted bulls. Attentive and intimidating, their presence provided soothing peace-of-mind for the offspring that remained encapsulated within the barrier of fur and horns as the offspring ate their fill.

    As days grew colder, the heard would begin move further south. Snow cover was inevitable in this region, but luckily Dahj and his assistants knew of the perfect spot. Tucked away within a towering gorge was a lake that would freeze in the winter. Solid enough to support their weight, the herd could group up here, pelt to pelt, and share body warmth to endure the coldest days. Both sides of the chasm were protected from harsh winds by vertical stone walls. Predators were left with only one bottlenecked path to approach from. Jumping was not an option, and neither was descending the slick, frozen waterfall that let into the backside of the chasm. This is where Dahj was headed. No matter where the herd was in their rotation, they would eventually end up in this gorge as their winter resting grounds.

    Predators did not intimidate Dahj. His body was riddled in scars from previous attacks, and a broken bone was not a foreign concept. Being a leader meant being brave enough to take on any threat that posed itself to the herd; whether it be animal or element. The herd was taught to respect the land. If the land provides for the herd, the herd must provide for the land. Staying too long in one spot can cause over harvesting, making it difficult for the region to regrow and provide food the following year. Constant trampling can easily pulverize or kill grasses and shrubs, leaving muddy soil that will not easily take new seeds. It was incredibly important not to overstay in a delicate area. The herd was instructed to only eat half-way down the blades, and to never uproot. These practices combined would give the fields a much higher chance at being lush when they were ready to return.

    ***

    Days past as Dahj made his way to the winter resting ground. The lack of inhabitants throughout the landscape filled Dahj with an eerie sensation. He had never seen the hills and valley so barren, normally being much further south at this time of year. The place he once knew as home now felt abandoned and desolate on the brink of lifeless months.

    Occasionally, he would come across other species such as deer, elk, squirrels, and rabbits. They would freeze in place, as if they were looking at a creature they had never witnessed. Their muscles twitched lightly, preparing to dart in the opposite direction should he come any closer. It was quite rare, after all, to see a bison by themselves, migrating alone so late in the cold season. The animals that gave him no hospitality probably assumed he was an outcast, despite his commanding stature. The strangers only allowed him eye contact and a simple nod.

    Dahj hung his head under the weight of the negative assumptions the other animals had towards him. Murderer? Outcast? Thief? Flesh-eater? He had never been treated this way, as a fellow herbivore. He was unsure what the other mammals had deduced to label him as, but as far as they were concerned, he was probably no longer a plant eater. Herbivores had held dearly to an ongoing peace pact for as long as the land was old. Those of flesh must never consume flesh. They lived simply off what organically grew from the ground, never each other. After undergoing so many physical changes, Dahj was no longer considered part of this group.

    Examining the land, Dahj located familiar landmarks to direct himself south. He was about half-way to his resting ground as the sun reached its highest point in the overcast sky. The sun¡¯s rays desperately attempted to penetrate the grey film tightly pulled across noon¡¯s sky as he approached a tree line.

    Scanning the forest dominantly populated by plain alders, he spotted the twelve-point rack of a large bull elk. If it wasn¡¯t for feathers and other decorative bands that hung from the elk¡¯s aged horns, it would have easily blended in with the rigid white branches of the surrounding trees. Although the points revealed the age of the bull, the fragility of the horns told that they were soon to fall from the animal¡¯s head. By the end of fall, the bull would begin scratching the pointed rack against trees or rocks once they became to irritating to maintain. The colorful decorative indicated that the elk was a leader of his own species.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Dahj called hesitantly.

    The bull¡¯s head whipped up from what he was eating to meet eyes with Dahj. Standing sideways, he warily allowed Dahj to approach him. Multiple young and female elk backed away into the tree cover behind the bull, leaving him alone and exposed.

    Elk move south in the winter as well, he thought, approaching the bull. Perhaps he has encountered my herd in passing. ¡°I¡¯m looking for my ¨C¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± the leader cut him off bluntly.

    Dahj paused, slack jawed, not knowing how to reply. With a heavy sigh, he simply shrugged.

    ¡°Why do you¡­ why do you look like that? How are you walking like that? What are you?¡± the bull inquired. His leg and shoulder muscles twitched defensively, ready to propel him in the opposite direction. Elks could easily bound over fallen trees and rocks should they deem Dahj a threat.

    The feathers and small teeth swayed in the air, suspended from dried reeds, as the bull¡¯s head moved up and down to inspect Dahj.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m looking for my herd. Have you heard of the Kleecloks? I was their leader, see?¡± Dahj nodded to the etches on his horns and markings on his fur ¨C the only remaining decorative traits he had. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ve been out, or what happened to me, I just need to find them before winter.¡±

    The bull slowly stepped closer to inspect the etchings on his horns, stunned to find that they were real ¨C and preserved so well! ¡°These are a very old style of decorative,¡± the leader murmured. ¡°I do recognize the name of that herd, but only from tales. They have not traveled these lands in a very, very long time. It is a new generation now.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    A shiver ran down Dahj¡¯s spine. He clutched his chest in response to it tightening.

    The bull continued with his inquiries. ¡°Where is the rest of your¡­ coat? We are on the brink of winter, you should have grown it by now, and be with your herd much further south¡­¡±

    ¡°I know that,¡± Dahj stated sternly, growing impatient. ¡°That is why I am trying to find them. Can you tell me where they are?¡±

    Staring at Dahj¡¯s odd hands, the elk muttered ¡°I have no worldly idea¡±. He looked up and met eyes with Dahj. ¡°Like I said, that herd has not existed in a very long time.¡±

    The cows that accompanied the leader grew wary. As they passed behind their leader, one of them dragged her hoof through fallen leaves, causing a light rustle and let out a moan that Dahj interpreted to be a signal that she was ready to depart.

    Dahj persisted, convinced this could simply not be true. That long? he thought. It couldn¡¯t be. He didn¡¯t feel like he¡¯d aged a day! Sore, sure. Different, sure. But long enough for his entire herd to past on?

    ¡°Well, the new herd. Where would they be at this time of year?¡± Dahj asked. His pulse quickened as his hands quivered lightly. He wanted to break out in a sprint towards the winter resting ground ¨C not that his new posture would allow such a physical feat.

    The elk snorted. ¡°How am I supposed to know? We occasionally cross paths in the summer¡­ I am not one of your kind, we don¡¯t go as far south as you do to escape the cold.¡±

    Dahj made eye contact with one of the cows that seemed to be taking pity on him. He stared at her, pleading for any information. Unfortunately, she genuinely had none to offer. Her ears stood rigid from either side of her head ¨C almost all of her senses were working overtime in an effort to detect any kind of threat from the lost bison.

    ¡°Now, strange one ¨C whatever you are, we must be moving on. The days are growing shorter and the fields less filling. I too, have a heard to meet up with.¡± The bull turned to the cows and gestured towards the game trail. ¡°Maintain the peace and we will not harm you. Keep in mind, you are clearly very, very alone.¡±

    Dahj¡¯s shoulders slumped as the elk loosely gathered and moved across the hill face, following a well-trodden game trail. Some kept eyes on Dahj, still unable to fully trust the strange beast as others followed their leader.

    Dahj¡¯s only choice was to continue onto the grounds and hope to meet up with his herd members. The sun was setting again, and it was time to find an area to rest and graze. The hunch of his back was beginning to ache. Standing upright like this for so long sent stings of pain over his shoulders. Occasionally, he would let his head hang limp to relieve some of the weight.

    The plants around him, however, felt more alive than ever. They offered a strange sensation when touched ¨C it was as if they were slightly reacting to the contact of the soles of his leathery feet. Even encumbered by the twilight frost, blades of grass and juniper branches were magnetically pulled to his skin. Plants he stepped on miraculously budded before flowering, even in the end of fall. Walking away from the pedals caused them to quickly wither before falling to the ground, colorless and dead.

    After finding suitable brush cover to crawl under, the branches around him stretched and bent, intertwining themselves to form a perforated quilt to insulate and conceal the lost leader. Fallen leaves patched the holes to keep in as much warmth as possible. The sensation lightly tickled and confused Dahj. He wasn¡¯t used to such hospitality from the land. Mind drifting elsewhere, he simply appreciated the assistance that allowed him to fall asleep.

    ***

    Waking in the dawn of the final day of his journey to the resting grounds, Dahj severely lacked the motivation to rise and face the last leg of his journey. Eyes wide open, he blankly stared deeper into the forest, still wrapped in branches and leaves like a thick, woven sleeping bag. The wrap had also offered beneficial camouflage. Should someone happen upon him, they may think they have found a severed head lying on the forest floor.

    For the life of him, he could not remember the events that led him to his original waking place. He was left in plain sight. His body would have been quite easy to find ¨C for anyone that truly sought to find him! Was he abandoned? Sabotaged? Was it worth seeking the guidance of other animals? Getting a second opinion on the whereabouts of his herd?

    He simply didn¡¯t have time to scour the forest ¨C he needed to press forward. Every time he stood was a new struggle, yet he forced himself regardless to awkwardly continue the journey. The plants covering him unwound themselves, retreating to their original position as Dahj watched in captivation.

    Surprisingly, he felt hydrated. Lactic acid build-up in his muscles had subsided overnight. Healthy complexion had returned to his face, and he no longer felt parched. Though his hunch was still cumbersome, it no longer oppressed him in pain. For the first time, Dahj had started his day with a new spring in his step. Standing and gaining momentum no longer required the aide of his walking stick.

    The roots that sheltered his body had nourished him though out the night. Water had seeped from them into his skin, encapsulating nutrients offered by the trees as well. Healing properties of plants were not gained just by ingestion anymore for Dahj, he was able to absorb them though contact as well. Not only repairing his body with essential vitamins and minerals, they had also repaired his mind; offering a sense of optimism on a new day.

    ***

    As the sun dipped behind the western mountain range, Dahj arrived at the crest of the final ridge that separated him from the valley that he had once claimed to be his herd¡¯s winter resting area. Nestled between two massive mountain ranges, it was a steep drop from the jagged cliff faces into the gorge. The west face had a strong waterfall that dropped hundreds of feet into the basin below, running south. During the spring, the river runs full and wide, fueled by mountain-top snow melt. However, at this time of year ¨C on the brink of winter ¨C the river yields much less water and it slows to a mere stream until the cold completely freezes it in place.

    First-year red dogs once played in this very stream during late fall while their parents settled and filled up on food provided by the basin. The east face of the gorge was decorated in small trees, ferns, and moss that nearly covered it. Facing east-west, the gorge was bathed in sunlight throughout the day, and soaked up water from the mist of the waterfall ¨C a suitable habitat for the daring plants brave enough to cling to the eroding cliff face.

    Protected from most predators by offering a vertical advantage, it was also a protected home of small birds that nested in the rocks and branches. Any creature that did not possess the ability of flight would not be reaching these precarious perches. Dahj gazed upon the basin, overwhelmed with nostalgia. Unfortunately, memories did not physically populate the territory. It was now void of life. With only fading twilight to guide his path, he quickly descended the hill into the gorge to find somewhere to sleep.

    Settling, Dahj grinned as the plants around him wrapped him up for insulation. In the light of the now full moon, he heard a group of howls in the not-so-far distance. The perceived proximity sent a shiver down his spine. In his position as a leader, this was the first time a threat like wolves had caused fear. Surrounded by members of his herd, proper coordination and defensive tactics would rarely allow a wolf to penetrate the horned group and leave with an easy meal. However, this time it was just him. Alone. His body was weak, and much different than the last time he had to defend himself.

    ***

    What felt like hours had passed as Dahj laid in the moonlight. Eyes flicking back and forth, he scanned the dark ridge for any movement. His head would begin to slouch as his eyelids grew heavy, but were instantly jerked back open by even the slightest rustle. As his long, wide chin finally touched the ground between his arms, he heard a low growl in front of him.

    Dahj jumped up. Staring at him from about twenty yards away was a large wolf ¨C hackles raised and teeth bared. Head hung low in a prowling posture, the wolf slowly crept towards him, shoulder blades alternating exposure. Dahj stood his ground, huffing loudly and stamping his right foot, kicking up dirt and small rocks behind him. Shaking his large head caused his beard to sway in the wind.

    Abruptly blindsided from the right, Dahj was assaulted by a second wolf. Pain shot through his shoulder as the wolf bit down hard. Dahj roared in pain and shook the dog off with a powerful turn. Penetrating teeth pulled through the pierced wound, advancing puncture to long gashes. He felt like a fool; wolves would never attack solo. An attack from the side was predictable and successful.

    The wolf landed on his side, but rolled to his feet before backing off. Dahj ducked his shoulder and grasped it with his hand. Blood filled his palm as he instinctually applied pressure; an act he was previously unable to perform. The first wolf had been running towards him during the clash, but Dahj was ready for this one.

    Feigning disability, Dahj swung his massive head just as the wolf went airborne. Sharp, sturdy horn connected with the wolf¡¯s lower jaw with a dull thud. The impact caused the wolf¡¯s jaws to snap shut as it was sent flying over the bull¡¯s head. With a loud yelp it landed on its back and limped away, whimpering.

    Another wolf revealed himself from the shadows, just behind Dahj. A third wolf. Slobber dripped off bared teeth as the new threat barked harshly at him. The two wolves still capable of fighting attacked simultaneously ¨C one grabbing Dahj¡¯s arm as he fell while the other assailant yanked at the back of his neck in firm jerks and twists. The third watched from a distance, too rattled to continue fighting. Using his mutated hands, Dahj punched one of the wolves in the side of the head repeatedly as the other bit his back and neck through matted fur.

    As the wolf receiving blows to the right side of his skull turned to retreat from blunt injuries to his eye and ear, Dahj heard a rumbling charge approach from the distance. He looked up just as a wide, plate-like antler caught the wolf still biting him, sending its body flying into the air. Blue eyes glinted in the moonlight as the assaulted wolf rotated one full time before falling hard onto the ground, body limp. The two wolves still barely standing saw this as a definite sign to retreat. Yelping and running in the opposite direction, they abandoned their friend.

 Chapter 3: The Cedar Homestead

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± the moose-like stranger asked. His vibrant blue eyes glistened in the moonlight.

    ¡°Heh, yeah, I am,¡± Dahj replied between deep breaths. He gingerly gripped the back of his neck. Blood lightly trickled though dreaded fur, making it sticky.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a thick hide!¡± the moose exclaimed, finding almost no tears on the back of Dahj¡¯s neck; just puncture wounds. ¡°Those things are just as much bite as they are bark! Get up.¡± He extended his long arm to help Dahj to his feet.

    Dahj accepted the offer. Standing, the two nearly matched in height, but Dahj¡¯s hunch made him seem shorter when standing face to face. The moose¡¯s posture was rigid and proud. His broad chest was slightly puffed from pulling his shoulders back. Air whistled through nostrils of a nose too large for his face as he caught his breath after the strenuous sprint.

    Still grasping the moose¡¯s hand, Dahj firmly turned his own palm-up to expose the top of the moose¡¯s. Discreetly inspecting the savior¡¯s extremity while tightly clutching it in his own, Dahj found that the erect mammal had four independent fingers ¨C resembling his own hands. As if both sides of his hooves had split down the middle, four deep black, leathery fingers had replaced them. However, Dahj noticed that the moose¡¯s fifth finger was not quite as developed as his own. Lacking a joint, it seemed to be one straight, unbendable digit. Dahj released his grip thanked the moose for his noble assistance.

    ¡°Impeccable timing,¡± Dahj noted.

    ¡°Impeccable would have been arriving before you were assaulted,¡± the moose replied. He dusted himself off. Veins protruded through slim, muscular arms. His complexion was dark brown ¨C a little lighter than that of the bison¡¯s.

    ¡°You just, happened across me then? Right place at the right time?¡± Dahj asked.

    ¡°You could say that,¡± the moose replied. ¡°I¡¯ve been tailing you for some time ¨C waiting to see if instinct would lead you before I would have to.¡±

    ¡°Tailing me? Where¡­ where was instinct supposed to lead me? This is my herd¡¯s old resting ground,¡± Dahj replied frantically.

    ¡°Heh. If you say so,¡± the moose replied, scanning the vacant area.

    ¡°And you just waited for me to be attacked? You didn¡¯t think to gain my attention some other way?¡± Dahj couldn¡¯t ignore the pain in his shoulder through the distraction of the stranger¡¯s mysterious claims. He lifted his hand and clutched the puncture wounds that dotted his shoulder.

    ¡°Waiting for you to be attacked wasn¡¯t exactly part of the agenda, bison. Like I said, I was just ¨C oh right, let me get you something for that,¡± the moose said, pitying Dahj¡¯s poor self-aide.

    Swinging his wide rack silently through the chilled air, the moose retreated to groups of various flora lining the exposed area where Dahj had fallen under assault. Rifling while muttering to himself, the moose hand-picked a pitiful bunch of herbs and wide, waxy leaves that had yet to perish in the chilling season. He returned to Dahj, halfheartedly presenting his collection.

    ¡°What do you want me to do with those?¡± Dahj asked, hesitantly looking over the array of limp flora.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it, those wounds¡¯ll close right up!¡±

    Removing Dahj¡¯s hand from his shoulder, the moose crushed the plants together in the palm of his own hand, releasing their natural oils. He held them up to the moon as if offering. ¡°For good measure,¡± the moose claimed out of the corner of his mouth.

    Dahj didn¡¯t comprehend. Usually when an injury occurred, he just rinsed it in the river and rubbed some dirt on it.

    An open-palmed slap met Dahj¡¯s shoulder. The bison replied with a roar as the wound burned intensely. Oils mixed with coagulating blood slowly trickled through his matted fur, causing a stinging sensation.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Dahj shouted.

    ¡°Nature my friend,¡± the moose replied confidently. ¡°Nature. Take care of it, and it will take care of you.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s not¡­ taking care of me!¡± Dahj raised his hand again to clutch his arm that now burned fiercely. On contact, the pain spread to his hand as well.

    The moose watched Dahj¡¯s reaction, confused. ¡°Just uh, give it a minute.¡±

    ¡°I think you made it worse!¡± Dahj scolded.

    The moose retreated to the area where he had procured the herbs, inspecting those that grew in the same vicinity.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. I think I know what happened,¡± the moose mumbled as he approached once again, carrying a new variety of plants. ¡°Well, we¡¯ll look into that further when we reach our destination!¡±

    ¡°Destination ¨C a resting place? Do you know my herd? The Kleecloks,¡± Dahj stuttered, distracted from the pain.

    ¡°Slow down,¡± the moose replied, arm outstretched. ¡°I¡¯m not the one to answer these questions. I¡¯m just here to retrieve you¡­¡±

    ¡°Retrieve me? By who?¡±

    The moose separated himself from the injured bison. ¡°An individual who will answer your questions!¡± he called over his shoulder.

    ***

    They walked silently through the night. The moose¡¯s long, gangly legs allowed him to take powerful strides on feet that Dahj noted resembled his own. Leathery hooves that had been recycled into feet allowed the moose to quickly cover ground with minimal effort. As they crested a rolling hill, sunrise broke. Fog summoned by the rapidly changing temperatures filled the valley below.

    Proudly thrusting through the dense fog was the lush crown of a massive cedar tree. It had grown so tall that branches no longer sprouted below the top half; most of the giant was barren, jagged bark. Capping branches had been forced into diagonal orientation due to the tremendous weight of snow the tree would bear during winter.

    Towering close to the cliff face opposite the pair, it seemed that from this angle, part of the tree was growing out of the base of the mountain. Quite unusual, as the foothills were generally rocky and inhospitable. Yet, after spending most of its life at a healthy distance from the crumbling face, the tree had grown so large that it threatened to envelop the rocky, sharply ascending landscape in its proximity.

    Inspired by the brilliant rays of the rising sun, Dahj pressed once again. ¡°So, could you at least tell me your name?¡±

    The moose sighed heavily, slightly out of breath from the recent climb. ¡°Brenloru,¡± he replied.

    Pleased with the progress, Dahj continued. ¡°And you¡¯re taking me to?¡±

    ¡°Look, ¡°I didn¡¯t choose you. I was just told to find you. Most of your questions will be answered soon.¡± Brenloru nodded towards the tree. ¡°Now ¨C follow me.¡±

    ***

    The pair circled around to the left ¨C south of the tree. Crossing a field now better described as marshlands, Dahj occasionally sunk his legs into small veins of rogue streams descending from mountains with no distinct path. The behemoth remained visible throughout the journey towards the lowest point of the ridgeline that backdropped the tree of mysterious significance.

    There was no discernible way to distinguish its age. Layers upon layers of wood and bark plated the giant in large chunks, cragged and jagged like the hide of an elder that was long beyond a respectable time of passing. Roots sprawled from the trunk of the giant, reaching thirty feet in the air. Vertical plates quickly descended before forking off into further layers that met the ground. Although clearly a species of ¡®red¡¯ cedar, its bark was a much deeper complexion.

    As they ascended the ridgeline, Brenloru inspected the cliff face to his right side carefully, looking straight down over the sheer drop. As the moose approached the edge, small rocks and rubble chipped off the edge and fell down the exposed face of the jagged hill. He was far too close for Dahj¡¯s comfort. Tree roots of varying size poked out of the cliff, some tiny and spindly, others much thicker and sturdier. Brenloru reviewed each and every one, as if trying to find the perfect root.

    Brenloru stopped, seeming satisfied. ¡°These will do. Come closer, I¡¯m going to need to leap a bit for that lower one. You grab this one at the top.¡±

    Slack-jawed, Dahj took a few steps closer and peered over the edge of the cliff, identifying the root Brenloru was referring to. The soil shifted under the weight of his leading foot, sending rubble cascading down through a layer of fog to the basin below. They had hiked higher than the clouds.

    ¡°Ready?¡± inquired Brenloru with a smile.

    Dahj looked at the root the moose was referencing with a sense of distrust ¨C falling further than a couple hundred feet would mean grave injuries. Tanish-brown cliff faces boasted their broad chests from miles away with an intimidating pose. Dahj frowned at them, like fighting off taunts from an older brother persuading him to do something he knew was too dangerous.

    ¡°Alright whatever, see you there!¡± Brenloru shouted as he hopped off the cliff. Midair, he firmly grabbed the root, causing it pull downwards through the soil it sprouted from under the immense weight of the moose. Before the root could snap under the strain, it absorbed the entire animal like a liquid, taking him out of sight as Dahj¡¯s heartbeat thumped through his ears.

    Shocked, Dahj took a knee. He had never seen anything like it. An entire beast¡­ sucked into the earth. Fear clutched his arm, freezing it in place. What if the root he chose gave, ripping out of the soil and sending his body tumbling off the cliff face to the ground below?

    The blanket of fog would certainly not pad his fall ¨C he would easily pass through to an unforgiving base. The moose hadn¡¯t provided any further instructions! Was Dahj supposed to say a magic word? Tug the root in a specific fashion?

    Grimacing, he squelched doubt and grabbed the root.

    He felt himself being sucked in. As if traveling like a water droplet through a dehydrated root, he weaved up and down, through and through. Dirt and rocks whizzed past him silently, though their naturally abrasive texture was dulled. The tunnel of wood expanded as his body traveled closer to the tree from which it grew.

    At last, he popped out into a hollowed, dimly-lit room. Standing on the landing pad, waiting for him, was Brenloru. Arm outstretched, he helped Dahj to his feet.

    ¡°The first time is always wild, huh?¡± Brenloru asked with a chuckle.

    After first checking for wounds, he took a moment to investigate the room he had landed in. Made entirely from wood, it was seemingly constructed from a singular piece, spanning floor to ceiling. There was no evidence of boards, planks, or assembled logs. It had been burrowed out.

    The floor was smooth and heavily sanded, most likely from foot traffic. The walls, however, were rough and granular. Scratch marks were abundantly obvious from teeth passing over the wooden walls thousands of times. A network of roots, varying size stretched across the ceiling. They twisted and turned rampantly, each leading to a different location around the outside of the tree.

    To his right, a calm pool of water stood completely still with a mirror-like surface. The limited amount of light present in the room delicately reflected off the surface of the pool back into the room, illuminating walls and various entrances. On the left, a simple tunnel led from the tree directly into the earth, featuring jagged rocks and a path of heavily trodden dirt. Directly ahead of him, an archway led further into the immense tree.

    The landing room¡¯s only light source came from diligent groups of fireflies. Keeping to their respective groups, they gleefully populated nooks, crannies and spaces between hanging roots to provide illumination over each of the main entrance points. A beaver carrying a mouthful of sticks broke the surface of the pool, sending ripples to the edge. Light scattered across the walls of the room, refracted by the beaver¡¯s disturbance. Creating dazzling spectacle, it briefly caught Dahj in a trance.

    ¡°I assume you can¡¯t swim or dig?¡± Brenloru inquired.

    ¡°No¡­¡± Dahj said slowly, keeping his eyes on the beaver with astonished wonder as it took an immediate right-turn to head into the tree.

    ¡°Then the tunnel¡¯s the only way in! Let¡¯s go,¡± Brenloru said flatly. ¡°Careful not to step on the moles¡­¡± he added as he headed for the tree¡¯s entrance.

    ***

    Dahj followed into the tree to find it completely hollowed. The number of inhabitants scurrying throughout the main pillar was staggering. He didn¡¯t know what to call it ¨C not a hive, nor a colony. There were mammals here, as well as insects and amphibians. In fact, there were more unique species to count at a glance. They all seemed to have a specific job or responsibility. The smell of cedar filled Dahj¡¯s nostrils with a deep breath as he inspected each inhabitant¡¯s activity closer.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Rodents such as voles and mice scurried in and out of holes at the base of the room, cleaning and moving small debris from place to place.  Birds carried usable items vertically through the hollow cylinder, having the ability to skip the ramp that spiraled upwards. Inclining sharply, the only patch of ascension cork-screwed around a solid wooden pole that stood erect in the center of the tree. The pole and ramp did not seem to be moved there, but instead carved into place. Beavers, including the one he had seen earlier, carried suitable branches and sticks to various parts of the tree to create small homes for the inhabitants. Frogs and salamanders seemed to be on a permanent break; their responsibilities within the tree were likely minimal if not non-existent.

    Dahj and Brenloru were the tallest creatures present. A wave of humorous jealously passed through the bison¡¯s chest at the comfort of these smaller mammals. Although he was slightly bitter that he was just now finding out about this place, he understood that herds of larger mammals would not be able to fit within the confined corridors throughout winter. Besides, these were creatures that could use the extra protection from hungry predators. Larger beasts, equipped with horns, tusks, thicker hides and quicker speeds would do well to defend themselves out in the wild.

    Enduring the pain of straining his neck upwards, Dahj followed the pillar as high as possible up towards the numerous, sprawling green branches that acted as a ceiling for the cedar tree. Black soot licked the smoothed, rounded walls of the tree, more and more prominently towards the highest point. Dahj had only seen black trees during the summer months; it was generally a sign of nature¡¯s injuries.

    ¡°Want to see dry storage?¡± Brenloru asked as he patiently waited for Dahj to take it all in.

    Taking a right, they walked into a section of much lower ceilings. Unfortunately for the larger mammals, the forgiving height was exclusive only to the main pillar. Shelves had been burrowed into the walls, which held a meticulously stocked supply of nuts, seeds, and dried herbs mixed with grasses ¨C categorized by item. Numerous squirrels scurried in and out of the room, bringing new items and removing old to be taken elsewhere throughout the tree.

    ¡°Ha, this is my favorite type of grass¡­¡± Dahj stated as he proceeded forward.

    ¡°Not a step closer! And don¡¯t touch that!¡± a squirrel standing upright with a raised tail shouted at him through long, yellowing front teeth. Slightly sagging cheeks and greying hair told that he was the eldest of the bunch. ¡°Do not mess with my inventory. If we are ever to make it through winter, everything must stay precisely where it is and rationed with care!¡±

    ¡°Sorry Keeper!¡± Brenloru replied for Dahj, bowing his antlers to avoid knocking against the ceiling. ¡°Just wanted to show the new guy where the grub comes from!¡±

    Parsun the Keeper narrowed his eyes on Brenloru. ¡°It''s not¡­ ¡®grubs¡¯. You know that¡¯s offensive. We don¡¯t eat insects¡­¡± He turned away in a huff and went back to his counting.

    Another reason Dahj¡¯s species would not be compatible here. Squirrels were nature¡¯s collectors. Storing and stocking, they were always prepared to endure winter from within their holes thanks to their reserve of nuts and seeds. They were far more reserved and excelled at rationing. Dahj on the other hand, could eat this entire room in one sitting and store it as fat instead!

    ¡°Well, moving on then!¡± Brenloru rolled his eyes at the cranky squirrel. ¡°It¡¯s time for you to meet someone very important.¡±

    Leaving the stockroom, the pair weaved their way through multiple hallways made of intricate wooden walls. All pathways were burrowed from a singular piece of wood. Intersections were smooth and rounded rather than cornered, and fireflies illuminated dark angles that sun¡¯s rays shining through the canopy could not reach. Rings of tree ran through the halls, creating a waved pattern that led inhabitants like directional guidance.

    Descending multiple flights of stairs carved from claws and teeth led from wooden architecture to damp soil as the hallways grew darker. Fireflies continued to offer their illumination within the tunnels, but more scarcely now. The smell of wet rot lingered in the air, as groups of insects assisted in the process of decomposition of unwanted leaves and sticks.

    Water dripped from the ceiling and echoed as it splattered on the wet, cushioned soil that slightly gave under Dahj¡¯s weight. This place was starting to feel like a maze; the bison wasn¡¯t convinced he would be able to find a way out at a moment¡¯s notice. It seemed residents were discouraged from descending this far, as he was yet to see another living creature ¨C even burrowers.

    Brenloru slowed to a stop as they approached what seemed to be a massive door, buried in rocks overgrown by thick roots.

    ¡°A Guardian requests a meeting with the Designer,¡± the moose stated clearly.

    A quiet moment passed with no response from the door. Then, the roots slowly pulled back, withdrawing between the massive boulders. The rocks shifted, releasing smaller stones that had been pinched between the boulders. The pebbles tumbled towards the pair with an echoing clatter. Two towering wooden doors swung open with an exaggerated groan.

    Long, low-standing tables were placed askew throughout the room. Scrolls of text littered their surfaces. Crudely written charts, graphs, and notes hung from the wood and rock walls written in script Dahj could not read. Small vials of mysterious liquids were kept in the back, mostly of deep red or bright green colors. Various pelts were lazily stacked in almost every corner. He did, however, recognize simple renditions that represented various animals native to the local land.

    Piles of miscellaneous bones, teeth, hooves, and horns were heaped as high as possible on any surface available before growing too high and spilling over onto themselves. Many physical items were collecting dust and appeared as if they hadn¡¯t been touched in quite some time. The stench was overwhelming. Pungent air stubbornly lingered in the room that completely lacked ventilation. A humid mix of iron and decomposing flesh.

    ¡°Ahhh, wonderful,¡± growled a low, raspy voice. ¡°A new¡­ Guardian. Come, let¡¯s see how you¡¯ve turned out.

    A hairless, plump beast slithered towards Dahj. Eight independent appendages moved a body that mostly consisted of a pale, greenish-brown head. More of a scurry than a walk, its eight legs alternated steps to quickly carry the fleshy, fluid body over to Dahj. Its complexion was unhealthy, to say the least; pale and lifeless, the nearly translucent skin had not seen the light of day in over a thousand years. No veins or blood were visible through the skin. Instead, clouds of blues and purples churned from within the beast.

    Contents of the ballooned head sloshed from within its thin, membrane-like skin, unencumbered by a skeletal structure as the creature used four of its long, tentacle-like appendages to push itself up, matching Dahj¡¯s height. Staring directly into its slits for eyes, Dahj was reminded of foam that capped waves of a rushing river by the bits of white that swirled within.

    ¡°Yes,¡± muttered the beast. ¡°Excellent.¡± Two of the beast¡¯s limp, hanging tentacles rose to grasp one of Dahj¡¯s mangled hands. Slithering over his leathery palm, the tentacles rolled it over multiple times for inspection. One of the tentacles felt powerful. Rock solid. Its grasp painfully squeezed Dahj¡¯s hand. The other, however, was cold and wet. It perspired enough liquid for large beads of water to collect before running down the beast¡¯s appendage and dripping to the stone ground.

    ¡°Your evolution is coming along nicely,¡± the beast said, turning Dahj¡¯s hand once more before gasping. ¡°Oh, oh yes. The thumb ¨C finally.¡± He lifted a third tentacle to rest on Dahj¡¯s shoulder. It radiated heat ¨C so intensely that Dahj could not bear it for very long. It felt like his fur was going to ignite. The smell of singed hair lingered in the air, adding to the collaboration of offensive odors.

    Dahj pulled away in pain.

    ¡°Oh, sorry about that.¡± the creature smirked and lifted his last tentacle to brush Dahj¡¯s cheek. This one, however, simply passed right through Dahj¡¯s face. The only sensation he experienced was a cool breeze. ¡°How long was he out?¡± the creature asked Brenloru, still grasping Dahj¡¯s hand with his first two odd tentacles.

    ¡°I have no idea ¨C I didn¡¯t know him before the process began. Maybe¡­ one hundred years? But it¡¯s a shot in the dark,¡± replied Brenloru, cheeks puffed.

    ¡°Me? One hundred years?¡± Dahj yanked back his hand from the tentacle¡¯s firm grip.

    ¡°Perhaps longer,¡± replied the beast, crooked smirk still lining his stretched face. ¡°It¡¯s been¡­ some time. You know, I have so many projects going on here I sometimes lose track.¡± He scurried back to his desk.

    As he approached his crudely constructed table, he firmly slapped the sturdy tentacle against the surface of it. ¡°The thumb though! The thumb I¡¯m excited about. You, my friend, are the first of your species to receive five independently moving fingers. Sure, they have some developing to do, but the progress I can see in you is exceptional! Not to mention being able to stand up straight.¡±

    ¡°And why was I chosen for this¡­ thumb, might I ask?¡± Dahj rolled his hand over, twitching his thumb and squeezing the leathery fingers into a fist.

    ¡°You must have been a leader of some type?¡± inquired the creature. ¡°You showed exceptional worth and dedication to nature. Generally, individuals who prove themselves to be a beacon of the core ideals of the land to a large group of followers are chosen to become Guardians when they fall.¡±

    ¡°Fall...¡± whispered Dahj as he stared through his hand at the floor below, smoothly polished from foot traffic over the years. ¡°When did I ¡®fall¡¯? How do you know that? And the whereabouts of my herd? The Kleecloks? What happened to ¨C¡±

    ¡°Dahj. I¡¯m sure you have many questions. But understand; I cannot answer them all. I do not personally know you, nor your specific herd. I experience time in a much different way than animals do. You, your herd, the recent and current state of the land that you know, the species you have experienced. This all seems like a literal lifetime to you, yet mere fleeting moments to me.¡±

    Dahj¡¯s shoulders drooped.

    The beast grinned. ¡°Allow me to digress. Dahj, I am the Designer.¡± He extended one of his tentacles as if to mock shaking Dahj¡¯s hand. ¡°Imagine, very long ago, many rocks floating through space. Only one of these rocks, although completely and utterly barren, had many components essential to life. An atmosphere. Water. Hospitable temperatures for life. That''s where I come in. I was the first living thing here.¡±

    ¡°Spawned from nothing. Birthed from the planet itself. I was raised by no one. As I aged and self-taught, this world became my personal sandbox. I could make whatever I wanted, yet I was limited on tools.¡± Pinpoints of multi-colored lights flickered and danced from within the beast¡¯s head as he spoke or listened. His thoughts were visible. Some popped and burst, others shot to the barrier of his head as if attempting to escape.

    ¡°It has taken me a very, very long time to create the life inhabiting this planet as we speak. Bacteria, flora, fauna. All products of my imagination.¡± The creature paced the room, gesturing to pelts and bones as examples.

    ¡°In my creative space I quickly learned that I could not control the physical land. It seems to have a mind of its own. I was simply here to populate it. I needed a home for myself, so I created builders. I needed food as I simply did not have time to collect it for myself, which is why I created gatherers. Eventually, many species of plants grew rapidly and spread out of control. I created animals that fed off these plants to keep their spread in check.¡±

    Dahj shifted uneasily, thinking about the wolves that had attacked him.

    ¡°However,¡± the Designer said lowly as his flesh flashed a deep purple, ¡°before I knew it, millions of years had passed. I was so caught up in my work, always designing and producing new species, that the planet had become lawless. Species were ending up in regions where they were not supposed to be. This is where I decided I needed to develop a team to enforce only a couple of simple rules throughout the land.¡±

    ¡°One ¨C Animals will only feed off plants, for the purpose of nourishment. They will not feed off any other animal, for food or for sport,¡± the Designer listed.

    ¡°Two ¨C Species will keep to their designated region. Variety is the spice of life, but there are reasons specific species were strictly assigned to particular lands.¡±

    ¡°Obviously, these rules have been broken, in many instances, for quite some time now. This is where you come in, Dahj, and you, Brenloru,¡± the Designer said, turning back to the pair of herbivores.

    Brenloru nodded.

    ¡°You two are members of the first generation of Guardians; a work in progress. I have developed you to be far more capable than any other species. I have gifted you with multiple physical advantages in battle, should enforcement escalade to it. A couple of examples are the thumbs, and the erect postures. Two traits each of your respective species never possessed until now,¡± the Designer said, smiling again.

    Deep down, Dahj knew the land he walked on must have stretched farther than the furthest mountain ridge and the widest valley, but this was on a scale that he had never imagined. The concept of a ¡®planet¡¯ floating though space was something that had never crossed his mind ¨C this have been a sick prank constructed by his herd.

    ¡°I am taking notes based on what I have learned from this meeting, Dahj,¡± said the Designer. ¡°What worked, what didn¡¯t work. However, I can tell the land has selected a fine candidate for my experiment. The bison are a noble species. One that values togetherness and strategic execution of movement and utilization of their respective region. I¡¯m sure you were somewhat responsible for that, no?¡±

    Dahj nodded. ¡°And my death¡­ how would it lead me here?¡±

    ¡°You have a certain connection with the land now, Dahj. You are now able to utilize the elements surrounding you unlike any other animal in the world. Only I truly know how to harness the elements of the earth for the purpose of creation. To grant their powers to just any and every animal would be chaos. Take ¡®Land¡¯ for example.¡± His pale flesh flashed deep colors of browns, greens, and greys on command. ¡°When used properly, it can have healing properties.¡±

    The Designer gestured to Dahj¡¯s wounded arm. ¡°It¡¯s feeling much better, no?¡±

    Dahj looked at his shoulder and shrugged. ¡°No, not rea ¨C¡±

    Brenloru elbowed him sharply.

    ¡°When you fell, the land absorbed you. It protected you during your recovery. Therefore, your herd was unable to find your physical body,¡± the Designer said.

    ¡°So, injury, or nature of the fatality, dictates how long it takes for a Guardian to recover¡­¡± Dahj said. ¡°I do not remember how I died ¨C how long did the land have my body?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I have no idea exactly how long this process took. However, I¡¯m sure you were still partially blanketed by the land when you awoke, no?¡± the Designer replied confidently.

    Dahj nodded again, piecing the recent events together. His recovery. The plant-based blanket when he slept. Brenloru¡¯s utilization of herbs to attempt healing him¡­

    ¡°You are in harmony with the land, Dahj.¡± The Designer smiled. ¡°It will assist you in your time of need.¡±

    Dahj took a moment to process everything. Passion flared deeply in his chest, now puffed as he contemplated how being a strong leader, and a decent member of the land he walked had brought him to this point. He was selected for a reason. Breathing deeply, the stale air of the chamber he stood in the center of filled his lungs. He missed his herd, his routine, and his past. He knew in his soul, however, that they would all be proud of him should he accept this title.

    A tear dropped from his face and fell to the floor. The saline excretion fell into a small, standing pool of cave water with a splash that echoed through the chamber. ¡°So, what do you require of us now, then?¡± he asked through gritted teeth.

    ¡°To enforce the rules, of course,¡± the Designer replied coolly. ¡°Sure, there are only a couple for now, but in the grand scheme, this planet is still quite young. Things will change, develop, evolve. As must I.¡±

    ¡°If you say the planet is as big as you suggest, then how do the two of us have the slightest chance of¡­ policing the entire thing alone?¡± Dahj inquired.

    ¡°Excellent question,¡± the Designer replied gleefully. ¡°Soon, ideally, it will not just be you two. I have many more Guardians on the way to assist your journey.¡±

    ¡°First, I must find eligible species. Then, I allow nature to identify leaders ¨C individuals with outstanding character and a strong will. It¡¯s not exceptional power if it¡¯s just handed out, right? I will take successful aspects of your current state and apply them to the recipient¡¯s genome. This will consist of much trial and error, but it should work.¡±

    Dahj looked down at his hands again. He held his tongue before divulging to the Designer that they had, in fact, been quite useless thus far. This is really the best he can do? I can¡¯t even proficiently use these fingers, and my feet sink into the mud! Not to mention, Brenloru¡¯s bandage was not nearly as effective as he perceives.

    ¡°I started with the bison and the moose for a reason,¡± the Designer stated proudly. ¡°They are species that stick to the rules and respect the land. They have always fed off plants and kept to their territories.¡±

    The Designer digressed. ¡°As you may know, we are on the brink of winter. To send you out now would simply hinder you. It would be foolish to put you up against nature¡¯s challenges along with having to battle the elements. I have brought you here now to give you the chance to rest up. While residing here, you will have resources available to create tools that you may utilize when you are ready to reenter the field and begin your eternal task. You are welcome to use any material that is provided by the earth at your disposal. However, remember; they are to be used as methods to encourage others to follow the rules, plant or animal, and self-defense only. Not for aggression.¡±

    ¡°Now, I sincerely feel that this has been enough to take in for one session,¡± the Designer said. ¡°I trust that you will both find somewhere within my residence to make yourselves comfortable and digest what we have discussed today.¡±

    The Guardians nodded. Brenloru placed his hand on Dahj¡¯s shoulder and led him out of the room.

 Chapter 4: Guardians

    The morning after his meeting with the Designer, Dahj was finding it difficult to focus on the lunch laid before him. A plate consisting of dried grasses, fatty nuts, delicious seeds, and decorative flowers. Though it was generous and quite complex, Dahj had no appetite to consume it.

    Sitting across from him at the long, low legged table were various rodents and small mammals that frequently glanced at him or outright stared. They seemed to be easily distracted from their meal as well. Some too small to stand at the table, they would instead sit at the very edge near their tiny plates. Dahj, however, was struggling to find a comfortable way to approach the table with his new posture, and settled with kneeling. As he reached across the table to grab another stack of grasses with his hand, a few of the animals froze in disbelief. How quickly he forgot what an exceptional physical capability it was to grab things.

    ¡°What does it feel like?¡± inquired a beaver sitting across from him, eyes glued to the hand.

    ¡°New¡­ I suppose,¡± muttered Dahj dismissively. ¡°I¡¯ve had hooves my entire life. I¡¯d imagine it now feels similar to an appendage of your own, beaver.¡±

    The beaver nodded slowly as he resumed gnawing on his wooden meal with large front teeth.

    Dahj rose from the table, heading for the expansive hallways and snug corridors that led further into the mountain that neighbored the massive tree. It seemed every turn had a new room with a unique resident or specific purpose. Sloths and opossums hung lazily from branches within rooms that varied in size depending on the inhabitant. Amenities included piles of grass or tufts of hair as bedding, and small shelves dug out of rock walls for storage.

    It was clear that rodents had the task of residential design. Dahj passed common areas where mammals would intermingle, work together on digging new paths, or frolic in small puddles collected from the porous ceilings of the cave.

    Eventually, he came across a room stocked floor to ceiling with perfectly straight sticks, miscellaneous bones and rocks, and reeds of precisely measured lengths. A possum paced the floor of the room, organizing and taking inventory of his items.

    ¡°Excuse me¡­¡± Dahj said softly as not to startle the possum. ¡°What is all this?¡±

    The possum whipped around. ¡°Ah¡­¡± he said, eyes narrowed down his long snout. The possum had to strain his neck to look up at Dahj, causing his long mouth to hang open and exposed two sharp fangs.

    ¡°You must be Dahj. I wasn''t expecting your presence today.¡± There was a slight wheeze to his voice.

    ¡°You were expecting me?¡±

    ¡°Well yes!¡± the possum wheezed louder, forcing the air from his lungs. ¡°The Designer mentioned crafting ¡®defensive tools¡¯ to you, did he not?¡±

    ¡°And ¨C you''re gonna teach me how to craft these?¡± He eyed the small mammal up and down, unable to believe him.

    The possum laughed harshly, which turned to wheeze. ¡°Well yes! Us possum are one of the only species to be granted a thumb! We are truly proud of it. Without one, we would not be masters of our craft! Now come, let me teach you how to make a few defensive tools and the importance of each one.¡±

    For hours, Dahj and the crafter worked on many forms of tools. Dahj fumbled frequently when tying reeds; they were incredibly difficult to work with using his large thumb and leathery fingers. His dexterity needed a lot of practice. Luckily the possum¡¯s tiny fingers were able to meticulously attach rocks and sharpened bones to the end of sticks. He instructed Dahj how to sharpen spears and the importance of what materials he can utilize in nature.

    ¡°This one,¡± the crafter said proudly, ¡°is a bludgeon!¡± He wheezed as he lifted a smooth, rounded boulder firmly tied to the end of a sturdy log. ¡°Aim for the head with this one. And this one, is for jabbing near the ribs. That''s where the heart is!¡± He held up a perfectly straight stick, about half the height as Dahj with a sharp point. Reeds were tied around it, towards the base, forming a grip.

    ¡°Lastly is a hatchet.¡± The possum gestured to a project they had finished earlier. It was a sharp, triangular rock wedged and tied into a shorter, sturdy stick. ¡°That one''s not just for defense, you know! They are great for chopping and harvesting too!¡±

    Dahj took the three primitive, crudely made tools and felt the weight of each in his hands. He turned them over multiple times as he reveled at the concept of a bison holding such items. As he took a few practice swings in the air with the hatchet, he thought of his herd. What a difference these tools would have made when harvesting food or defending themselves from predators. These truly would have been a welcome gift during the harsh cold seasons.

    ¡°Just remember¡­¡± the possum said cautiously. ¡°These are for protection¡­ not aggression. You''ll need something to help carry these on your person¡­ I recommend visiting other crafters down the hall for a belt or some straps.¡±

    ***

    Dahj returned to his designated living quarters, which was no more than a hollowed-out room. There was one seat; a leveled space that had been gnawed around against the wall that made a platform. One small hole in the wall allowed light and fresh air to seep into the room.

    There was, however, a generous pile of grasses mixed with fur in the corner to sleep on. The smell of the bed was musty and odd ¨C like a collaboration of too many different mammals that he was not accustomed to sleeping with. He was now sporting three new tools, a belt crafted from reeds and small tufts of fur, and a sling to carry the spear on his back. The only thing he did not carry with him, was confidence.

    Information had recently been divulged quickly ¨C yet, he didn''t know the identity of his enemy yet ¨C or if he even had one. The job description the Designer had laid before him had been incredibly vague and possibly misleading. His credentials for the position he had mysteriously been elected for did not feel justified or deserved. Although he considered himself an effective leader, Dahj didn¡¯t make the connection from leading a group of bison around to feed, to fighting off vicious predators in the forest with a stick.

    Blankly staring at the simple paintings of various animals hung on the wall, Dahj desperately wracked his brain, attempting to recall the events that led to him ¡®falling¡¯. All he could retrieve were memories of his home fields. Migrating, feeding, leading. Keeping the herd in sight and ensuring everyone got their fill. In fact, at this time of year there was very little competition for the feeding grounds that the Kleeclok herd frequented, and predators were generally quite infrequent.

    He needed to clear his head. Perhaps another lap around the common area would help, as his room was beginning to make him feel claustrophobic.

    ***

    ¡°Check out this stud!¡± a raccoon called out as Dahj entered one of the smaller dining areas.

    The green Guardian did his best to crack a smile ¨C first impressions were always important. Even if Dahj was not interested in engaging a conversation, it was always polite to force some small-talk before moving on.

    Petite and fit, the raccoon that called for his attention was quite average for her species. Her fur was predominantly whiter than the average raccoon ¨C she did, however, sport a jet-black ¡®blindfold¡¯ that extended from ear to ear across her eyes.

    ¡°Isn''t that just the most capable bison I ever saw!¡± the raccoon continued. ¡°I guess you''re good for more than just clearing a field after all, eh?¡±

    ¡°And you, raccoon? You giant¡­ banded rodent,¡± Dahj teased back. ¡°What more purpose do you serve than a professional thief?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I fall under the category of gatherer¡­ friend. My name is Festelda,¡± she said with a broad smile, chest puffed and small hand extended.

    Dahj glanced at her tiny hand. Raccoons had also been the lucky recipients of thumbs recently, and it seemed she was utilizing them quite well. Small pouches made of patched grasses and reeds hung from a belt of similar materials, snugly tied to her waist. She was a gatherer indeed.

    Fascinating, Dahj thought. No one recommended tying pouches to my belt! Wonder what they carry.

    ¡°I wanted to wish you the warmest welcome and offer to go on a gathering mission with you. I excel at grabbing usable items quickly and can scale a tree in the blink of an eye!¡± Festelda said as she grabbed one of his fingers to shake. The size of their hands contrasted too greatly for a traditional handshake.

    ¡°You know what¡­ sure!¡± Dahj accepted. His desire to get some fresh air was growing, and it probably wouldn''t hurt to get to know the land a little better. Who better to learn from than a species that excels in stealth, snatching, and climbing? Climbing, he thought. I hope she doesn¡¯t expect me to scale a tree.

    ¡°Great, I¡¯m going to pay Parsun a visit and inquire about a list of desired products to refer to in the field. When you''re ready, I¡¯ll meet you in the Landing Room.¡± Flashing a broad smile, Festelda revealed two long canines.

    The sight of the sharp teeth made Dahj wince, which he was careful not to show.

    Thumbs and canines? Dahj¡¯s hands trembled. Was this creature really to be trusted? She seemed kind, but exhibited obvious predatorial characteristics.

    She wouldn¡¯t be allowed in the Homestead if she has killed in the past, right? Dahj questioned as he made his way to Brenloru¡¯s quarters. He wasn¡¯t going anywhere without consulting him first ¨C especially outside in the open with a predator.

    Rounding a corner, he nearly ran directly into the moose.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°Woah! Nice tools! Did you ¨C¡± Brenloru asked the frantic bison.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m about to be trapped,¡± Dahj interrupted.

    ¡°Trapped? By who? Dahj I seriously doubt that¡­ no predator has access to this area,¡± Brenloru assured calmly. Brenloru had expected this; Dahj¡¯s emotions were clearly fried after all the information he had been buried under.

    ¡°A raccoon. Her fur was lighter in tone than average. She seemed to know me? Invited me outside the Homestead to gather consumables. I said I would go,¡± Dahj said, steadying his breathing.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Brenloru exclaimed with a laugh. ¡°Little Festelda? She wouldn¡¯t hurt a chipmunk! No no no, she¡­ has quite a colorful history. Perhaps she will tell you sometime.¡±

    ¡°Will you come with us?¡±

    ¡°Sure! Why not. I could use a restock on my herbs.¡± Brenloru patted his waist to check if his mortar and pedestal was still in his possession. ¡°I¡¯m sure you will warm up to Festelda quickly, Dahj. She has a lot of potential here in the Homestead and possibly on our mission. She¡¯s been here for years. Deeply passionate about the preservation of the herbivore¡¯s territory and success in this region.¡±

    ¡°Does she know about the Designer?¡±

    ¡°Of course! She has met with him multiple times regarding the requirements for the title of ¡®Guardian¡¯. The first resident I have met with such tenacity for earning the responsibilities of the rank. Yet, surprisingly, nature has yet to choose her.¡± Brenloru grabbed the bison¡¯s hunch to lead him towards the Landing Room with reassurance.

    ¡°You know what, here,¡± Brenloru removed a pouch from his side. ¡°If we¡¯re going to be gathering, you should probably have something to carry your goods in!¡±

    Dahj thanked him for the generous donation, but was embarrassed to encounter the difficulty of tying it to his belt. His bumbling fingers already felt numb from being tweaked for hours to construct his tools.

    ***

    Festelda was already waiting in the Landing Room when Dahj arrived. Brenloru followed close behind. ¡°Let me help you with that!¡± she said, witnessing Dahj experience difficulty in fashioning his pouch to his belt. Her tiny fingers were far more dexterous and quickly wove the belt and bag together.

    ¡°It wouldn''t hurt to have a third join, and Brenloru had mentioned some herbs he desired for medicinal practice!¡± Dahj said quickly.

    ¡°Sure, hey Bren! I look forward to seeing what you can mix up!¡± Festelda said.

    For gathering trips, Brenloru would bring along a bowl-shaped stone and a small rounded rock he used to grind certain herbs together, causing them to release their medicinal oils. They were then stored together and allowed to blend. Depending on the quantity or mixture of certain herbs, different potencies were achieved. Some combinations were meant for quick spot healing, and others for long term placement on more grievous wounds. The medicinal moose heavily relied on the present state of the land for practice to be successful. Seasonality, regionality, and competition all dictated whether he was going to find the proper combinations of plants ¨C or come home empty handed.

    ¡°He could use the practice,¡± Festelda muttered out of the side of her mouth to Dahj as the moose approached.

    Dahj nodded in agreement, gesturing to the pathetic patch that had since withered and died, leaving his wound in a less-than-healed state.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Festelda asked. ¡°Got the list here. Parsun was happy to send out a capable team to do the gathering for him! Looks like we''re after some wild root vegetables, tree nuts, and as many edible grasses as we can carry.¡±

    ¡°Well then get your bags and grab a root, raccoon!¡± Brenloru boasted as he fumbled for his own list.

    Dahj wasn''t sure if he was ready for the sensation of being sucked through a root again ¨C the thought of whizzing though the dirt gave him motion sickness. After a deep breath, he took a sturdy step towards a root that seemed to be on the same path as the one Brenloru had taken. The shriveled root lazily hung from eroding dirt. He lifted his hand and squeezed the root with a wince.

    Moments later, he found himself on a familiar cliff face. His eyes squinted; sensitive to the enhanced sunlight reflecting off the snow-dusted valley below and cooler temperatures. The cold, dry air stung his nose and throat, causing him to cough deeply twice moments after landing.

    Luckily, they were not too deep into the frigid season yet, but this would probably be one of the last trips before it became too dangerous to exit the Homestead frequently. During the winter, temperatures of this region would drop well below freezing, and the ground would be covered in a deep layer of snow reinforced by a top layer of ice. Dahj¡¯s species, the bison, would eat as much as possible during the fall to store body fat necessary for surviving the harsh winters. To retrieve grass from under the deep layer of snow would cost their bodies more energy than they would gain.

    Dahj loved the bite of the crisp morning air, just on the brink of winter. There was always a hint of non-existent smoke in the air. Calls of birds no longer broke the silence, as they had recently headed south. The only white noise was the occasional sharp whisper of the wind. If only my family could see me now. They would call me spoiled! he thought.

    ¡°I¡¯m heading to the tree line, over there. I think I¡¯ll have luck with the nuts I''m looking for,¡± Festelda said. Her teeth had begun to chatter in the cold.

    ¡°I need to find small bodies of standing water that host the herbs I require¡­ hopefully the frost hasn''t killed them off already,¡± Brenloru grunted, descending the hill behind them.

    Well I guess the only other thing is the grasses¡­ Dahj realized. How ironic ¨C the one thing I''ve been harvesting my entire life¡­ Well, I guess it will give me a chance to try my new hatchet and pouches.

    Dahj commenced a rotation of harvesting. Working left to right, top to bottom, he would grab handfuls of grass, slice them at the stalks, and stack them neatly in the woven bag at his side with maximum efficiency. His young fingers grew colder with each snow-coated handful of grass. The gruesome nails collected dirt between them and his leathery skin. Moving them was becoming difficult in the cold, but it was good practice for dexterity of his new hands.

    Shaking his head, he wished he could just bite the grass rather than use this silly tool. I don¡¯t think anyone will want pre-chewed, slobber-covered dinner, though, he thought, and took another swing at the stalks.

    As his bag mounded with grasses of equal length, his chore was abruptly interrupted by a loud snarl from his right. Before he could turn, teeth sunk into his wrist. He roared in pain as the impact of the lunging wolf knocked the hatchet from his hand. Blood spurted from the puncture wounds, splattering across the pristine snow. The wolf yanked on the hand it had clasped onto, causing the wound to open further.

    The predator had successfully prowled through the deep blanket of snow and matted grasses to catch his prey by surprise. Clumps of ice clung to the hunter¡¯s belly from laying down multiple times during his approach.

    ¡°Another one?!¡± Dahj cried. Blood spurted from the bison¡¯s palm. That raccoon! I knew it! ¡°She sent you, didn¡¯t she!¡± he shouted, retrieving his bludgeon from his hip belt. Swinging before it, the weapon successfully connected with the side of the wolf¡¯s head with a dull crack. The reverberation sent through the hilt of the weapon startled Dahj, causing him to drop it. Initial pity for the animal was quickly overridden by survival instincts.

    Dazed and yelping, the wolf staggered before Dahj, teeth still bared. Down to one weapon remaining, Dahj reached for the long, pointed spear on his back to finish the aggressive beast. Before he could, the predator found stamina for a second assault. Planting its feet, it took a running start, kicking rocks and dirt behind him as his feet dug into the frosted soil.

    Dahj braced himself, tip of the spear extended. The beast lunged, and Dahj hesitated for a moment too long. Before he could blink, the predator was on top of him. Falling to his back forced the air from Dahj¡¯s lungs. He couldn¡¯t tell if the spear had pierced flesh, yet it had been knocked from his hands by force.

    Now pinned to the ground, Dahj¡¯s injured hand laid useless in the dirt next to him as he used his other to hold the animal back by the throat. Barking and snapping its teeth, the wolf tried desperately to grab a hold of Dahj''s face. As Dahj choked the beast, he felt a gripping sensation surrounding his injured hand. The tall grasses he had fallen into were slowly wrapping around his pathetic extremity like gauze. It felt like the grasses were trying to disable him; tie him to the ground and render his already-wounded limb completely useless ¨C then he remembered the plants that had blanketed him during his first nights in the forest.

    ¡°The land will assist you in your time of need,¡± the Designer''s voice echoed through his head. He just needed to hold on for a moment longer. Numbness spread from the opened bite wound throughout his hand. The bandage had dulled the pain, replacing it with confidence. Hemorrhaging blood quickly slowed to a trickle as it cooled and became sticky in the frigid air. Finally, after tying themselves into a tight knot, the grasses finished wrapping themselves around Dahj''s hand.

    The moment the bandage had completed itself, stones of various sizes were pulled to the padded fist, as if magnetized. Now armed with a fist of rock, Dahj turned back to the wolf. Anger and aggression filled the wolf¡¯s eyes; influenced by an unrelenting hunger for flesh, it would stop at nothing to hear the cracking of bone and taste blood. Dahj was witnessing a deeply-seated possession that controlled the wolf from within.

    Dahj mustered every ouch of strength he had left and concentrated it behind his fist of stone. With a loud shout and a solid right hood, he swung the sturdy fist and clobbered the side of the wolf¡¯s head. The dog went limp with a sharp yelp and dropped to its side. Blood trickled from its ear and stained the snow it had fallen on. The side of its torso was no longer rising. Its ribcage protruded next to a concave stomach.

    With the assistance of his spear, Dahj stood, breathing heavily. The stones surrounding his fist crumbled lightly as it reduced itself to rubble and fell to the ground, pebble by pebble like dripping water. The plant-based bandage remained tightly bound to his hand, shimmering in the sunlight as its healing properties continued to mend the bite wound.

    As Dahj scanned the surrounding valley to get his bearings, he locked eyes with another wolf that had shrouded itself in the shadows of a tree line. The wolf bared its teeth with a low growl as it decided to become the wounded bison¡¯s second contender.

    Before it had the chance to leap at Dahj, Festelda dropped from the lowest branch of the tree closest to the wolf. With a flying leap and a loud cry, she sank two daggers, made of wooden hilts and mountain lion teeth into the back of the wolf. The wolf let out a loud yelp and turned his head to snap at the source of the sudden pain. Still mounted on the spinning wolf, Festelda tightened her grip on the hilts and firmly pulled downwards, opening the wounds further.

    The wolf¡¯s coat slowly soaked red with blood as Festelda removed the daggers from the disabled beast with a quick jerk. She leapt from his back and landed in the frosted grasses with a light crunch. Eyes locked on the raccoon, the wolf stumbled, growling, before falling limp.

    Dahj let out a heavy sigh and dropped to his knees, nursing his wounded hand.

    ¡°Did you see me? Did you see me, Dahj?¡± Festelda asked excitedly.

    ¡°Heh. Yea, I did. You really stuck him,¡± Dahj replied through gritted teeth.

    ¡°No, I mean before. When I was on my way to the wolf. Did you see me? I''ve been working on my sneak attacks.¡± She smiled and winked at Dahj.

    Brenloru approached from behind Dahj and helped him to his feet.

    ¡°Oh, well in that case¡­¡± he said, offering his good hand to Brenloru, ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. You did great, Fes.¡±

    ¡°Another wolf pack, huh?¡± Brenloru asked as he scanned the horizon for any signs of additional beasts approaching. ¡°They are definitely drawn to you.¡±

    ¡°Suppose so.¡± Dahj inspected the bandage tied snugly around his hand. He could already feel the wound beneath the wrap beginning to close. Blood flow had stopped all together as the grass gauze reabsorbed blood that had been lost.

    ¡°Let me see that.¡± Brenloru grabbed the wounded hand.

    Dahj hissed. ¡°Watch it!¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Just reeds and some basic grasses. Yet, they shimmer vibrantly. Interesting,¡± the moose noted as he turned the hand.

    ¡°You get hurt and he uses it as a basic lesson for himself,¡± Festelda said sarcastically.

    ¡°The wolves ¨C where did they come from? Were there more?¡± Brenloru asked.

    ¡°No idea. Had my head down gathering¡­ gah! The food!¡± Chilled, severed grasses of equal length were scattered across the thin blanket of snow, disrupted by frantic footsteps of three separate animals. They had been thrown from his pouch during the tussle.

    ¡°I¡¯ll gather those. You rest,¡± Festelda insisted, collecting Dahj¡¯s personal effects.

    ¡°Let¡¯s head back to the tree and I¡¯ll heal that right up,¡± Brenloru promised.

    ¡°Doubt it,¡± Festelda teased, walking beside the moose. She nudged his leg with her elbow.

    ¡°Sorry for doubting you, raccoon.¡± Dahj mumbled under his breath as he allowed Brenloru and Festelda to gain distance, moving towards the Homestead. He rubbed the hand that had been encased in rocks while at the raccoon.

 Chapter 5: Carnivores Design

    Dahj spent the first couple of days resting after returning to the Homestead. He feared that his recklessness and neglect to pay attention to his surroundings were due to extreme fatigue. It had been a rough ¡®awakening¡¯ for him. Going forward, mental strength and focus would be just as important as physical strength.

    Distractions needed to be eliminated, Dahj decided as he picked away another failed bandage Brenloru had offered. Utilizing herbs the moose had stored within the Homestead, some relief had been provided this time, but the concoction did nothing to speed up the process of healing.

    Dahj found peace when visiting the underground gardens and farming plots the animals had constructed. Depressions in the largest tunnels of the weaving cave system that led into the mountain side from the massive cedar tree were filled with soil and natural fertilizers. Seeds were spread by the tending animals to grow their own food to sustain the community through winter.

    Small gaps in the ceiling of the shallow tunnels were purposefully caved-in to allow sunlight to pour over the underground plots of land. Photosynthesis could still occur, but cold air could only slightly seep in, preventing the bite of frost from killing the plants. The animals were limited to growing root crops and other durable, winter-season vegetables; things that didn¡¯t mind the dark, dank conditions of tunnel farming. Potatoes were the most harvested item, but anything helped to feed the community. Farming also offered a hobby to stimulate the inhabitants during the boring cold streak.

    Dahj had offered to assist in farming frequently for multiple reasons. Digging and grabbing was a good way to train the dexterity of his hands. His leathery hands easily excavated the soft, moist soil off the tunnels, and his handfuls were much larger than the rodent¡¯s, making quick work of the trenches. Farming also took his mind off more worrisome topics such as his herd or the predators. Lastly, after a lifetime of a grass-based diet, he looked forward to expanding his palate and trying something home-grown.

    ***

    As the temperature outside the tree rapidly dropped, common areas became more populated by mammals that would huddle close together for warmth and fantasize about what they wanted to do once spring came. Some reminisced about visiting the rivers or lakes to bathe and play. Others made promises of physical feats such as climbing the highest mountain or building the biggest dam anyone has ever seen.

    Once the animals exhausted their ideas, some would fall asleep, leaving only the sound of dripping water that came through the ceiling. Morale was generally low at this time of year within the Homestead ¨C Dahj was unsure if it was related to the looming threat of evolving predators in the area, or just the annual harsh weather.

    Sitting at a large wooden table in the commons area, Dahj inspected his two remaining defensive tools. Brenloru had been unable to find the hatchet knocked from his hand during the wolf attack, as it had imbedded itself under a deep layer of snow.

    ¡°Potatoes, again?¡± complained a young chipmunk as his mother delivered dinner. ¡°I want the red squishies!¡±

    ¡°Squishies? What are you talking about? This is what we have available to us. Its winter¡­¡±

    ¡°Red squishies!¡± the child protested.

    ¡°You mean berries? I¡¯m sorry dear, those simply aren¡¯t available right now. In a few months when you¡¯re older we will return to our forest and look for the red squishies.¡±

    Chuckling lightly to himself as Brenloru approached, Dahj realized he wasn¡¯t the only one craving spring¡¯s comforts such as berries or warmer weather.

    ¡°We need to visit the Designer,¡± Brenloru said flatly over Dahj¡¯s shoulder as the eavesdropping bison continued to roll the weapon over in his hands. ¡°Something is off and our recent experiences out in the land are not something to be ignored. We cannot become afraid to leave the tree. I sense we are being hunted.¡±

    ***

    Dahj and Brenloru were welcomed into the Designer''s chamber immediately. They were two of his proudest accomplishments, after all. When asked how everything had been developing, they hastily explained in detail the two separate instances with the wolves. It couldn¡¯t have been a coincidence. These animals were drawn to Dahj, and aggressively.

    The Designer''s face stayed relatively unchanged throughout both accounts. Visible thoughts sparked and popped from within the Designer¡¯s translucent, bulbous head as he processed the statements, though the activity was low and unimpressed. Small shots of reds and yellows were projected throughout as he processed certain words like ¡®ambushed,¡¯ ¡®hunted,¡¯ and ¡®overly aggressive¡¯.

    When they had finished recounting their experiences, the Designer slithered back to his massive desk. His body flushed from a greenish brown to a pale grey; signifying worry or threat. Two of his tentacles rolled various teeth and bones back and forth, inspecting them thoroughly. The large teeth appeared to be those of a carnivore. Long and sharp; used for grabbing and pulling. These teeth were meant for keeping prey in the attacker¡¯s mouth. Other teeth the Designer held had multiple ridges with sharp points. They belonged in the back of a predator''s mouth, used for tearing and chewing flesh.

    Gas-like clouds of deep blue and purple swirled from within the Designer¡¯s head and torso, visible through his translucent skin as he paced the room. ¡°You know, it¡¯s a tall order to be expected to create diversity on a barren planet. I am going to tell you two something that I have never told another animal living here.¡± His skin flashed a pale granite color, concealing the gas clouds that swirled within.

    Brenloru and Dahj gazed at him, almost afraid to hear what he had to say.

    ¡°It seems backwards for me to create all these animals that live harmoniously off the land, only to turn around and design ruthless killing machines to hunt the defenseless little creatures,¡± he continued, voice shaking slightly. ¡°It would be quite irresponsible for me to do after instating such rigid rules¡­ Well, that''s because I didn''t design these feral killers.¡±

    Dahj raised an eyebrow as Brenloru stepped back, looking slightly betrayed.

    ¡°A long time ago, when I was simultaneously developing both plants and animals, I was feeling overwhelmed. There was simply too much going on. As I tried to make the planet¡¯s regions as diverse as possible, previous projects that I had ignored for too long were slipping away from my influence. Species of both flora and fauna were crossbreeding. Plants and animals alike were turning up in unintended regions. I was losing control on the spread of my own creations,¡± the Designer said as his body color flushed from pale grey to an embarrassed yellow.

    ¡°I sought the assistance of a colleague that I had designed myself; a cunning creature with supreme attributes such as strength, size, speed, and stealth, with the intention of having a second pair of eyes and ears to monitor the spread of my projects. I gave her the tools she would need to not only help control my projects, but create some of her own.¡± The Designer tossed a tooth up in the air with one tentacle to catch it with another. ¡°She started out with simple things such as decorative plants. In fact, she is responsible for most of the world¡¯s flowers. She liked the pretty things.¡± He scoffed, then turned to inspect charts hung on the wall of his residence.

    ¡°We worked together, side by side for a very long time in this tree. Sometime through our relationship, I became so focused on species development that I stopped leaving the tree to monitor the land around me. This entailed designing plants that would combat other quickly-spreading species of flora. My assistant suggested that I grant some the capabilities of suffocation, poisoning, or consuming others. I agreed, thinking it would be a suitable method to cut-back the more obnoxious, dominant ones.¡±

    ¡°Then, I experienced the same issues with animals¡­ On multiple occasions, my assistant and I discussed how certain quickly-reproducing animals; such as rabbits or rats were exceeding appropriate numbers in their population growth ¨C just like the plants! The regions they were native to simply could not handle the traffic of such quickly-spreading rodents and other small mammals. Lands were being torn up. Fecal matter was excessive. Disease was spreading. It was out of my hands.¡± The Designer shook his head in regret.

    ¡°I had developed them to be tied to certain regions, so they did not feel comfortable moving. I gave them a large appetite, which resulted in pressure on native plants. I gave them the ability to reproduce quickly; anticipating a low infancy survival rate. The Designer moved to a nearby wall to inspect various pelts of small mammals displayed against it.

    ¡°My first option was to communicate with the Souls of this planet,¡± he continued, brushing a rabbit pelt with his long tentacle. ¡°I requested that they change the weather of certain areas ¨C to make the environment inhospitable to these small creatures. However, the mammals simply evolved new pelts themselves and methods of dealing with harsh climates. Others simply burrowed and slept through the cold. Insects would lay eggs and die in the winter, only to have the eggs they had left behind hatch in the spring. Fascinating, really. They were far more stubborn than I had anticipated.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°So, what method ended up cutting back the population of these various creatures?¡± Dahj asked.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s where she comes in.¡± The Designer held up one of the teeth he had been fiddling with nervously in his rocky tentacle. ¡°Carnivorous predators. She added another tier to the food chain¡­ At first, I was cautious about granting her such power, but when I saw the results, I knew that this was the only way to put a dent in these species¡¯ overwhelming population.¡±

    ¡°She promised that her population growth would be far more throttled. That a pair of mammals would only bear a single offspring. That their lifetime would be much longer and their appetite fierce. I allowed her to introduce her proudest achievements. Long, sharp teeth within a powerful jaw. Sets of four claws. Exceptional vision in darkness and desire to hunt in packs. Low profiles and the ability to prowl unseen, and unheard.¡±

    ¡°Wolves and mountain lions were her first projects, then,¡± The Designer paused as he picked up a bear claw, ¡°she stole species that were once herbivores, designed only to consume plants; such as the bear. They were content with their diet of berries, seeds, and brush. Then I caught wind of instances of bear attacks. They had begun eating other animals. They sought flesh in viscous, overpowering assaults. When I approached her about it, she lied. Claimed she had no idea what caused this behavior.¡± His body flashed a furious red before slamming his tentacle on the wall through a hanging pelt in frustration. The tooth he held shattered and fell to the floor, fragmented. ¡°Next were badgers and wolverines. Some stayed loyal, such as a few individuals harbored in this very tree, though others grew long teeth and claws and could not ignore their hunger for flesh. They, too, committed aggravated assaults on smaller creatures.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ you want war? To end this?¡± Dahj asked slowly.

    ¡°No, no, never war¡­ I hope.¡± The Designer shifted his seemingly liquid-filled body with a slosh. It calmed from a heated red to a blueish-purple. ¡°Like I said¡­ you are Guardians,¡± I just need assistance while I try to come up with a non-violent solution to this problem. I have begun to prepare the residents with the tools they need, along with an escape route, should they begin to encroach on the Homestead.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, eventually she left as the result of a verbal altercation. I wanted her out. I told her I no longer wanted her influence on my land, but it was too late. I had given her tools and information she needed to continue her dominance. At this point, it was clearly no longer about population control. It was about converting every herbivore to carnivorous habits and pushing me out of my position of Lead Designer.¡±

    ¡°So, what do you need from us?¡± Dahj asked sternly. Adrenaline coursed through his veins.

    ¡°More time, while you gain the four blessings of the planet ¨C before she does.¡± The Designer¡¯s body paled back to its natural, nearly translucent state. Stimulated, visible responses, thoughts, and plans darted through his head. Colorful sparks popped as the Designer thought about the earth¡¯s Souls.

    Dahj raised an eyebrow. ¡°The blessings of the planet... You mean, like when the plants surround me¡­ or when the rocks attached to my fist?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± the Designer replied with a smile on his face. ¡°There are powerful souls of the planet that represent each element. Land, Atmosphere, Aquatic, and Reclamation. At some point during my project on earth, I found that I could communicate with them, and sought their approval for my projects to continue. I persuaded Land to allow me to grow plants and inhabit dry ground with animals, once we agreed on certain areas that would be inhospitable to any life. I convinced Aquatic to welcome creatures to both fresh and salt-water based habitats. Atmosphere was even excited about the new life in a once absent airspace and helped develop birds based on the rules of the sky. Reclamation¡­ was more difficult. I had very little time with him before he ended the alliance.¡±

    ¡°But, I already have Land¡¯s powers¡­¡± Dahj said. ¡°Why not the other three?¡±

    ¡°I have recently lost alignment with all four,¡± The Designer replied softly. ¡°I feel my powers weakening. I still possess their blessings, but just barely. Since the end in communication, weather patterns, natural disasters, and shifts in the earth¡¯s crust have become far more intense and nearly impossible to predict. I fear it is because she got to them first.¡±

    ¡°Somehow, you have already gained Land¡¯s powers ¨C probably due to your demonstration of outstanding leadership through your life. They are two-fold. Physical fortification, and powers of rejuvenation; which your friend Brenloru here has begun to study diligently. Your body is growing more resilient, and the land responds to your physical wounds.¡±

    Dahj made a tight fist as he suddenly felt very aware of the sturdy horns atop his head.

    ¡°I need you to find the Souls, and request their blessing,¡± the Designer said, narrowing his eyes on Dahj.

    ¡°Where do I even start? This region is far more expansive than I originally perceived.¡± Dahj thought back to the description of the planet the Designer had given him. Vast continents separated by sprawling oceans. Mountains that led into the sky, jutting above seemingly endless valleys.

    ¡°These are the key ¨C my appendages.¡± The Designer gestured to his elemental extremities. ¡°Each used to possess the power of a unique element. They once coursed with power that I could apply to my creations and use to shape the land at my will. Now, they have grown weak.¡±

    Dahj inspected each tentacle closer. One that once burned brightly had extinguished; only embers smoldered. Atmosphere was considerably deflated. Aquatic had shriveled. Land appeared to be made of mere rubble.

    ¡°I need you to visit unique geographical features throughout the land that strongly represent the corresponding element. Attune my respective appendage in each location to regain elemental harmony. Once fully charged, I should be able to resume communication with the proper Soul and narrow-in on their current location.¡± The Designer articulated each of his empowered tentacles separately.

    Dahj shook his head, dumbfounded. ¡°Which one should we start with?¡±

    ¡°Begin with Land. I trust you are quite familiar with it, no? It was not a coincidence that I chose a leader of the forest, and one of the plains.¡± The Designer grinned at his specimens. ¡°Rocks¡­ wood¡­ anything of chlorophyll will satiate its thirst for power, as long as the place is special.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a wild shot in the dark, but it¡¯s all I¡¯ve got,¡± the Designer said, voice shaking. ¡°The threat continues to press closer. My creations will soon become extinct. I will lose my power to manipulate the elements at my will. I will have no purpose here. I need to find the Souls and resume my legacy on this planet.¡±

    The Designer firmly grasped his appendage that represented the power of land using a free tentacle. With a firm tug and a deep grunt, he removed it from his body, leaving a fleshy, empty socket. The vacant hole swirled with blues and purples. He approached Dahj, holding out his own severed arm. Dahj took the arm hesitantly and tucked it away in a pouch at his side.

    ¡°What will you do in the meantime?¡± Brenloru inquired as he resisted the urge to shutter.

    ¡°Continue to develop defensive traits. Horns, hooves, and speed have helped our herbivores, but only for so long. We need something more. I am pleased to see that your bodies have adapted well to an erect posture and apposable thumbs¡­¡± the Designer replied as he turned back to the pelts displayed against his chamber wall. ¡°With the assistance of your defensive tools, we may just be able to hold them back for a little longer. I look forward to finding which species turns out to truly be the ¡®fittest¡¯ Guardians.¡±

    ***

    Dahj followed Brenloru into a private room down a hallway of the main tree where they could decompress. Retrieving the lent appendage from his side pouch locked him in a trance while rolling it in his hand. It was incredibly fragile. Small pieces of rubble would crumble with light crackles and pops before falling to the floor if he wasn''t careful with it. The smell of pungent soil mixed with gasses ¨C Dahj suspected ¨C filled the air.

    ¡°We need to think of places to start ¨C places in the region where the appendage can empower itself,¡± Brenloru mumbled. ¡°And quit that! If you don''t stop playing with it, he''s not gonna have any left!¡±

    Dahj grumbled and stuffed the lifeless arm back into the sack he wore around his waist. It crumbled pitifully.

    ¡°Strongly represent the element of land¡­¡± Brenloru muttered under his breath.

    ¡°A forest?¡± Dahj guessed as he leaned back in his chair.

    ¡°Sure, sure¡­ a forest. We''ll find the deepest, densest forest we can ¨C just teeming with life. One with a healthy amount of ground cover and a beautiful canopy. One that never runs dry but also never saturates.¡± Brenloru stared intently as if he already knew the perfect place.

    ¡°How about the tallest plateau we can find, then the deepest canyon?¡± Dahj said, referencing his herd¡¯s old winter resting ground; it possessed a certain charm.

    ¡°Yes. And the widest valley backdropped by triumphant mountains. And then the creepiest cave we can muster up the guts to spelunk!¡± Brenloru said before howling in laughter.

    ¡°One time, I was out foraging with a herd mate. It was soon after we arrived in this area ¨C after migrating south from the frigid north. My buddy and I, we found ourselves a cave at the top of a mountainous ridgeline. We waited until the sun was shining right into it, around early sunset; this way we could see as far back as possible, you know. We were fascinated by this place¡­ a massive opening, yet heavily protected by various encroaching roots and jagged rocks.¡± Brenloru stared deeply into the wall ahead of him, as if looking into the cave he was referencing.

    ¡°As we approach the mouth of the cave, a deep, raspy growl echoed throughout. We both jumped back.¡± Brenloru mimicked the shock in his face. ¡°I looked up to catch two oval, yellow eyes, deep within. The sun refracted off the eyes, causing them to explode in vibrant brilliance. The color was intimidating, yet soothing. I''ll never forget it.¡± Brenloru¡¯s voice calmed as he scratched his narrow, white beard, nodding. ¡°Yes. I''d like to go there. I can tell that place was special.¡±

    ¡°Deal,¡± replied Dahj, satisfied. ¡°With our knowledge of the land combined, this should be a quick journey. I don''t believe we should need to venture far to find powerful places.¡±

    ¡°I think you and I can both agree it will be better to wait for spring to begin our venture, no?¡± Brenloru said sternly. ¡°There is no reason to attempt battling the elements while avoiding the hunt of predators. You heard the Designer. Weather patterns and natural disasters are becoming more frequent and intense.¡±

    Dahj looked deflated, but Brenloru was right. They could use the spare time until spring to rest up. Practice combining herbs for medicinal purposes, and craft additional defensive tools. It wouldn¡¯t hurt to get to know more of the residents of Cedar Homestead; perhaps some would have directions to grand places.

    ¡°You have my assistance as well.¡±  Festelda exited the shadows into the room where Dahj and Brenloru had been plotting. ¡°You both know I love this area we call home just as much as you do, and I want to offer my navigation, and my daggers!¡± She gripped the hilts of her teeth-daggers proudly.

    ¡°I suppose you do scale a tree quite well¡­¡± Brenloru smiled.

    ¡°And your skills in concealment are clearly superb,¡± Dahj said to the little eavesdropper.

 Chapter 6: Reblex

    The peculiar group of allied herbivores managed to burn away weeks of winter by studying their craft in small tools and medicines. Festelda had taken a short leave from the Homestead to gather poisonous flora indigenous to the area. By carefully extracting a plant¡¯s toxic trait, she could concentrate them into a potent cocktail. Any contact with the skin or ingestion could cause physical incapacity or death.

    Powders would send the consumer into a deep slumber. Mushrooms offered spores that asphyxiated when inhaled. Nettles irritated skin and blinded eyes. Naturally secreted oils of vine plants paralyzed muscles when entering the blood stream through open wounds. Festelda kept her concoctions meticulously labeled and stored them in small pouches made of waterproof reeds around her waist.

    Upon returning to the homestead, she shared her techniques to a focused group of raccoons, badgers, and small rodents through weekly teachings. Her classes consisted of life-saving defensive tactics such as: the importance of sticking to the shadows, and always having a vantage over a predator by utilizing the tallest trees. Appropriate situations to use a specific poison, powder, spore, or nettle. How do dispose of an incapacitated body to avoid alerting other hunters. Staying silent when approaching enemies. All of these skills ¨C when combined and properly applied ¨C could be the difference between being found, or escaping death. Furthermore, she provided instruction on how to escape, should an herbivore be caught by a predator.

    Brenloru and Dahj beamed with pride as they witnessed Festelda boast her craft.  Dahj was impressed that someone cared for this land as much as he did. Though she lacked the title of Guardian, the young raccoon was well on her way to becoming a fine candidate for the rank.

    On the first day of spring, Dahj stood on a vantage point at the very top of the trunk of the great cedar tree, just beneath the crown. Beavers had crafted a small platform that extended out from a doorway burrowed into the bark of the Homestead. Various animals would use this sky-high platform to dutifully keep watch over the surrounding land in shifts.

    The scenery at this time of year comforted Dahj while residing on the platform for deep contemplation. His perspective nearly matched that of the surrounding mountain peaks. Satiated, he concluded that he would no longer need to embark on such a daunting hike to achieve a bird¡¯s-eye view of his homelands.

    The drastic temperature difference on either side of his body offered a unique sensation. Frigid wind that traveled up the face of the tree clutched his chest like icy tendrils while warm, humid air wafted up the inside of the cylindrical tree and soothed his back. The annual snow cover was almost completely gone, and rays of sun refracted through morning dew droplets coating the field.

    Spring was normally a sign of success. With the assistance of his secondary leaders, he would count heads to see who made it through the harshest season of the year. Everyone would be rounded up and they would begin their journey back north as one.

    Brenloru crossed the threshold behind Dahj as he cleared his throat to gain his attention. ¡°There''s someone I want you to meet, friend,¡± he said with a grin.

    ***

    The pair made their way down to a resting room. Dug into an intricate root network of the tree, the floor was dirt littered with needles, leaves, and small stones. Roots intertwined over them in a dome shape to form a porous roof in the fashion of mangroves. Sunlight and chilled air poured into the room through gaps between the weaving root network.

    A horned animal laid on his back on a wooden table that matched the creature¡¯s height, located in the very center of the chamber. Malleable branches, vines and leaves loosely covered his still body. Deciduous flora had died after being drained of their donated nourishment. They laid crumpled and exhausted around the table the beast rested on.

    ¡°Is he¡­?¡± Dahj started to ask.

    ¡°Healing, yes.¡± Brenloru nodded, eyes lock on the beast in slumber. ¡°And he''s just about wake.¡±

    Two sturdy, curved horns sprouted out of either side of the beast¡¯s skull, just above his ears. They curled three hundred and sixty degrees before coming to pointed tips adjacent to the side of his head. He had slim, toned arms, but strong hands. As Dahj approached the table to inspect the hands, he noticed they resembled his own. What were once hooves had split down the middle, replaced by four fingers. Slightly more developed than Dahj''s, the resting beast¡¯s five fingers were leathery and gruesome, yet much longer, and slenderer. Dahj supposed it was related to the original size of the respective animal¡¯s hooves; bison¡¯s being blunter, and more rounded ¨C while this creature¡¯s had been elongated.

    ¡°He was once a ram¡­¡± Dahj guessed as he lightly dusted away some of the dead plants that had healed the animal, exposing more of his torso. The creature¡¯s legs were wide and powerful from scaling cliffs. His pectoral muscles were shallow and lean, pulled across a prominent, narrow chest.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Brenloru replied, gesturing towards the powerful, curved horns. ¡°He had roamed his area for many years. Quite territorial, this one. Proud, too. He died trying to protect friends and family from bears that wanted to seize the area.¡±

    ¡°A pack of bears? I''ve never heard of such a thing,¡± Dahj replied.

    ¡°Well, generally they don¡¯t move in herds. However, their area to roam was growing smaller and smaller with every bear that was introduced. This hero, Reblex, did what he could to guide dozens of his species to safety for as long as he could,¡± Brenloru said.

    Dahj continued to inspect the stranger, first looking over his face. His features were still in an awkward stage of transition, as this was only his first awakening. His eyes were too far apart. Nose long, mouth low and small. Ears tall and slightly pointed. Multiple scars ran down his face and neck that had sealed deep wounds, brought with him from a previous life.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    His hair was short and patchy, but covered most of his face and slim torso. The ram¡¯s back, however, was much straighter and lacked the exaggerated hunch Dahj still featured in his posture. Yet, standing, the ram¡¯s height would have only met the bison¡¯s shoulders, if not shorter. Dahj had heard tales about the crack that echoes through the mountain ranges when rams butt heads, and hoped he would stay on Reblex¡¯s good side!

    The plants that blanketed the hero began to rustle. Vines and roots snugly tied around the ram¡¯s body slowly withered and retreated, just before Reblex¡¯s eyes shot open. He took a deep, wheezing breath and sharply arched his back.

    ¡°Where¡­ where am I?¡± The ram looked around wildly. ¡°Where is my¡­¡±

    Brenloru approached the table, hushing lightly and offering the ram a handful of consumable tranquility herbs to relax his mind.

    ¡°You are going to have many questions, I know that,¡± Brenloru said in a soothing tone. ¡°I need you to stay calm and come with us.¡±

    ¡°The bears¡­ I need to get back to my range. I need to¡­ My hooves! What is wrong with my hooves?¡± Reblex¡¯s face turned bright red as he swatted away the offered herbs that only seemed to stress him further.

    Leaping from the table, Reblex identified the exit of the chamber with haste. Digging his toes into the ground, he charged. Lacking adequate control over his hind legs, he quickly stumbled before sharply veering right ¨C directly towards the rock wall opposite the arching, porous roots. A loud crack rang through the room, leaving behind a vertical split that ran through a wave-shaped impact point where his horns had met rock. Reblex stumbled back and landed on his rear.

    ¡°Everything,¡± Brenloru said calmly as he helped the confused ram to his feet, ¡°will be explained.¡±

    Reblex¡¯s hind legs shook violently.

    ***

    Reblex stood in front of the Designer wearing the same expression Dahj had during his first council within the chamber of creation. ¡°And you have no idea how long I''ve been out¡­ or where my family is?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, my friend. I easily lose track of time.¡± The Designer turned towards Dahj and Brenloru. ¡°I have put all of my faith in these two; I truly believe they will be able to re-empower my appendages and find the elemental Souls of this planet. When that is done, the carnivores will have no other choice than to redesign their appetites.¡±

    ¡°We would like to elect Festelda to match our rank and responsibilities as well, Designer,¡± Brenloru proposed.

    ¡°I suspected she was heading down that route,¡± the Designer grinned. ¡°She has demonstrated exceptional dedication to the cause. I will see what I can do.¡±

    ¡°Reblex. How have you decided to proceed? I need an answer so that I may continue with¡­ adjustments,¡± the Designer lightly hissed.

    ¡°I, yes. I will defend my land. I have no other choice, I suppose. But I am dedicated to the cause,¡± Reblex replied cautiously before firmly slapping his right horn twice with his new hand. He was unable to keep eye contact with the Designer for very long; something about the translucent, gelatinous beast was unsettling.

    The Designer narrowed his eyes on Reblex. ¡°You possess a unique power that sets you apart from the rest of your species, ram.¡± His pallid flesh flushed a deep red. ¡°I have heard tales of you bludgeoning multiple bears to unconsciousness using only the blunt weapons atop your head.¡±

    Reblex hesitated as if he was going to be chastised for his actions.

    ¡°I must inquire. What do you feel? Where does this unbridled power come from?¡± The Designer slithered towards the ram for inspection. He desired to retrieve a sample of Reblex in order to duplicate him. Just a little fur, or skin.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Reblex replied, shaking slightly. His cheeks turned pink as he slowly backed away from the encroaching tentacles. ¡°When I know myself, or any of my blood are in danger, everything turns fuzzy. I just dip my head and run straight for them.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough¡­¡± The Designer seemed disappointed, as if expecting a more straightforward answer with an exact definition of how he ¡®unlocked¡¯ this unique strength. He shifted, slightly unsettled.

    The Designer¡¯s flesh neutralized back to a sickly translucent, unable to flash his deep land-tones now that he lacked the respective appendage. ¡°Just remember the rules, ram; these powers are for defensive measures only. I don¡¯t want to find out you¡¯ve been headbutting half the forest seeking some kind of ¡®revenge¡¯. The breeds out there are of a different generation ¨C ones you have never encountered.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir. My actions are in the name of the land. I will honor that,¡± Reblex replied honestly.

    The Designer turned back to Dahj and Brenloru. ¡°Spring is here. I trust you have had time to prepare your arsenal and map your places of exceptional representation?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Brenloru replied, stepping forward. ¡°We have chosen to find the highest plateau, the deepest canyon, the darkest cave, the densest forest, and the widest valley we possibly can. We will approach these places and achieve harmony with your appendage. Only then will we return to you. We think we know just the spots.¡±

    ¡°All of those sound perfectly obtainable in this region, Guardians,¡± the Designer replied with a wide smile on his face. ¡°Do you know why I chose this area for my homestead?¡±

    Dahj and Brenloru glanced at each other, shaking their heads.

    ¡°To the far southeast of us, lies a place of incredible power.¡± The Designer retrieved a crude map and gestured to a region foreign to the Guardians.

    ¡°At first, I was afraid to populate it at all due to its supernatural geological features and unpredictable landscape. Despite its beauty in the summer, the region is nearly inhospitable in the winter. Myths whispered of scalding water that shoots from the ground directly into the air, and bubbling pools of viscous mud. Ponds with incredible depths decorated with an array of vibrant colors. It features one of the deepest canyons on the continent and many of the highest peaks. I believe it to be a special collaboration of all four of the planet¡¯s Souls.¡± The Designer manipulated his three remaining appendages in an alternating fashion. The fourth, severed appendage writhed along from within Dahj¡¯s hip pouch as if still connected to the Designer.

    The Designer slowly paced the room as he boasted the place of power. ¡°Land has crafted the terrain to perfection; an image of what he wishes the entire planet could reflect. Aquatic offered many of the tallest falls, widest rivers, and grandest lakes that are now teeming with colorful fish. Atmosphere provides gusts of clean oxygen across the pristine land to fuel the ongoing spread of diversity. Most importantly, underneath the crust of it all, Reclamation stokes the heat that makes this place unique. The entire region is now known as an active ¡®super volcano¡¯. It is truly a place of magic.¡±

    Colorful beads and strings representing the various elements shot through the Designer¡¯s head as he recalled the stunning beauty of the unique landscape. ¡°My one wish is that you visit this place for at least one of the locations you mentioned to empower my appendage.¡± The Designer seemed to be delighted to explain this mythical place. His skin flushed various elemental colors as his excitement to live vicariously through the Guardians grew stronger.

    ¡°Every day, I yearn to visit the area at least once more. Alas, I am trapped in my research dungeon. Allow me to live vicariously through you ¨C visit a place I may never get to again, Guardians. It is truly an experience anyone should witness at least once.¡±

 Chapter 7: Secrets Beneath Snowfall

    ¡°Gotcha¡­¡± said the banded assassin. She held her tooth-dagger held to the helpless opossum¡¯s throat. Her other hand gripped his, twisting it behind his back.

    Gasping desperately, the opossum exposed razor-sharp canines. Saliva frothed in the corners of his mouth as he tightened his grip on the wrist that wielded a weapon. Heat radiated from his assailant¡¯s white-knuckled hand towards his throat. If it was not for the sensation of the deadly object near his jugular, his attacker¡¯s body heat and smell would have been the dead giveaways of her closeness.

    The tip of the tooth-dagger prodded into his neck, centimeters away from his carotid artery. Steadying his breathing, he attempted to calm himself ¨C should he expand his skin any further from deep breaths, the tip of the bone-knife would easily pierce his taut throat.

    Releasing his grip from her wrist, the opossum slashed at the face that hovered behind his own. His barrage of hacking slashes was unsuccessful, just before he was kicked in the back, causing him to fall to his knees. By the time he turned around to find her, she was gone.

    Numerous shadows cast through the already dim room by vastly protruding vertical ripples in the wood walls. Burrowed with haste, the walls of this room of the Cedar Homestead had never been filed down evenly. Every protruding section offered a suitable hiding place for the assassin attempting to claim the possum¡¯s life.

    Quickly crawling on all fours, the possum scurried to the closest nook he could reach to back himself into a corner made of wood. The edges were rough and unforgiving. He feared his hind end would gather a splinter from the gnawed surface of the unfinished project. As he extended his arm to pat the ground surrounding him, his pupils dilated in the darkness just enough to notice a small weapon made of tooth and a wooden hilt. It was one of the assassin¡¯s daggers; dropped during the tussle.

    Hand shaking from adrenaline, he desperately extended his paw towards the same weapon that had recently been placed against his throat; now abandoned in darkness. Just as his claws scraped the hilt of the dagger, a small black hand shot from the shadows to smack his own. A light, open-palmed slap was all it took to send his hand into blinding pain. The sharpness of the throbbing ache forced him to release a shriek. Although no flame had illuminated the dim room, he felt as if his hand had been set on fire in an instant.

    ¡°Nettles!¡± he cried before his last yell could finish reverberating off the dense walls surrounding him. His eyes darted back to the area where he had first spotted the dagger. It was gone. His hand shook violently from the searing heat that seemed to be burning flesh from bone. As much as he wanted to squeeze it, he refrained to avoid spreading the toxin to yet another extremity.

    His jaw relaxed, unable to prevent the desperate pants leaving his chest as his eyes scanned the room for his attacker. A light scraping came from the walls above him - claws on wood. He didn¡¯t have to look up to know who made the sound. Without moving his head to acknowledge her, he could see her. Suspended above him, she clung between two pillars by two paws on each one.

    She must not have her weapons if she can hold herself up, he thought as he peered to the other side of the room. This would be his only moment to attempt an escape. He wouldn¡¯t be able to run quickly on three limbs ¨C but a three-legged hobble to safety was better than waiting here to die. His muscles twitched as he dug his hind claws into the soft wood to get a leaping start.

    ¡°And this is where you would die¡­¡± Festelda said from above. Limbs spread, daggers still in hand, she was indeed suspended above him, looking directly down. Should she drop, she would be able to land daggers-first on his back, sinking them directly into his shoulder blades.

    Forcefully pushing her hind legs from the vertically protruding wooden arches, she leapt from her perch and softly landed on the ground in front of him. Woven vines and roots lazily pulled away from each other, allowing sunlight to pour into the primitive room. A group of training assassins lining the far wall let out a round of applause as Festelda helped the pitiful ¡®possum to his feet. Gritting his teeth, he accepted the assistance ¨C without the hand still constricted in burning pain.

    ¡°Well done, erm, little buddy,¡± Festelda said, inconveniently forgetting his name. ¡°So, what technique did I use to overpower my target?¡± Festelda asked the class consisting of possums, badgers, marmots, and even a couple squirrels. About a dozen total, they stood respectfully, backs to the wall closest the exit.

    ¡°Cornering,¡± one badger replied. Diligently taking mental notes, he wore a sinister grin.

    ¡°Can you elaborate, Henden?¡± Festelda asked the badger.

    ¡°You intimidated your enemy. Enough for him to back himself into a corner; thinking the solid walls would protect him. Should he have a roof, it may have worked. But you were able to get the high ground, Festelda,¡± Henden recited from previous instruction.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Festelda projected to the class ecstatically. ¡°Roofs are the important detail here. I know that our instinct will strongly persuade us to squeeze into physical protection. But when there is a predator breathing down your neck, you need to be sure you have all sides covered.¡±

    The possum whimpered as he sat back on his hind legs, using his pink, bald tail as support, allowing him to clutch his stinging hand.

    ¡°Oh, right. So sorry!¡± Festelda said as she procured a counter toxin Brenloru had provided for her instruction.

    ¡°Where did you get the daggers?¡± Henden hissed as Festelda patted the counter toxin onto the possum¡¯s paw, careful not to rub any of the nettles on her own hands.

    The question sent a shiver down her spine. ¡°They are a keep safe of mine¡­¡± she replied slowly. ¡°At one point in my life, my claws and teeth no longer felt sufficient. That¡¯s why I have these now.¡±

    Henden hadn¡¯t taken his eyes off her weapons. His mind drifted, and his facial expression told that he hadn¡¯t heard the answer to the question he himself had asked.

    ¡°Okay, Henden,¡± Festelda asked, snapping his attention back to her. She sheathed her daggers to hide the distraction. ¡°What would you have done in a cornered situation, assuming you had found a hole, or tunnel to back into?¡±

    ¡°Jump down and meet the entrance head-on. Evaluate if I am small enough to squeeze through,¡± he replied as he locked eyes with Festelda. His body was rigid ¨C he hadn¡¯t budged an inch since her demonstration began. ¡°If my whole body won¡¯t fit, I would try to claw him out.

    ¡°As ¨C as the victim? I don¡¯t understand. Like I said, you¡¯re already in the hole.¡±

    ¡°Oh, heh. I thought you meant as the predator,¡± Henden replied in an icy tone. ¡°Figured it might be effective to put ourselves in the mind of the attacker to foresee actions and adapt to our enemy.¡±

    The room fell silent. A chilled, early-spring breeze passed through the gaps of the roots that acted as a perforated wall.

    ¡°Oh, I see¡­ just a misunderstanding then,¡± Festelda replied. ¡°Now, let¡¯s try to stay focused on the perspective of the prey. We are pretending that we are defending ourselves. Not attacking.¡±

    Henden shifted lightly. His eyes darted back to Festelda¡¯s waist where she had sheathed the dagger. Festelda scanned the room to examine other student¡¯s reactions. Perhaps Henden did have a point? Should she explore the ¡®other perspective¡¯ of an attack? I suppose he makes a convincing argument. Wouldn¡¯t hurt to be one step ahead of your enemy, she thought.

    No ¨C the other students appeared equally uncomfortable. She wondered if Henden had a particularly nasty reputation.

    ¡°Can anyone tell me what I used to disable my ¡®prey¡¯? Festelda asked the class, attempting to change the subject.

    Henden cracked another broad grin that exposed his canines, but a squirrel answered before he could. ¡°Nettles?¡± she asked sheepishly.

    ¡°Yes, good. Nettles,¡± Festelda replied to the squirrel. ¡°Easily harvestable. Abundant in the spring and summer. Non-lethal in small doses, but highly irritating.¡±

    Henden seemed to be focused for now, but he had yet to take his eyes off Festelda¡¯s waist. Her belt stood out proudly against her lighter-than-typical fur color for her species. Nearly white, she chalked her odd complexion up to simply being unique. That, or nature had ¡®blessed¡¯ her by marking her with white fur as a symbolic gesture of her resistance the darkness that is the consumption of flesh.

    ¡°And how did I draw my prey out of hiding?¡± Festelda carried on with the class as normal. She could still feel Henden¡¯s gaze burning through her.

    ¡°You discarded a weapon where he could see it. It caused him to expose himself,¡± a particularly chubby marmot chimed in. His ¡®s¡¯ sounds were enunciated with sharp whistles.

    ¡°Yes! Or as I like to call it: bait.¡± Festelda paced towards the back of the room where light failed to reach. Shadows lightly shrouded her. Hopefully Henden¡¯s attention would be drawn away from her weapon if it was obscured. ¡°Never allow yourself to be baited. Predators may use food or tools as motivation to draw you from your hiding holes. Don¡¯t fall for it!¡±

    ¡°Before next week¡¯s class, I want you all to visit Parsun the Keeper,¡± Festelda continued, walking amongst the flickering light. ¡°Explore his stock room. Provide yourself with visual aid of ¨C¡±

    ¡°Ouch! Stop that Henden!¡± cried the only other badger amongst the group. Henden had taken to pinching and nipping at the younger member of his species.

    Henden whipped his focus back to Festelda like a cub picking on his little brother for as long as he would allow it.

    ¡°Visual aid of what?¡± a squirrel chimed in, trying to keep the class moving through the disturbances.

    ¡°Visual aids of¡­¡± Festelda was barely able to finish her sentence. ¡°Visual aids of poisonous plants¡­ I want you all to know what they look like should you come across them in the forest.¡±

    Henden was still feigning interest, wearing a mocking grin.

    ¡°That concludes this class,¡± Festelda announced abruptly. ¡°Remember, stay safe if you must leave the Homestead in the winter. Always travel in groups and keep eyes on every angle. I will see you all next week.

    Heading straight for the exit, Festelda firmly brushed by Henden who had kept his eyes locked on her. She discreetly kept her tiny paws clutched on the sheaths of her daggers. I need to keep an eye on him, she decided. And hide my daggers for as long as I reside in the Homestead.

    ***

    Nearly a week after Festelda¡¯s troubling class, Dahj stood in the rock archway that led to the farming plots he had frequented. It seemed to be the only thing to take his mind off the daunting journey ahead of him. His biggest struggle had been feeling worthy enough of the title of ¡®Guardian¡¯. I was just a bison in a previous life¡­ he thought.

    He rolled the depleted appendage around in his hand, even though he knew he shouldn¡¯t. It was pitiful and fragile. Mostly made of rubble and only about a half of a foot in length, it laid completely still in the palm of his hand. Lifeless and plain, it resembled an odd trinket crudely carved from pumice that one may find at an herbivore¡¯s swap meet. What did I do to deserve such a role? My species migrates and eats¡­ that¡¯s it. I¡¯m not the one to end the predatory threat of this planet.

    ¡°What are we planting today, Dahj?¡± a gopher asked him, drawing his attention away from the unmoving appendage. Half of his body still submerged in dirt. The gopher¡¯s black, beady eyes gazed at Dahj, patiently waited for the massive beast to return his focus to the task at hand. Proficient in digging, the gopher had been assigned to the farming plots against his will. His main task was the development of irrigation ditches using depressions of straight lines throughout the cave.

    A narrow crag ran through the roof of the largest farming cave of the Homestead, allowing sunlight to bathe the musty plot of subterranean land. Water and snow would drip through the crag, but the cold air was prevented from entering, shielded by the wall of warmth provided from the activity of creatures within the Homestead. Their rapid movements acted as a natural furnace that heated the tree fortress. Seasons still had their natural effect on crops and their respective yields here, but the greenhouse effect encapsulated under the dome-shaped cave, paired with natural heating allowed the animals to trick certain plants into season.

    ¡°Root crops, again?¡± the gopher inquired through two long, yellow front teeth.

    ¡°No, there¡¯s¡­ something else I¡¯d like to work on today,¡± Dahj replied with a forced tone of optimism. Within his side pouch was a handful of raspberry seeds he had taken from the Stock Room.

    Those are never gonna grow at this time of year, even in the underground farming plots! Parsun¡¯s shrill voice rang through Dahj¡¯s head. You¡¯re wasting your time, bison! He chose to ignore the negativity, however, as he knew of at least one resident that would be ecstatic if he was able to grow the berries in the middle of winter.

    ¡°Daisies? I love daisies!¡± said the gopher excitedly. Perhaps focusing on the crops he did desire would motivate him enough to get back to work.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Great, something else I can add to the list of ¡®food residents want in the winter¡¯, Dahj thought with a huff. ¡°No, no little one. I¡¯m sorry. Maybe next week. Today I¡¯d like to try raspberries!¡±

    ¡°Berries! At this time of year? Even in the ¨C ¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah, winter. Underground. Proper conditions,¡± Dahj said. ¡°Parsun already gave me an earful. Just humor me, will ya?¡±

    The gopher obliged. This was his only role in the Homestead, after all, and he was good at it.

    Assuming a position on all fours, Dahj used his large, leathery fingers to excavate the moist soil. The hunch in his back caused his head to hang low enough to smell the earth he knelt in ¨C to raise his head to a level position would cause his neck a tremendous amount of strain. He only lifted his head when it was necessary to communicate with the badger digging rows in the soil where they would plant the seeds.

    Despite being frequented for various crops, the dirt smelled healthy. Rich and nutritious, it reminded him of the first bites he would pull from the soil upon returning to his spring feeding grounds. Nostalgia offered the presence of several bison surrounding him; silently severing blades of rich grass as they nourished their famished bodies. Dahj scoffed at the novelty of the herd planting their own food. Had they harnessed this capability years ago, migration would have been unnecessary!

    Working in a straight line, Dahj brushed past potato stalks and a rosemary bush that released a calming fragrance when disturbed. The scent reminded him of Brenloru. The moose smelled more of a plant than he did animal. Dahj could almost hear the sound of Brenloru¡¯s mortar and pedestal grinding together after selecting the perfect herbs to feed it with.

    Forcefully twisting his neck, Dahj was able to gaze out at the variety of stalks surrounding him. He had never seen the land from this angle, and found it amusing that he must resist consuming any, if not all of the crops right then and there.

    His fingers grew numb from scraping at harder earth beneath the soft surface. I should have had that possum make me a shovel while he was at it¡­ Dahj thought.

    The sound of dripping water was becoming more frequent. ¡°Do you have the seeds? Steady stream of water coming through right now ¨C might be a good time to put them in the dirt,¡± the gopher noted.

    Dahj removed various large stones from his channel and shook the pain from his fingers. ¡°Yeah, right here. They already look juicy!¡± Leaning back to a kneel, he plucked the pouch containing seeds from his waist before emptying the contents into the palm of his opposite hand. One by one, he shoved them into the canal the gopher had assisted him in digging.

    Unamused, the gopher watched Dahj stand back and admire his work. Only allowing his head to poke out of the soft dirt, the gopher didn¡¯t seem trusting enough even in the Homestead to expose his entire body. ¡°What are you waiting for? You know its gonna take some time, right? What is this, your first time growing?¡±

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± Dahj said. After returning the seed pouch to his belt, he knelt next to the newly-planted raspberries. With a lot of focus ¨C whatever that meant ¨C and a little bit of hope, he placed his hand, open palmed, on the flat bed of freshly-churned soil.

    A tingling sensation passed through Dahj¡¯s hand as he pressed lightly on the dirt. The gopher gasped and fully retreated into his hole in the blink of an eye as multiple small tendrils sprouted from the ground. Tenaciously working their way between his fingers, they quickly reached towards the crag that provided sunlight above.

    Dahj laughed in excitement. The gopher had not returned ¨C perhaps his tiny heart had failed him. Pressing firmly on the soil seemed to accelerate the growing process. Within moments, the tendrils had hardened into stems. The stems grew long and rigid before branches forked from the stalks. Leaves quickly opened to absorb sunlight, providing energy to the plant soon to produce berries as the bush extended vertically.

    Solid white, texture-less berries populated the rigid branches that had already surpassed Dahj¡¯s kneeling height. Greeted by winter¡¯s limited sunlight, their white skin turned to a pale yellow, then a deep shade of orange, then red. The complexion of the quickly maturing fruit deepened as tiny white hairs grew between plump pockets of flavorful juice.

    Mystified, Dahj held his open-palmed hand firmly in place as the berries continued to rapidly populate the bountiful bush until ¨C one burst. Dahj sputtered as raspberry juice splattered across his face. Then another burst, then another. They were growing so big, so fast, that their thin skin could no longer contain the rapid growth. Dahj fell back in laughter as he wiped skins, seeds, and sugars from his face before licking his fingers clean.

    The moment he had removed his hand, the plant stopped growing. Plump berries that had grown to their limit remained precariously suspended from branches sagging under their weight. The fruit now closer resembled an apple than a berry. Dahj remained sitting, waiting for it to continue its growth spurt. It didn¡¯t. The leaves lightly moved in the breeze coming from the crag in the ceiling as a couple of the over-grown berries fell to the ground with a light thump.

    Do I really have to be?

    Rolling on his hind legs towards the plant, he firmly grabbed the base of the bountiful shrub. The plant resumed its growth as sticky berry juice dried to Dahj¡¯s beard. The fruit swelled until the pressure was too great, then burst. The sensation, the sound, the scent sent Dahj into a fit of laughter. Okay, okay! Enough, he thought as he pulled his hand away, halting the spread. I need to get these ¡®red squishies¡¯ to a lucky recipient.

    ***

    The young chipmunk¡¯s small jaw hung loose beneath his beady eyes; now wider than his species was typically able to manage. The look on his face expressed an emotion beyond shock and pleasure. Frozen in place, his rigid body looked as if it was still adjusting to recent time travel.

    ¡°How did you¡­¡± the chipmunk¡¯s mother asked, sitting beside her stunned son. Wearing a similar expression, she looked as if she had just witnessed a phenomenon and a half. She glanced at a small hole dug through the wall that acted as a window. Just as a precaution; she wanted to make sure she hadn¡¯t severely lost track of time and found herself in the middle of spring.

    ¡°Advanced farming techniques, and a little bit of luck,¡± Dahj replied as he donated a pile of plump, fresh raspberries to the mother and son. They fell to the table with a light squish. Juice ran from the bursting berries across the rough surface of the wooden table, permanently staining it.

    The young chipmunk¡¯s hand shook as he reached for the largest raspberry he could fit his hands around. Without looking up at Dahj, he buried his face in the side, sending a cascade of spring¡¯s nectar down his furry chest.

    ¡°Oh, jeez. Oliver!¡± his mother shouted. ¡°That¡¯s sticky! You¡¯re going to need a bath now!¡± She reached for a taste of warmer weather.

    Oliver didn¡¯t listen. In an instant, he had advanced time by several months and enveloped himself in the intoxicating pleasures of spring. The bite caused the songs of birds to ring through his head. Grey clouds were pulled away, no longer inhibiting the rejuvenating rays of sun¡¯s light amongst blue skies. The snow outside had melted, revealing full fields of green. A warm breeze carried the pedals of recently blossomed flowers over his head as he bathed in nirvana.

    Dahj let out a booming laugh as he watched a massacre of red splatter across the old wooden table before the satisfied chipmunk. Humor quickly turned to concern as he worried that the child would not come out of the raspberry in time to take a breath.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like them, little one,¡± Dahj said before turning to retire within spine of the Homestead. The chipmunk did not respond.

    Although impressed with his ability to grow plants on demand, he decided to reserve the skill. Should Parsun discover his ability of nearly instant farming, he may never allow Dahj to leave the underground plots!

    ***

    Reblex wandered the hallways, overcome with boredom. He found the Homestead fascinating, but had quickly grown tired of the underground lifestyle only a few days after ¡®awakening¡¯ here. His species was more accustomed to tall mountain peaks under open skies in a previous life. The sensation of cold stone beneath his feet only made him want to climb higher. Alas, he was constantly under the wooden roof of sprawling tunnels.

    Taking to eating out of boredom, he made his way to the dining room. A simple wing of the Homestead, it featured rounded, wooden walls with a few tables in the center. Tables that seemed to be crafted from a singular piece of wood. Their legs were crude and jagged; teeth and scratch marks were clearly visible. The shape of the tabletop was questionable; it was unclear if the crafters had decided on square, circular, or had changed their minds half-way through construction. It seemed as if a group of beavers had retrieved a singular piece of wood, then relentlessly chewed until they had a hunk of wood that resembled a table.

    A thin stream of frigid water ran straight through the middle of the room, hastened by the slanted elevation of the floor. It fed in from the side closest to the mountain, and towards the porous wall made of thick roots on the opposite side of the room. The stream consisted of freshly melted snow, provided by warming peaks high above the Cedar Homestead. Reblex hydrated himself from the in-house water source before scanning the room for somewhere to sit and kill time.

    The smell of decomposing vegetables and plants lingered in the air from forgotten leftovers. Reblex scoffed at the thought of animals being too lazy to clean up after themselves in a public setting. Nothing offered sounded appetizing. He had struggled to satisfy his hunger since moving into the Homestead ¨C perhaps because of the claustrophobia, or the plant¡¯s shelf life. His body was craving something that the residents had yet to supply, but he wasn¡¯t sure what it was. Something fatty? Like a nut.

    Various small mammals populated the room, fiddling with seeds and dried legumes as they chatted with each other, making small talk out of boredom. Lacking the desire to talk about the weather or cabin fever, Reblex turned to leave the room when Festelda caught his eye. She had taken to a small corner in the back, concealed in the shadows. If it wasn¡¯t for her fiddling with her daggers made of teeth and the dominance of white fur highlighting her body, he may not have noticed her. Her bushy tail hung from the chair she was perched upon. The tip flicked slightly as Reblex crossed the room wearing a grin. His approach seemed to inflate the striped tail further.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re quite striking with so much white fur ¨C even in the shadows,¡± Reblex mocked as he walked across the room.

    Festelda simply scoffed in reply, as she was distracted with formulating a curriculum for future classes. ¡°We¡¯ll see if you notice me when I¡¯m sneaking up on you¡­ ram,¡± she said sinfully as she poked the tip of her dagger with her index finger.

    ¡°So, did you have to kill the animal to get those?¡± Reblex asked as he approached the table to take a seat across the raccoon.

    Festelda flinched. The thought of another animal constantly inquiring about her weapons sickened her. ¡°I don¡¯t believe in killing,¡± she replied without looking up.

    ¡°Just trying to make conversation,¡± Reblex said bashfully.

    Festelda looked up and sighed. ¡°Sorry, I just had a really awkward class last week. Still lingering on my mind. Someone that I¡¯m not sure can be trusted had a lot of questions about the same weapons. Guess I¡¯m just on edge.¡±

    ¡°I see. Someone that lives here? I figured anyone that resides in this tree is already trusted.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought¡­ Yet, some species are adjusting differently than others. I have seen it before, trust me. Sadly, many more will succumb to evil persuasion.¡±

    A chill ran down the ram¡¯s spine. ¡°Well¡­ you can trust me¡­¡± Reblex said. He placed a hand on the table shared with the cloistered raccoon. ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve barely gotten used to my hands, and I don¡¯t have any sharp teeth!¡± Grinning broadly, he revealed teeth strictly designed to consume flora.

    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right, ram. When I was much younger, a mountain lion attacked my village. Thought he could pick off a few of the weak. He chased a few into trees. This was just after the transition in my species.¡±

    Reblex raised an eyebrow, cautiously becoming aware of her honed teeth.

    ¡°He managed to injure a few of us, but we were more aggressively defensive than he expected. I have never seen my pack fight like that. Growling, slashing, biting.¡± Festelda¡¯s index claw dug into the softened surface of the wooden table.

    ¡°So why did you get the teeth?¡± Reblex asked.

    ¡°I tried to help the young. Wrangled them to the trees to keep safe. Then I saw the lion injure my father. I just kind of¡­ snapped,¡± Festelda said, dropping her eyes to the table.

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t believe in killing?¡± Reblex said with a smirk.

    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± she replied dismissively, ¡°but when it comes to my family, it¡¯s not about killing. It¡¯s about survival.¡±

    Festelda stood up, leaving her small daggers on the table. ¡°Dropping from the branch above, I slashed at his eyes, bit his neck,¡± she said as she circled around the ram. ¡°Lastly, I opened his throat with my claws ¨C a recent addition to our physical make-up ¨C spilling his blood in front of my father.¡±

    Reblex leaned back in his chair.

    ¡°I retreated to a tree. Sitting with my back to it, I wept as I inspected my hands, covered in blood. I never wanted to be like that ¨C I had resisted it for so long. As I witnessed my family turning to the consumption of flesh, I fought the urge, never spilling the blood of another animal until that day.¡± Her hands shook slightly as she looked at them, imaging them to still be covered in blood

    Festelda turned to retrieve one of her daggers. Turning it over in her hands, she inspected the hilt. ¡°In my absence, my brother removed the animal¡¯s canines. Later he helped me craft these. They represent my dedication to the protection of my family, my species, and this land.¡±

    ¡°Impressive,¡± Reblex muttered. He picked up the dagger that Festelda had left on the table and touched the sharp tip. ¡°I¡¯m more of a blunt force trauma guy, myself.¡± His eyes flicked upwards, gesturing towards his horns. ¡°So, this is why you want to be a Guardian?¡±

    ¡°I suppose. I do care deeply for the herbivores, and feel that my blood relates closer to theirs than that of a carnivore. After my pack made the transition to seeking flesh, I felt I didn¡¯t belong. I no longer had a home¡­ I am very grateful for this place, and happy to call it my new home,¡± she replied.

    In the time it took Reblex to blink, Festelda had quickly snatched her dagger back out of his hand, causing him to flinch.

    Nodding in agreement, Reblex felt he, too, had nowhere to return to outside the Homestead. ¡°Do you trust him, Festelda?¡± he asked after a short pause. ¡°The Designer.¡±

    ¡°Well sure,¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It all just seems too good to be true.¡± Reblex turned away from the table to observe the other animals in the room, who focused on their meals or conversation. ¡°One guy? Created all of this? It just doesn¡¯t add up.¡±

    ¡°I mean, he said he had help. The elements shaped the earth we know, and the designer of the carnivores help to create various species.¡±

    ¡°The comment he had made. Something to do with trial and error,¡± Reblex continued, recalling the first meeting with the Designer he had attended. ¡°Us rams, we are some of the few species that populate the mountains. As high as the land can reach. I have heard tales of horrible, pitiful creatures that are kept up there. Left alone, abandoned to die. Creatures you have never seen in your life. Creatures that shouldn¡¯t exist, and barely do in some of the most remote parts of the planet.¡±

    ¡°Why are they there?¡± Festelda asked, leaning forward.

    ¡°I think that they¡¯re experiments. Failed test subjects. Models unsuitable for this planet,¡± Reblex replied sternly. ¡°My greatest fear, however, is that we¡¯re just the current generation. A new wave of ¡®test subjects¡¯, to see which will be most successful. That¡¯s why there are multiple species to represent the ¡®Guardians¡¯. Moose, bison, ram. He is testing us.¡±

    ¡°But, I haven¡¯t seen any raccoons¡­ and to be honest, I feel I have done noble things in my lifetime! Things deserving of a chance to be a Guardian,¡± Festelda said.

    ¡°Raccoons have become omnivorous. They have slipped away from his control. Perhaps you no longer qualify,¡± Reblex suggested.

    Festelda looked defeated. ¡°I¡¯ll change his mind¡­¡± she said under her breath.

    ¡°I want to see this place. I think I know where it is,¡± Reblex said in a low tone. ¡°I will take you there. I¡¯m still a strong climber, even with my new body.¡±

    ¡°How long will it take? Don¡¯t you think our absence will gain attention?¡±

    ¡°Everyone is basically hibernating. Dahj and Brenloru are distracted with logistics and preparing for the journey ahead of us. I think we can be back in two days¡¯ time,¡± he promised.

    Overcome with curiosity, Festelda agreed, fighting the fear of what they might discover. ¡°I¡¯ll need to stock up on a few things,¡± she said, lazily pushing her remaining meal around on the table like a picky child. It consisted of seeds and nuts. Only dried foods remained in the stock room this late in the year; hard foods that crunched and chipped when eaten. Spring was just around the corner, and she was looking forward to juicy berries and fresh grasses.

    ¡°I think I know of a spot where I can get some oils and powders before we depart,¡± she said, vaguely referring to her secret classroom.

    ¡°Great, then get some rest and meet me in the morning. We leave before the light arrives,¡± Reblex said with a wink.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to get anything to eat?¡± Festelda asked after Reblex rose from the table.

    ¡°Nah, nothing sounds good right now,¡± he said, gazing at the meal she was unable to finish.

    As Festelda headed for the exit of the dining room, she focused on walking on two legs. Reblex encouraged slowly improving her own posture before the Designer did, assuring that it would be beneficial to her.

    As they took a left turn, the sound of claws scraping on wood caused the pair to freeze. The sound of creatures ¨C struggling ¨C down the hallway to their right.

    Festelda¡¯s widening eyes were accompanied by a shriek as Dahj and Brenloru rounded the corner.

 Chapter 8: Insubordination

    Hours Ago

    Residing in his favorite resting place, Dahj contemplated the complexity of the ecosystem before him. He enjoyed killing time by marveling at the vertical ramp that acted as a spine for the massive tree. Witnessing such an array of animals working together for a common goal was something he never thought he would experience in his lifetime.

    His gaze lingered on the streaked soot stains that lined the highest point of the trunk¡¯s inner walls, just below the crown. It seemed numerous cleaning attempts were futile at such heights, and the builders had given up on removing the historic stain. The scar piqued Dahj¡¯s interest. Perhaps it was an unattended heating source, or mismanaged construction resource that had left a permanent reminder of a project gone awry.

    Brenloru grabbed Dahj¡¯s arm, breaking him from his thoughts.

    ¡°I need you to come look at something,¡± he said sternly, gesturing towards a nearby hallway.

    Dahj obliged and followed. ¡°Another Guardian?¡±

    ¡°I wish,¡± Brenloru replied as he entered the wooden tunnel with haste.

    ***

    After passing the main dining room on their right, the ceiling of the wood hallway leading forward was barely tall enough for Dahj and Brenloru to stand upright. It quickly narrowed, and darkened. A section of the Homestead dedicated to smaller mammals, the tunnel had never needed to accommodate creatures as large as a bison or moose. Cold and dark, it had a deeply musty smell from lack of airflow. The wooden walls of the passage transferred to rock upon leaving the tree and entering the underground living quarters of the mountainside.

    Dahj stumbled on rocks he could barely see. Brenloru had been in such a hurry their eyes hadn¡¯t had time to adjust to those of a nocturnal animal ¨C which the area had been intended for. The under-developed rock tunnel continued to narrow as the Guardians passed small rooms dedicated to families of rodents. The residencies carved into the side of the stone tunnel alternated on both the right and the left side, slightly staggered as to not be directly facing the home opposite. Each tiny cave-like dwelling was marked with a number and paw print to represent the animal tenant. #17, Squirrel. #9, Mouse. #3, Badger, etc.

    Multiple generations of herbivores huddled tightly in their nooks with barely enough room to breathe. They were provided a thin bed of straw to lay on, and a single shelf at the back of their rooms for food storage. Despite having no amenities or space for privacy, the animals did not seem to be suffering from claustrophobia or cabin fever. They were grateful to have protection from predators and the harsh elements during the harshest season of the year.

    This wing of the homestead seemed to be an afterthought ¨C or perhaps constructed with haste to shelter an unexpectedly high influx of guests in a short period of time. Every day more creatures would seek refuge within the cedar tree, either off a tip from a friend or pure luck. However, their motive was the same; escape the predators and stay warm for the winter. The Homestead always experienced an increase in population during the colder seasons, before most residents typically moved out in the spring with the desire for more space. Their cost to stay was simple: help provide for the Homestead. This could include working on farming plots, becoming foragers, or assisting in construction or remodeling.

    Dahj and Brenloru approached the end of the residential tunnel. The smell of stale blood was in the air. Surprisingly, the last six houses were unoccupied. However, they each appeared to have once sheltered tenants that had recently vacated in a hurry. Food and bedding had been abandoned, along with various personal effects.

    Dahj felt the heel of his foot stick to the floor. Groaning loudly, he arched his foot to pull it away, now covered in cold blood and dirt. ¡°What is that!¡± he cried in disgust.

    ¡°The reason you¡¯re here,¡± Brenloru replied. His gaze followed a trail of smeared blood from Dahj¡¯s foot to the end of the dark cul-de-sac.

    Footprints that dragged at the heels littered the dusty hallway. Small splatters of blood were visible on the walls surrounding them.

    ¡°There was a fight here,¡± Dahj said. Squatting, he touched the sloppy footprints and retrieved a tuft of grey and black fur from the ground. ¡°The footprints seem to be of a ¨C ¡±

    ¡°Badger,¡± Brenloru said, nodding towards the end of the tunnel.

    A lifeless badger laid in the dark at the end of the smeared blood trail.

    ¡°A murder¡­ in the Homestead?¡± Dahj said under his breath as he inspected the eviscerated victim from a distance. ¡°How often does this happen?¡±

    ¡°As far as I know, this would be the first,¡± Brenloru replied. ¡°We need to check access points. It may have been a breach from a predator.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any paw prints that represent a carnivore, though, and this area is barely trafficked,¡± Dahj observed, turning his focus back down the hallway behind them.

    ¡°This hall is a recent development within the Homestead. We will follow a couple of the side hallways to check for any backdoors.¡± Brenloru picked up the stiff badger by the scruff of the neck to be buried.

    ***

    Still within the rock-based suburb, Brenloru and Dahj tried the first hallway on their right. Similar to the previous, this one was exceptionally primitive. This area acted as a ¡®waiting list¡¯ holding area for new families that were anticipating a home of their own; for the time being, they were instructed to pick a spot in the tunnel. Morale of the residents was low. Fecal matter scattered the walkway from lack of facilities. Infants cried in hunger as their mothers attempted to console them.

    One rat, looking particularly terrified, caught Brenloru¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Rat. You seem to hold information worth sharing.¡± Brenloru took a knee to address the frantic rodent. He stumbled slightly to avoid waste that littered the floor.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know nothin¡¯ ¨C I didn¡¯t see nothin¡¯.¡± The rat¡¯s squeaky voice echoed, disturbing the young.

    ¡°Hmm. Unlikely¡­ I¡¯m sure this area is quite uneventful, little one. You wouldn¡¯t happen to be aware of any crime in these hallways, would you? These parts are quite removed from the main tree.¡± Brenloru pressed.

    ¡°Nope, not me! Just another day on the waitin¡¯ list,¡± the rat replied, voice raised. ¡°Say, it''s pretty cold in these tunnels, moose! And they don¡¯t deliver food back here too often!¡±

    ¡°You know what¡¯s cold this time of year, rat? The forest,¡± Brenloru replied, patience thin.

    Various rodents scurried through the tunnel, searching for morsels of past meals. Their squeaks and cries sounded pitiful while trying to find dry surfaces to lay on.

    ¡°Oh, here we go with the threats. All you big mammals love to threaten,¡± the rat remarked under his breath.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Someone threatened you?¡± Dahj butted in.

    ¡°A badger. He said all us rats are the same. Snitches. Said if I talked I¡¯d be someone¡¯s lunch!¡± the rat whispered.

    ¡°I think we just found him dead at the end of the hallway. We¡¯re trying to find who killed him,¡± Brenloru said sternly.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t have been him ¨C this one just passed. Tried to keep to the shadows while we was all sleepin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Which way did he go?¡±

    ¡°Down the hallway to the end. Trying to make the backdoor bigger, it was seemin¡¯ like,¡± the rat replied dismissively.

    ¡°You guys have a back door? Oh, I could just¡­¡± Brenloru snatched up the rat and held it in front of his face. ¡°...feed you to the wolves.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± the rat squeaked from Brenloru¡¯s firm grip around his entire body. ¡°I thought you¡¯s guys knew. It''s the new inhabitant¡¯s check-in area! Puts us right in the holding slums, here!¡±

    Brenloru dropped the rat into a puddle of urine that had collected in a depression of the stone floor. He landed with a light splatter before scurrying into the shadows with aggravated squeaking.

    ***

    Moving as fast as they could, Dahj and Brenloru made their way to the end of the holding slums, posture slouched. Brenloru was forced to turn his head slightly to avoid scraping his rack against the jagged sides. Dahj touched the cool, damp walls with his outstretched fingers for guidance. Their bodies shook slightly from adrenaline as they splashed through puddles of what they could only hope was merely cave water.

    Brenloru stopped to the sound of scratching. Nails on rocks lightly reverberated through the pitch-black pathway before them. A silhouette paced before a small source of light leading out of the mountain.

    ¡°Dead end!¡± Brenloru¡¯s voice echoed off the end of the tunnel.

    ¡°Oh, heh heh, hey there fellas!¡± a badger called back after a final failed attempt to fit his fat torso through the small exit. ¡°Just getting a little work done on the new-resident entrance before bed!¡±

    ¡°This entrance was never approved. You know it shouldn¡¯t be here,¡± Brenloru said sternly.

    ¡°Oh, ohhhh,¡± the badger replied. ¡°I had no idea, fellas!¡± The badger looked down at his paws, still stained in the blood of his victim.

    ¡°You alright? We should take you to get that injury looked at¡­¡± Dahj said.

    ¡°Ahhh, this?¡± the badger replied nonchalantly. ¡°Probably just caught it on a rough edge during my dig.¡± He smiled broadly to defuse the situation, revealing two long canines.

    Without hesitation, Brenloru lurched forward and grabbed the animal by the scruff of his neck.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see how The Designer feels about that,¡± Brenloru said. The badger¡¯s lips curled before attempting to bite Brenloru¡¯s arm as he was dragged away.

    The trip back through the tight, weaving tunnel was even more treacherous with a struggling badger in tow. Brenloru and Dahj took turns restraining the murderer ¨C one hand on the scruff of his neck, the other wrapped around his muzzle.

    Dahj¡¯s eyes darted back and forth from the badger to the path ahead of him. Already irritated by the precarious journey, he was afraid of how he would react should the vicious creature get a hold of one of his fingers. It was here, and now, that the bison decided that he hated caves. Nothing made him miss open valleys beneath vast skies like stumbling through shallow puddles and slipping on slick rocks.

    Stone walls transitioned to wood. Dahj signed deeply as the path widened and lightened, allowing him to straighten his posture. The hunch in his back had forced his head close enough to the badger to smell its musty fur.

    The badger made one final attempt at an escape. Struggling, his sharp hind claws dug at the polished wooden walls. Brenloru ran up to Dahj¡¯s side to secure the badger¡¯s flailing legs. As Dahj lifted the kicking creature to avoid being scratched, Festelda let out a shriek.

    ¡°What, what are you guys¡­ what did he do?¡± she asked frantically, followed by Reblex.

    ¡°Do you know him, Fes?¡± Brenloru asked bluntly.

    Festelda¡¯s heart sank. It was Henden. His body relaxed in the Guardian¡¯s grip as he locked eyes with his teacher. If it wasn¡¯t for Dahj¡¯s hand covering his muzzle, he would probably be wearing his chilling grin. ¡°No,¡± she replied sternly. ¡°Never seen him. What happened? Where did you find him?¡±

    ¡°He killed,¡± Brenloru replied harshly. Right here, in the Homestead.

    ¡°Killed? Killed who?¡± Reblex asked coolly.

    Subtly, Festelda patted her side to make sure her daggers were still in her possession. She had just been showing them to Reblex, but knew Henden was quite interested in them¡­ Should anyone find her weapons involved in a murder, she may be held responsible as well.

    ¡°Another badger. Down in the new resident waiting area,¡± Dahj replied, removing his hand from the badger¡¯s mouth.

    Festelda froze. She kept eye contact with the murderer, hoping it wouldn¡¯t be obvious they were acquaintances. Brenloru and Dahj knew about, and approved of her classes. However, if residents were developing homicidal tendencies as a result of her trainings, they may deem her unfit to instruct.

    ¡°Where are you taking him?¡± Reblex asked.

    Festelda cursed herself for not following through with her reports on Henden. Despite her best intentions to help residents defend themselves, she accomplished the exact opposite.

    ¡°To you-know-who,¡± Brenloru said. ¡°Coming?¡±

    ***

    ¡°You understand the gravity of this situation, do you not, badger?¡± the Designer asked with a hiss, eyes focused on the rebellious animal.

    ¡°Like I said, sir¡­ I, I had no idea I wasn¡¯t supposed to be working on that entrance. It¡¯s been an ongoing project for a while now!¡± the badger stuttered.

    ¡°He¡¯s lying through his pointed teeth,¡± Brenloru said bluntly.

    ¡°Maybe we should give him a chance¡­¡± Reblex cried out. ¡°They¡¯re known to be excellent diggers.¡±

    ¡°Reb¡­ we just told you what happened! How could you take his side?¡± Brenloru asked.

    ¡°Well, I only heard your account. I mean, we could at least allow him to explain.¡±

    Festelda remained silent. Should this be linked to her class, it could be shut down indefinitely.

    ¡°Badger,¡± the Designer called out, interrupting the quarreling. ¡°Did you, or did you not, kill one of your own kind?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ he¡­¡± the badger stammered. ¡°It was an accident. I don¡¯t know what came over me. We were discussing rations ¨C I suspected him of taking more of his fair share. Before I knew it, I was thrashing, clawing, biting. I guess I fought harder that I should have, because before I knew it, he was laying there, limp. I thought he was just playing, trying to make me feel bad.¡±

    Festelda relaxed. Perhaps he wouldn¡¯t blame her, and her teachings, after all.

    ¡°See? A misunderstanding,¡± Reblex said calmly.

    ¡°No,¡± Brenloru said. ¡°Designer, look. He has become territorial. Aggressive over food. Vicious towards his own kind.¡± He grabbed the badger by the scruff of his neck, using his free hand to pull back the animal¡¯s lips; revealing elongated, sharpened canines.

    The Designer moved closer to inspect the animal.

    ¡°He has no place here, Designer. He has become an omnivore,¡± Brenloru said sternly.

    ¡°At least he didn¡¯t eat him,¡± Reblex said.

    ¡°Not this time¡­ but what about the next? What if others begin to draw blood within our sanctuary?!¡± Brenloru replied. ¡°Land Reblex, what is wrong with you!¡±

    ¡°Raccoons have felt the influence as well, Brenloru. It does not mean we are inherently bad,¡± Festelda offered, holding back tears.

    ¡°Yes, and look what happened to that species,¡± he hissed back at Festelda.

    ¡°Bren¡­ calm yourself.¡± Dahj said, grabbing his arm.

    Festelda retreated from the room, hand covering her masked face as a tear dripped from her eye. As she left, she could only hope that the badger did not utter her name. Not in front of the Designer, at least. He would terminate her classes immediately over one bad apple.

    Silence fell over the room. The badger held back a smirk in reaction to Brenloru¡¯s comment.

    ¡°This is what they want,¡± Dahj said, noticing the pleasure the badger had taken. ¡°Division. Combat from within. It weakens us. Makes us vulnerable.¡± He turned towards the Designer. ¡°I agree. Exile this beast. Show zero tolerance for aggression. We will show violence no hospitality.¡±

    The Designer turned his gaze back to the badger. It must have been incredibly disheartening for him to witness his own creations turn on another. Species against species, he predicted. But for a badger to kill a badger¡­ This was something he hoped he would never endure.

    ¡°She is coming,¡± Henden whispered before the Designer could speak. ¡°She is coming, and she knows a way in. She will shred, tear, and ¨C¡±

    The Designer ripped him from Brenloru¡¯s grasp, dangling him in the air by a single tentacle. His pale flesh had flashed a fiery red.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t... kill one of your own,¡± the badger said, struggling between breaths.

    ¡°Clearly, you are no longer one of mine,¡± the Designer replied. The smoldering tentacle that gripped the rebellious badger burst into flames.

    The badger dissolved instantaneously. The remnants fell from the Designer¡¯s grip, reduced to simple components. A splash of water mixed with blood spattered on the floor. Tufts of hair drifted through the air. Bones picked clean of flesh fell into the puddle of liquid with hollow rattles.

    The chamber fell silent once the flickering flames of the Designer¡¯s reclamation tentacle was sated. Dahj and Brenloru stood petrified. A twinge of pain shot through Reblex¡¯s chest as he witnessed the omnivore perish.

    ¡°I pity him,¡± the Designer said, returning to his table. Colorful streaks of light zipped through his gas-filled head before popping against the walls as he mulled over the situation. ¡°But he knew my location. Those that have been converted cannot be trusted. If you see any examples of aggression, report to me.¡±

 Chapter 9: The Biodome

    Festelda snuck into Reblex¡¯s sleeping quarters before the sun had risen. With no sign of Dahj or Brenloru, she took advantage of their distraction to satisfy her curiosity. Brenloru¡¯s comments still coursed through her head, but she was unsure if her anger was warranted. Brenloru had not been incorrect, just abrasive.

    Creeping to his bed, she touched his arm to gently wake him. His eyes were already open, staring at the ceiling through a clouded mind. Without a sound, they made their way down the hallway towards the landing room, occasionally stepping over various rodents that had slept in the middle of the path.

    Awkwardly gesturing towards the roots hanging from the ceiling, Festelda attempted to encourage Reblex to grab them without saying it. As she flailed her arms and jumped in the air, Reblex¡¯s cheeks turned red in frustration. Finally, she ran around his back, hopped onto his shoulders, and reached out to grab a root. Reblex felt her weight leave his shoulders. He looked up to find that she was no longer present.

    Festelda stood in the cold, snow-littered field outside of the homestead. Stubborn enough to stick around into early spring, frigid the nights were still accommodating the hard-packed patches of ice. Having melted during the day then refreezing at night, they were fortified and quite slippery. Littered in sticks, needles, and mud displaced from high winds, the patches slowly leaked water down the hill into the valley below.

    Reblex appeared beside her, falling to the ground before cursing loudly. ¡°What, was that?¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Shhh!¡± she scolded. ¡°Transportation. However, it is the only root network I know of that will do that,¡± she said, turning to scan the mountains behind her.

    ¡°There,¡± Festelda said quietly, picking a path of least resistance that appeared to gain altitude quickly.

    The pair headed west with haste. Festelda knew they weren¡¯t technically doing anything wrong, but the feeling of a covert mission gave her a rush. It was best not to raise any questions from Dahj or Brenloru about their destination anyway. She pretended that it was critical to stick to the bases of trees and only move under the guise of the shadows as to not be spotted by a sentry.

    ¡°Hey! A tunnel?¡± Reblex said, pausing by one of the larger ice packs after leaping across a narrow, shallow stream.

    The spring snow pack sprawled across a steep grade facing north. Melting snow fueled a stream that carved its way underneath the snow pack, creating an arched tunnel with waved ridges.

    ¡°I can fit in here!¡± Festelda said as she went to investigate.

    Merely inches above her head, the roof of the ice tunnel dripped water on the back of her neck. The sound rushing water was amplified by, and echoed off the frigid walls. Small sticks and branches poked out of the receding base. Various large rocks and logs ricocheted water to the surrounding porous walls, speeding up the process of erosion.

    ¡°We just came from the Homestead of wood and rock tunnels¡­¡± Festelda noted as she explored her tiny, temporary fantasy land. ¡°This is the Homestead of water and ice tunnels!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d hate to see the tunnels of fire and lava!¡± Reblex called safely from the exit, afraid of collapsing the precarious tube should one of his horns hit the roof. ¡°Come on! The ascension is just a little further west!¡± His voice echoed loudly off the cylindrical ice cave.

    ***

    The pair made their way up steep grade as the sun rose from the east. Early morning shadows were cast from jagged peaks beside them, shading their path. For hours, Reblex appeared to be unphased. Barely breaking a pant, his powerful legs pushed him higher as Festelda¡¯s short extremities caused her to lag behind.

    ¡°Reb¡­ please¡­ oh my land. Slow down!¡± she cried, looking for something to drink. The snow had grown deeper, and the rocks more rugged. Slick ice froze to the top of loose shale as the pair gained altitude. Festelda was wasting too much time on sound footing, and Reblex was growing anxious as the day went on.

    The tree line had ended miles ago. No cedar nor pine was able to take root in this inhospitable ground. Soil was deep beneath the layer of shattered stone and the temperatures were frigid. Festelda felt exposed and vulnerable without anything vertical nearby to escape to. Bushes had dwindled to mere new growth poking through shale, desperately attempting to seek nourishment from the unforgiving land.

    Reblex felt pity for Festelda as she whined every time her weight shifted from ice or moving rock. He paused and waited for her to catch up, then offered his horn. Exhausted, she grabbed on and was pulled up to his back. Patting him on the head and shifting her vials, she made himself comfortable on his shoulders.

    Reblex picked up his pace as he felt the strength of the wind increasing. Grey clouds moved in from the west, overcasting the vast sky as wind mixed with light rain pelted him in the side of the face. Festelda had turned her head away to protect herself, tightly clutching his horns to avoid being blown off into the knee-deep snow.

    Even with his extensive experience of this mountain range, Reblex was losing his bearings in the relentless weather conditions. Canopies were nonexistent, and the gusts were only growing stronger as they gained altitude. Rain turned to ice as it pelted Reblex. It was time to find somewhere to take shelter until this storm blew over; finding this place of lore was not worth risking both their lives.

    Scanning the adjacent mountain peaks, it seemed hopeless to find any sort of cover to escape exposure at this altitude. One spot, however, caught his eye; a mountain face that seemed¡­ dry ¨C in the distance ¨C untouched by the particularly brutal weather. It connected to the surrounding mountains, forming a bowl shape. In his current position, the rest of the mountain face was not visible. It seemed to be their only option.

    Reblex put his head down and trudged through the snow in a straight line towards the peculiar spot of land. Unaware of his intended destination, Festelda kept her eyes shut tight, hoping she would keep her grip on his horns with her tiny fingers that had now gone completely numb. Clumps of frost accumulated on her eye lids and whiskers. She could no longer feel her nose. Her black mask had officially turned white to match her dominate complexion.

    Reblex dropped in altitude towards a canyon that led to the edge of the bowl-cut mountain face. The V-shaped gorge had collected fresh, powdery snow, fallen from the surrounding mountain peaks. Matching Reblex¡¯s chest height, it further inhibited his movement. His legs threatened to shatter with each exaggerated step. Visibility had begun to clear, however, and revealed that he did see a clear cliff face. In fact, it was quite green.

    Through the wet snowflakes, mist, and overcast skies, he recognized trees growing out of the side of the cliff face. Damp mosses blanketed boulders that the mountains had been constructed upon. He questioned if the sight could be real; like a mountainous mirage. The thought of warmer land revitalized and inspired him to keep moving. Reblex stepped to the end of the ravine, at the very top of the ridgeline surrounding the bowl-shaped depression in the land. Sun broke through the dense cloud cover to shed its rays on this exact hidden region.

    Warm rays covered his entire body, shielding him from snow mixed with rain. The sensation was like walking through an invisible wall. Harsh weather behind him was no longer audible, and snow had stopped falling. What had once been perceived as a small plot of land now opened up to acres of green fields littered with bushes, trees, grasses, and flowers. Many recognizable, and native to the territory at the base of the mountain. Other species of flora were completely foreign to the pair. A waterfall fell down the cliff face to the west, fueling a strong river that ran directly down the center of the protected area.

    Festelda suddenly felt comfortable enough to expose her face as she looked up to the clear blue skies above her. Pollen drifted through the air, tickling her nostrils as the ice that clung to the fur surrounding her face quickly melted, dripping onto Reblex¡¯s shoulders. She curled and stretched her fingers as feeling retuned. ¡°Where¡­ are we?¡± she asked, scanning the valley and the foreign plants that littered it. They varied greatly in size, and some appeared to be struggling to grow.

    ¡°We¡¯re here¡­ I guess?¡± Reblex said under his breath. Unsure if Festelda was even listening, he descended to the closest rocks that would provide solid footing.

    The cliff face seemed intentionally steep; an old crater, possibly created by an explosion or an immense meteor. No animal that lacked the capability of flight or climbing skills as exceptional as Reblex would be able to access this place.

    Although many of the species of flora were alien to the pair of explorers, most seemed to be thriving in this environment. Low standing shrubs had long, jagged leaves that tapered at the end, which danced playfully in the light breeze. Taller trees had thin, wax-like bark that sparkled in the sunlight, with branches that hung to the ground sprouting tendrils abundant with deep green leaves.

    Other species were not as successful. Various trees had grown vertically before warping and bending completely over in an arching fashion, their tops ending back in the ground. They were either too weak to support their own weight, or significantly directionally challenged. Some bushes were lack-luster cosmetically as well; only growing leaves on one side, their opposite side was completely barren. Low-standing flowers had shriveled and died, even in their earliest stages of life.

    Patches of tall grasses had rigid blades that stood straight into the air. Reblex was cautious to step on the patches out of fear of injury. Although they came up to his knees, he decided to experiment and found they instantly wilted on contact.

    Festelda hoped off Reblex¡¯s shoulders. Her muscles had regained feeling, and blood flowed to her extremities. The exciting variety of plants to experiment with, and possibly find something poisonous was overwhelming. Without hesitation, she approached what she could only assume was a tree. This particular species was covered in a sickly bark of deep yellows and reds; generally nature¡¯s colors of caution.

    The bark was as thin as paper and easily peeled away when scraped with a fingernail. Its growth seemed to be severely stunted, however. Its thick trunk had grown wider at the base than the tree was tall, only barley besting Reblex¡¯s height. The plump base and thinner neck made the tree resemble a short, fat, badger¡¯s large belly pouring over his belt. The trunk quickly tapered to a narrow crown that only displayed a few sickly leaves similar in color to the tree¡¯s bark. She swore it could be over one hundred years old, wishing she could count the rings.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Some of these plants¡­ they¡¯re suffering¡­¡± Festelda said solemnly. She scanned the field, recording all species present as she rubbed thin bark between her fingers. She recognized none.

    ¡°These,¡± Reblex agreed, kneeling to inspect a plant with a thick, deep-blue stem. It had grown to about three feet high before wilting over, unable to hold up its own weight. ¡°It should have flowered by now in this climate.¡±

    ¡°This brush¡­¡± Festelda moved towards one that had only managed to grow leaves in broken patches. Looking to the sky, she found that the sides barren of leaves were populated in flowers that only faced north to south. ¡°Even the softest rays of sun scorch the buds of this plant. It can only bare growth on its north-south side¡­ Pitiful.¡± Using a loose stick, she grazed the brittle leaves. They crumpled and cowered with minimal coercion.

    Flowers populated the bush on the ends of rigid, otherwise barren branches. The pedals were streaked in an intimidating red color that made Festelda wary. The leaves that did manage to grow were bright green dotted in sickly yellow. They were long and oval shaped, covered in waxy polish. ¡°Pitiful¡­ but possibly potent,¡± she said, pinching a few using her mortal and pedestal to avoid contact with her fingers. She ground the leaves, then dripped the oily deposit into a pouch from her side. The oil smelled of rot, causing her nose to scrunch.

    ¡°A plant that protects nothing,¡± a voice said. The brush piquing Festelda¡¯s interest rustled.

    Festelda jumped back, nearly dropping her tools and the oil she had gathered. A creature unveiled himself, carelessly allowing many of the branches and leaves to brush against his arm and side of his shell.

    He towered over Festelda despite his stubby, leathery legs. Small, pointed toenails stuck out of his trunk-like feet. His torso was long, however, seemingly stretched through the plated shell protecting his chest. The creature resembled a tortoise able to stand erect.

    ¡°Who¡­¡± Festelda stuttered.

    ¡°I was never really given a name,¡± the tortoise interrupted. He stared down at her over his sharp, beak-like face. His age was obvious. Loose, wrinkled skin was seemingly draped over his skull. Bags under his eyes hung deep, leaking tears unrelated to emotion.

    ¡°You were wise not to touch that plant little one,¡± the tortoise groaned. He reached his long arm covered in thick, brown hair to claw at one of the yellow-dotted leaves. ¡°Incredibly poisonous, yet fails to grow in any weather conditions other than the present.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ able to touch it, though.¡± Festelda said.

    ¡°Well I¡¯ve been around it for long enough. Took a while to form an immunity, I¡¯ll admit.¡± He slowly dropped a leaf into his mouth. ¡°I have grown resistant to many unique species in the area. There are quite a few, after all!¡±

    Reblex approached from the side, inspecting the massive shell the tortoise carried on his back. Dome-shaped and reinforced, it had shallow triangular points covering the surface. Should it be solid, he assumed it would weight a thousand pounds. Much of the shell appeared to be quite smooth, presumably from friction. No scratch marks or signs of attacks visible across the shell; perhaps the tortoise had never needed to use it for defense. Reblex assumed the tortoise had spent most of his time laying on his back, bathing in the sun rather than fighting for his territory.

    The sound of beating wings stole Reblex¡¯s attention from the shell. A large bird fluttered down to join the new company. It stood as tall as the tortoise with a much straighter posture to its thin body. The creature had long, slim legs with bumpy, textured skin. Black feathers were attached to his arms, enabling it to fly. Its torso was covered in short, black feathers streaked with white.

    ¡°New residents?¡± the bird asked through its sharp, triangular, yellow beak.

    ¡°Appears so,¡± the tortoise replied, keeping his old eyes on Festelda. ¡°Although, this one just appears to be a¡­ raccoon. The ram is coming along quite nicely ¨C pity he was deemed a failure.¡±

    ¡°Failure?¡± Reblex butted in. ¡°What are you talking about old man?¡±

    ¡°Well, the Designer sent you here when he deemed you unworthy of being a Guardian, did he not?¡± the tortoise replied, taken aback.

    The plants surrounding them stood motionless. Wind came through the valley in controlled intervals, as if on a timer. It was currently set to ¡®off¡¯.

    ¡°You know about the Designer? The Guardians?¡± Festelda asked.

    ¡°Well of course. I was supposed to be one,¡± the tortoise replied, turning to her. ¡°Unfortunately, my hands never developed to the Designer¡¯s liking.¡± He rolled his leathery stumps over before her. Tiny, failed fingers capped in sharp nails protruded from them. A nub on the side of his hand ¨C an attempted thumb ¨C lacked any practical use. ¡°Although my posture and defensive traits were successful, the Designer decided my sluggish speed and lack of thumbs deemed me unworthy, and I was sent here.¡±

    "How long ago?¡± Festelda asked.

    ¡°Hundreds of years. I have accepted many generations of rejected Guardians.¡± The tortoise eyed Festelda up and down. ¡°Rodents, birds, deer, elk, badgers¡­ You, little one, appear to merely be a raccoon. Were you really eligible to be a Guardian?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ well¡­ not yet. I¡¯m working on it,¡± she replied bashfully.

    ¡°I knew it,¡± Reblex said under his breath. He picked up a nut fallen from a nearby tree. Long and cylindrical, the shell felt much softer and less protective than any he had consumed. Rolling it between his fingers with moderate pressure easily split the weak shell, finding nothing edible.

    ¡°I was sent here after he deemed my species, the woodpecker, to be too vulnerable,¡± the bird-man next to the tortoise said. He brushed a hand through the bright red, mohawk-like plume atop his head that pointed diagonally up and back away from him.

    ¡°I am not a reject,¡± Reblex said, cheeks turning red as he threw down the empty nut. ¡°I am actually a Guardian. I awoke in the Cedar Homestead after my¡­ rejuvenation.¡± Stuttering, he realized how ridiculous his claims sounded.

    ¡°Well. Good for you, ram,¡± the tortoise said bitterly. ¡°Then what brings you here?¡±

    ¡°I have heard of this place in tales,¡± Reblex replied. ¡°What exactly¡­ is it for?¡±

    ¡°Testing, mostly. This old crater is climate controlled to remain paused in an ideal season year-round. We do not experience extreme weather patterns here. As you can see, there are many rejected plant species, along with the animals,¡± the tortoise replied as his legs grew weary of standing. He leaned back, plopping his butt into the rigid grasses on a small hill, causing them to wilt and fall flat instantly. His stubbly legs stuck out in front of him, revealing the thickly-calloused bottoms of his feet.

    ¡°How long do his creations typically last here?¡± Festelda asked.

    ¡°It depends,¡± the woodpecker replied. ¡°Some hours, some years. If the plants last long enough, they are deemed successful, then grown in suitable places of the planet. The animals, however, never leave. We are all failed subjects.¡±

    ¡°Have you ever tried?¡±

    ¡°What do you expect me to do? Hike up that hill?¡± the old tortoise replied with a scoff as he attempted to scratch a spot under his shell with his furry hands.

    ¡°I stay here to keep him company. I suppose I have never really attempted to leave,¡± the woodpecker pondered. ¡°There are many trees here suitable to drill homes into.¡±

    ¡°It was only after my death that I gained the suitable physical qualities to be a Guardian,¡± Reblex said in a low tone. ¡°You didn¡¯t¡­ evolve after you fell?¡±

    ¡°Death,¡± the woodpecker said under his breath, eyebrow raised.

    Festelda gasped as a sickly squirrel pitifully crawled through the brown grasses behind the group. Its limbs were long and lanky. Each were better described as ¡®arms¡¯, rather than ¡®legs¡¯, with spindly fingers. Small nubs protruded out of the sides of the hands. Failed thumbs. Its breaths were short and labored as it attempted to find food or water.

    Reblex swore sharply at the sight of the creature. ¡°Aren¡¯t you upset?¡± he said, raising his voice. ¡°He augmented your bodies! Only to decide you were unworthy of a decent existence, and exiled you to this forsaken place¡­¡±

    Anger overwhelmed the ram. He considered charging to terminate the long-limbed squirrel underfoot, convincing himself that it would be better to put the thing out of its misery.

    ¡°Reblex¡­ calm down,¡± Festelda said, grabbing his arm.

    ¡°His motive is understandable. The predators face no threat. Soon their population will control this planet. You cannot expect the Designer to develop a suitable enemy right away, can you? Thus, we are stepping stones on a path to an answer.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that is an¡­ optimistic view of your situation,¡± Festelda said. ¡°Noble of you.¡±

    ¡°This location must never be revealed,¡± the tortoise wheezed. ¡°We need this area. A sanctuary for those with nowhere else to go. Please never speak of this to anyone.¡±

    ¡°Do you ever wish to leave?¡± Festelda offered.

    ¡°Perhaps. When the predators are gone,¡± the tortoise replied slowly as he rolled backwards onto his shell, facing his stomach towards the sun to warm. His limbs dangled weakly.

    Festelda turned to examine the field surrounding them, experiencing mixed emotions. She appreciated the uniqueness of every plant here, and pitied that none would ever flourish in the real world. If only she could take a few with her ¨C perhaps the miniature trees with wide, waxy pedals, or the gaping, flowered plant with mouth-like leaves, ready to swallow an unsuspecting rodent. The species were limitless, though she knew that they wouldn¡¯t last a day in natural soil.

    ¡°Are you comfortable here?¡± Festelda asked the sunbathing tortoise.

    ¡°For¡­ the most part,¡± he replied with an exaggerated yawn. ¡°Back in the region of the Cedar Homestead, my species was quite cold for most of the year. I didn¡¯t like it there much. That¡¯s why the Designer offered me fur on most of my body.¡± He lazily lifted one of his furry arms.

    ¡°But now here, this darn stuff¡­ too difficult to manage for an old guy like me¡­ it just collects dirt and becomes matted under my shell. An example of too many ideas, yet none very practical.¡± Sighing, the tortoise struggled to reach an itch underneath shell and dirty, tangled fur.

    ¡°Jahev,¡± he continued, ¡°please show our guests out. Do not let them take anything.¡±

    Jahev the woodpecker kept a close eye on the pair as they made their way to the path from which they descended. Festelda paused near a group of tall, slim trees that grew vertically. About ten individual trees had woven themselves together before strangling one another; preventing both air and water from traveling through the trunks. Their tops were now decrepit and void of leaves.

    At the base of the cluster laid a skeleton of what appeared to be an elk. Male, judging by the rack, but the points had grown sporadically and curled in random directions or complete circles. The limbs were what caught her attention, however. The creature¡¯s skeleton lacked hooves, and instead had the bones of four fingers ¨C with an additional short, gnarled bone on the side. A pitiful sigh escaped Festelda as Jahev encouraged her forward.

    Reblex scaled the face of the crater towards the exit with Festelda perched on his back. The air grew colder as they approached the invisible, dome-shaped barrier that stabilized the climate within the crater. Snow mixed with rain flurried towards the pair, instantly melting and falling to the ground as droplets when hitting the transparent barrier.

    The memory of the pain they had endured to venture here numbed Festelda¡¯s mind as she felt harsh air seep through the barrier. The sensation felt like icy fingers eagerly reaching, straining to grab her face and neck. Reblex turned to Jahev, who was fluttering his wings, suspending himself in air as he watched them exit. Reblex nodded and stepped through the barrier into the pelting snow. The sound of the wind was instantly deafening, muting the thoughts that raced through Festelda¡¯s head. Clutching Reblex¡¯s horns, she tightly shut her eyes.

    ***

    Festelda and Reblex silently returned to the Homestead, both digesting the information they had gathered differently. Reblex wondered what it was going to take for he, too, to be cast aside when deemed unworthy, but promised Festelda he would not divulge the story to anyone. Festelda, however, understood the concept of trial and error, and pitied those who didn¡¯t make it to the rank of ¡®Guardian¡¯, was glad to see that they were at least content in their controlled environment.

    ¡°Are you feeling better?¡± Festelda asked gently, breaking the silence as their feet met dryer ground.

    ¡°I guess. Some things just feel unjustified,¡± Reblex replied.

    ¡°You seemed really upset. These waves of anger come in pretty strong bursts, huh?¡±

    ¡°The Designer knew about that. Wanted to know how I ¡®unlock it¡¯, or something. My only explanation was when a threat is present,¡± he said, stepping over a fallen tree.

    ¡°So, you felt threatened there?¡± Festelda asked.

    ¡°Kind of. I mean, the threat being ending up in that place. But I knew I wasn¡¯t in immediate danger,¡±

    ¡°Odd. Perhaps the conditions have been altered in this new life.¡± Festelda rounded a patch of ice to avoid skidding.

    Reblex questioned what would make him want to take his temporary anger out on the squirrel; an innocent bystander.

    ¡°Thanks for defending Henden, Reb,¡± Festelda said after a pause.

    ¡°Defend him? Did I?¡±

    ¡°Well, you gave him a chance, at least. Trials are important. Omnivore or not, they deserve a voice before they¡¯re evaporated,¡± Festelda said.

    The pair crested the hill leading to the roots of the Homestead as Reblex tossed the idea of ¡®defending an omnivore¡¯ around in his head, attempting to recollect his exact emotions during Henden¡¯s trial. ¡°I don¡¯t really know why I did it,¡± he said, watching Festelda scan for an entry root. ¡°What he did was vicious and unforgivable. I see that now, but in the moment, I understood him.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps in the moment, you were defending my teachings, and didn¡¯t want the blame to be passed to my instruction,¡± Festelda offered.

    ¡°I guess so¡­¡± Reblex replied. Festelda had already grabbed a root and disappeared.

 Chapter 10: Departure

    The Guardians, joined by Festelda, congregated near the Landing Room the following morning. Spring was in full swing, and the Designer had deemed the group prepared to embark on their journey. Brenloru had apologized profusely to Festelda for his harsh words during their assembly with the Designer; regarding the fate of the badger. She was quick to forgive the moose, as she now had bigger issues than insubordination clouding her mind.

    Reblex stood near a corner wearing a grim expression. While Brenloru had Dahj distracted in consultation regarding various combinations of medicinal herbs, Festelda approached the troubled ram.

    ¡°You know we need to do this,¡± she said lowly.

    Reblex nodded, holding his tongue as he watched the moose fumble for flora within his pouch. Brenloru had months to perfect his craft, yet none of the residents trusted him to properly patch up a mere laceration.

    ¡°I know your judgement is clouded by what we discovered on that mountain,¡± Festelda mumbled to the ram. ¡°But this is could dictate the future of herbivores.¡±

    ¡°Which is exactly why I¡¯m participating¡­¡± Reblex muttered in return. ¡°As if I have anything else to occupy my time.¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ Watch the anger, okay? Unless absolutely necessary, it doesn¡¯t help our cause,¡± Festelda said.

    Dahj handed a handful of mixed plants back to Brenloru with a nod that lacked assurance. He turned to the pair and beckoned them towards the Landing room.

    Dahj stumbled on damp soil after using the root transportation system to leave the Cedar Homestead. After spending months underground, dawn¡¯s sunlight made him squint immediately. Fresh mountain air bit the insides of his nostrils and filled his lungs as he took a deep breath and straightened his posture. It felt wonderful after the musty, stale cave air.

    Scanning the tree-littered valley below filled him with mixed emotions. What had once home now felt like dangerous territory to roam. He felt like prey constantly exuding a potent scent of blood throughout the very fields he had spent most his life. It was an odd experience to be traversing this land without a herd in tow. Despite his improved physical form, and blessings of the land, he felt powerless, and thus vulnerable.

    The moment everyone had exited the tree, the party ducked their heads and moved east as quickly and quietly as possible, headed for the nearest tree line and brush cover. Reblex tailed behind, over-embellishing difficulties with his new posture; fearing it would be obvious to Brenloru and Dahj that this was not his first time leaving the Cedar Homestead.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s first?¡± Reblex asked awkwardly after stumbling over rocks and roots, feigning an attempt to gain reliable control over his footing.

    ¡°Well, the plan is to head directly towards the area of fables the Designer described. We should be able to check a few places off our list there,¡± Dahj whispered back, keeping his posture low. His hunched back almost felt more comfortable in this position. A posture more familiar to him.

    Brenloru led, frantically scanning the horizon with vibrant blue eyes for any signs of movement from a predator. Inhaling deeply through his long snout, he analyzed scents traveling downwind, but didn¡¯t detect anything. He, too, was still getting used to the exposure of fresh forest air. The pleasure of it was slightly intoxicating, distracting him from the task at hand.

    ¡°The cave I suggested is a little out of the way,¡± Brenloru said over his shoulder. ¡°We will visit it last, on our way back home.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Dahj made eye contact and nodded in agreement.

    Exposed granite rocks streaked in white jutted out of the soil, surrounded by rigid sagebrush. The first wave of blue, white, purple and yellow wildflowers was triumphantly scattered throughout the gradual hillside, solidifying the feeling of spring. Festelda quickly picked a forget-me-not and tucked it behind her ear as she scurried behind the Guardians.

    ***

    Traveling south east as quickly, and inconspicuously as possible during daylight hours, the Guardians covered as much ground as their bodies would allow, infrequently communicating and seldomly taking breaks. Eventually, the sky burned red as the sun set behind the western mountain range. Brenloru declared they would stop in the current forest as their first resting place. Dahj grazed briefly, never looking directly down at his food. Even while chewing, his eyes darted back and forth, covering one hundred and eighty degrees in front of him.

    Festelda carried a handful of nuts and seeds, popping one in her mouth at a time as she casually inspected the base of the trees surrounding them, forget-me-not drooping near her forehead. Many of the trees had patches of mosses soaked in rainwater climbing up their rough bark. Beads of water collected at the end of tiny sprouts within the moss before dripping to the soil below. Lichen spotted various large rocks. Although colorful, the plant resembled a patchy skin infection ¨C quickly spreading with the intention of blanketing the boulders entirely.

    Festelda stopped dead in her tracks when a series of thin vines that sprawled across the forest floor caught her attention. The vines climbed the bark of surrounding trees and wove over rocks. Leaves in groups of threes sprouted along the sprawling vines.

    ¡°Guys, here. Check this out,¡± Festelda said. ¡°This, is poison ivy.¡±

    The three Guardians approached the tree, Dahj still occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s what I use for my paralysis potion,¡± she continued, using a long branch to delicately lift one of the leaves from a safe distance. ¡°Oils excreted from the leaves cause extreme irritation to the skin, even in small doses. However, when concentrated, it can completely debilitate a large animal on contact, or even kill if consumed.¡±

    ¡°Great, so, you wanna grab some before we move on tomorrow?¡± Reblex asked dismissively.

    ¡°I mean, sure, but¡­¡± her lower jaw fell open as she looked around. The dominating presence of the vine over the forest floor filled her with dread.

    ¡°I had no idea it was spreading this quickly,¡± Festelda continued, feeling paralyzed without even touching the plant. ¡°This is an invasive species, created by the queen of the carnivores. It was a malicious project of hers after she and the Designer went their separate ways. It is meant to spread quickly, blanketing and strangling native species. I thought I would be able to harvest and utilize small patches of it I found on our journey, but I am shocked to find that it has managed to spread on this scale.¡±

    ¡°So, how do we get rid of the stuff?¡± Dahj inquired.

    ¡°Well, experimenting with various oils and leaves I have collected over time, I have developed a counter toxin.¡± She rummaged through a pouch at her side. ¡°However, I haven¡¯t been able to test it on such an intricate vine network yet. If I can locate the roots¡­¡± Tiptoeing to safe areas between the woven vines, she followed the largest ones to multiple locations of main roots. Keeping her eyes fixed on the exact spot, she procured a small vial from her waist pouch made of woven, dried grasses.

    ¡°This should do it,¡± she said, sprinkling a fine powder over vines that led to a root mass.

    Almost instantaneously, the leaves of the toxic plant withered, and the vines retreated from their encroachment up the nearest tree. Leaves curled and turned black before disintegrating into the ground the network had spread across. Returning to the earth, the plant¡¯s resources were recycled back into the soil to be used for something more deserving of life.

    ¡°It will take a little time to finish it off, but I¡¯m glad to see positive results. These strangling plants have no place here,¡± Festelda claimed as the vines withered and died with a light rustle.

    Secretly, she too was surprised by the results, but showed only confidence as she tucked the vials containing the counter toxin back into her hip pouches.

    Reblex kicked dead, shriveled vines to the side, exposing moist soil below that had not seen the light of day in some time.

    Dahj, Brenloru, and Reblex each picked different places against rocks or trees to bed for the night, allowing leaves and roots to blanket them. They each blended in with their surroundings as they were covered completely. Festelda took advantage of a separate ivy plant to harvest oils from before scurrying up a tree to sleep for the night.

 Chapter 11: We are Cursed!

    Dahj awoke the next morning just as the sun¡¯s rays were peeking over the eastern mountain range. Another dream. A chilling reminder of the past Dahj was having just before waking lingered over his conscious mind. He gazed at the furthest mountain range, eyes flicking from peak to base of each of the studious rock formations. They stood wide and proud, each frigid peak capped in snow.

    He had recalled the details of this dream multiple times throughout winter, but could just barely decipher the details, and was unsure of its significance. The voices and laughter of a group of red dogs rang through his head. He could remember their faces, but not their names. Why do I keep thinking about these calves? Are they individuals I am meant to seek out? he thought. Pine branches above him rustled in the morning air, releasing needles that fell and littered the soil around him, mimicking the sound of rain.

    The imagery of the field he scanned, along with the smell of chilled morning air was slowly jogging his memory. A strong gust carrying pollen from various plants danced over the valley. Elks bugled for a mate from a distant ridge. These traits of the land were helping to retrieve memories buried deep within his subconscious. Memories that could be quite valuable in tracking down descendants of his herd, should they finally surface.

    Dahj remembered spring mornings of his past life; when he would head to a nearby field accompanied by a group of red dogs for the purpose of instruction in self-defense. Demonstrations generally included head swinging, charging, and kicking with the hind legs. Anxiety clutched him and he struggled to determine why these moments in time should be memorable, and possibly revisited.

    All but Dahj were able to sleep through the night undisturbed after returning to the wilderness for the first time. Their respective ¡®bedding¡¯ retreated, back into the soil as each rose to face the day. Those that slept in the soil dusted themselves off while Festelda stretched and yawned from the branches above, then gathered her personal items before climbing down.

    The group gathered various fresh spring berries and nutritious leaves to fuel another dawn-to-dusk journey across unfamiliar land towards the fabled super volcano. Dahj took note of animals indigenous to the region he passed through. Their reactions to the group were generally the same. Deer and elk would perk up their heads, keeping unwavering eye contact from a safe distance. Squirrels would scurry up trees, and small rodents would retreat to safe hiding places, assuming danger was imminent. The Guardians were quite a unique pack, after all. No other living creature was currently able to walk upright and swing their front arms as they moved, much less carry tools and pouches.

    At this point they could rely only on the current position of the sun for direction. Should clouds move through, or the sky become overcast, they could become completely lost in this foreign territory.

    ***

    Eventually, they came across a twelve-point bull elk that didn''t immediately flee at the sight of them. Dahj approached the old bull at a slow pace, hands exposed.

    ¡°Where are you from?¡± the bull inquired, voice shaking. Each point of his rack curved aimlessly, as if undecided on a set direction to grow. Two points had even weaved themselves around each other. The rack seemed as old as the bull himself, each year failing to shed from his broad head.

    ¡°I am not a predator. I am just lost and seek your guidance,¡± Dahj said in a low voice, keeping the palms of his hands exposed to avoid appearing threatening.

    ¡°Predators have been more and more abundant in this area. Why should I assist you?¡± the elk asked as he gazed at Dahj with his one usable eye. His other was covered in a thick, white cataract.

    ¡°I myself am bison. My friends behind me moose, ram, and raccoon. We feed off the land. Not flesh. You are not an appropriate meal for us,¡± Dahj replied confidently. He looked the bull up and down, finding it odd that he would be traveling alone. He seemed to be an easy meal¡­ Slow, overweight, blind. He pitied the animal, but now was not the time to adopt stragglers. There must have been some reason that this creature was able to thrive for so long.

    The elk relaxed, believing the bison¡¯s statement.

    ¡°We seek a place of power. One only spoken of in fables. Where boiling water shoots from the ground and life is abundant.¡± Dahj''s voice deepened. ¡°It is critical we find this place in order to push back the threat of the predators. Can you direct us there?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ the land of yellow rocks. The only place I know of to find such a stone. Yes, it is a place of wonders. I have raised generations there¡­¡± said the bull, raspy voice trailing off as he turned his focus towards the distance. ¡°You are headed in the right direction. Remain on this migration trail until you reach the settlement of the cursed prairie dogs. From there, you are not far.¡±

    ¡°Cursed¡­ prairie dogs? Yellow rocks? What are you on about old bull?¡± Reblex asked with an irritated scoff.

    ¡°Reb!¡± Festelda scolded as she punched him in the leg.

    ¡°He¡¯s crazy! Look at him. Probably doesn¡¯t know where he is!¡± Reblex pushed her tiny fist away, defending himself from a second assault.

    The elk turned his clouded eyes on Reblex. ¡°Heh. calm yourself young one. You show your emotions easily. You are the ones that approached me, after all. I am simply trying to help.¡±

    Festelda turned back to the elk to apologize, but her words stuck to her throat as she looked at his legs. Knobby and slightly bowed, each leg had sturdy hooves at the end. On the side, however, appeared to be a finger growing where dew claws should be. Merely a stub, it hung worthlessly, covered in short fur.

    The size and shape reminded Festelda of the skeletons they had found in the climate-controlled region she and Reblex had visited. Perhaps this elk was¡­ unknowingly another generation of attempted Guardians. He had failed at developing the necessary physical attributes, thus left to aimlessly wander the endless plains without a purpose. At least he had been gifted with an extended lifespan.

    ¡°Thank you for your time, bull.¡± Dahj held his hand up, palm exposed to Reblex with the intention of silencing him.

    ¡°Hmm. Good luck, I suppose. It is a tragedy to harbor the desire to find something, yet never truly knowing where to start. I know the feeling all too well, strange one.¡± The elk nodded slowly and continued down the game trail, wavering slightly on his bowed legs. Festelda felt pity for him, but he had clearly made it quite far in life. Ignorance was bliss.

    ¡°Reb¡­ watch it,¡± Festelda hissed under her breath.

    ¡°What was that about?¡± Brenloru asked, once the bull was out of earshot.

    ¡°Sorry I just¡­ Sometimes my temper gets away from me.¡± Reblex squeezed his eyes shut and huffed heavily. ¡°I didn¡¯t really ask for this. I want to assist you, but¡­ I mean, I don¡¯t have any friends. Any family. They have all been gone now for who-knows how long. I must have a reason for being here ¨C a purpose. This has all just happened so fast¡­¡±

    Festelda watched him nervously as she held her breath, hoping he wouldn¡¯t leak information about the testing grounds out of frustration to Dahj and Brenloru.

    Dahj approached him and firmly grabbed one of his horns. ¡°Reb,¡± he said sternly. ¡°That has happened to all of us. I cannot even remember how I originally fell, or how many generations have passed since the one I belonged to. We are all confused, but we all know why we are here. We demonstrated exceptional leadership.¡±

    Reblex made eye contact with him and snorted out of modesty.

    ¡°Deep down, the most important thing to us is the earth, and the earth chose us.¡± Dahj pulled on the horn he was holding, forcefully turning Reblex¡¯s head towards the southeast. ¡°Now.  Our priority ¨C the only thing we need to focus on, is completing our journey.¡±

    Reblex agreed, then turned to Festelda. They made eye contact and he nodded at her, reassuring that he would keep their secret.

    Festelda subtly let out a sigh of relief as the group continued down the game trail. Grasses were matted down from hoof traffic of large herds that had used it to migrate north for spring. Dahj scanned the side of the trail for rigid, encroaching branches that may have caught tufts of bison pelt as they passed through.

    ***

    The sun rose on the third day. As Dahj and his group pushed forward, the orange light of dawn blinded his left eye. Utilizing a walking stick in his left hand, he twiddled the beard that hung from his chin with his other. It had grown a considerable amount since his awakening, and now met the middle of his chest. Considering it a burden, he contemplated tying it in a fashionable way to keep it more manageable.

    ¡°How about you, Bren? Do you remember how you first fell?¡± Dahj asked, pulling at his chin hairs.

    ¡°Well yes, of course. That memory passes through my head at least once a day. It was an event that I may never truly understand,¡± Brenloru replied through labored breathing.

    ¡°Heh. Well consider yourself lucky. At least you know how you fell.¡±

    ¡°Quite literally, in fact,¡± Brenloru replied. ¡°I was doing my normal rounds, on an average day. Up at dawn, patrolling the nearest mountain ridge, calling for lost moose. We are a rare species, after all. Should any of us need a home or protection, I acted as a beacon to guide them to safety.¡±

    ¡°It was the middle of summer; I expected a beautiful day. As I called and called throughout the afternoon, the sky suddenly grew dark. I tried to think nothing of it, as I had been through plenty of storms. This one came on much faster than I was prepared for, however. I always kept to the very edge of cliffs, as to project and amplify my calls as much as possible.¡± Brenloru suddenly became quite cautious with his footing.

    ¡°I soon found myself under a downpour. Lighting streaked through the sky. The soil became saturated with water so quickly, it caught me off guard. I finally decided it was time to seek cover; quite ironic, I now realize,¡± Brenloru snickered. ¡°Suddenly it was I that was seeking refuge. I turned directly into the wind. Rain pelted me right in the face ¨C I had to keep my eyes closed. A strong gust hit my left shoulder, and I sidestepped¡­ right to the very edge of the cliff I had been calling from. It easily crumbled under my weight, and I tumbled,¡± he said mournfully.

    Festelda yelped, as if watching the story in real time.

    ¡°It felt as though every impact during my fall was followed by the crash of thunder. When I finally came to a stop in mud, I could feel every shattered bone in my body, yet I could not worry about myself. I feared for my family. As I laid there, motionless, my body quickly sank into the mud. Everything grew dark,¡± Brenloru continued, keeping his eyes to the ground. ¡°Next thing I knew I was waking up in that very dirt ¨C which was now completely dry, mind you. It covered my entire body. As I pushed myself out of the pile of crumbled dirt, I found that flowers had grown on my temporary grave.¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°That was¡­ beautiful!¡± Festelda cried with a tear in her eye.

    ¡°That storm, though. Very peculiar,¡± Dahj said with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Quite unlikely for that time of year.¡±

    ¡°Something I ponder every day, friend,¡± Brenloru replied sternly. ¡°However, nature can be quite unpredictable. I have seen many extreme demonstrations from the elements in my time. In fact ¨C¡±

    Brenloru¡¯s thought was cut short as the team breached the tree line of the lodgepole pine forest they were pushing through. Before them laid another open valley, yet this one was quite striking. The land was littered with deep holes. Grasses that once blanketed valley and surrounded the holes were now nonexistent. The dirt was seemingly quite void of life in general. Barren and dusty, the tan soil was disturbed by even the slightest breeze.

    As they cautiously approached holes dug sporadically throughout the barren terrain, they discovered small, lifeless bodies. Shrieks came from the within the holes in response to their presence.

    ¡°Prairie dogs,¡± muttered Brenloru. ¡°I recognize the squeals. They¡¯re distressed.¡±

    Using a stick, Dahj prodded a couple of stiff, lifeless bodies strewn about the field. Some fresh, others had begun to decompose. ¡°You don¡¯t think?¡±

    ¡°Yes, the cursed,¡± Brenloru replied.

    ¡°Cursed! HA. A bold-faced lie from a crazy old bull. Curses don¡¯t exist. He was trying to scare us,¡± Reblex boasted, attempting to mask his concern.

    ¡°Look at them. Famished. They were quite thin when they perished,¡± Festelda observed.

    As they continued to inspect the bodies, a prairie dog slowly emerged from one of the holes. ¡°Hel...p¡­ me¡­ Are you here to help¡­ us?¡± he stuttered dryly, exerting all of his energy to crawl towards the group. The bags under his eyes drooped deeply. His empty cheeks hung deflated from the sides of his face like the excess skin of a large-breed puppy. His front teeth were exposed a considerable amount, even for a prairie dog.

    ¡°Stop right there! Are you really cursed?¡± Reblex shouted, face turning red.

    ¡°Yes, cursed¡­ she.... cursed us. The one with the yellow eyes,¡± the weak prairie dog stammered.

    ¡°Yellow eyes¡­¡± Brenloru mumbled under his breath.

    ¡°Come here, little one. Tell me more.¡± Brenloru smashed a pack of herbs in his hands and picked up the small animal.

    The prairie dog coughed harshly when exposed to the herbs Brenloru had chosen. Tiny ribs protruded though his strained body as he wheezed, unable to breathe.

    ¡°Maybe not right now,¡± Dahj said, lowering Brenloru¡¯s hand that contained the herbs.

    ¡°They were helping!¡± Brenloru said irritably. ¡°Fine. Eat this, little one.¡± He cupped seeds in his opposite hand and fed them to the prairie dog.

    ¡°Your name,¡± Reblex said firmly once the prairie dog had worked through the coughing fit.

    ¡°Rint.¡± He picked seeds from Brenloru¡¯s palm one at a time, quickly shoving them in his mouth. ¡°She¡­ she cursed the land. Food no longer grows. She tried to send her goons after us. But we hid. We hid in our network of tunnels beneath the surface. We kept scouts on post at all times,¡± he slowly explained between nibbling on seeds. ¡°We developed calls to warn of incoming predators. They were rarely successful in catching us. She became so frustrated that she cursed this soil and left us to starve.¡±

    ¡°Can you further describe her?¡± Dahj asked.

    ¡°She¡­ she didn¡¯t look like her goons. Yellow, narrow eyes. Like slits in her head. Large, muscular. That¡¯s all I remember. If you are on post, and you see those eyes in the moonlight, you know it¡¯s time to hide,¡± Rint mumbled.

    ¡°What is the status of your numbers, Rint?¡± Festelda asked calmly.

    ¡°Dozens still, but all weak¡­ all tired,¡± Rint squealed. His small belly bulged, and color had begun to return to his face.

    Brenloru set the famished animal down on the dusty soil. Rint continued eating the provided seeds one at a time as he nervously scanned the area for the predators that had cursed him.

    ¡°Reblex and I will begin to gather food outside of the cursed area,¡± Festelda stated slowly, scanning the horizon. ¡°Rint, please gather as many of your kind as possible for healing salves and Brenloru¡¯s remaining nuts and seeds. We will work on fixing this ¡®curse¡¯ at dawn.¡±

    ¡°Salves,¡± she said sharply to the moose before departing with Reblex. ¡°No more powders.¡±

    ¡°Oh, uh¡­ right,¡± Brenloru replied, returning to rummaging though his bags.

    Dahj and Brenloru crafted temporary shelters for the prairie dogs by calling on the assistance of roots, leaves, and soil away from the proximity of the cursed land,. Kneeling, Dahj placed his hand ¨C palm down, on healthier prairies. Dirt moved voluntarily to cover the back of his hands, forming the shape of igloos which were reinforced by roots and vines. Leaves sprouted from the roofs of the small huts for insulation and shading. Unearthed pebbles rolled to the base of the walls as a foundation for the tiny structures. Although primitive, they would have to do for the time being.

    Most of the shaken prairie dogs happily moved into the row of healthier housing. Rint, however, protested at the small detail of the housing being above ground. He insisted that should the beast with yellow eyes and her goons return, the small, fragile housing would be far more accessible. Dahj assured the stubborn prairie dog that he and the Guardians would be present throughout the night to protect them, should that issue arise.

    The weak residents were comforted and provided fatty foods to fill their empty stomachs. Many were barely hanging on; outlines of ribs and hip bones were visible under their skin and fur. Basic motor skills were suffering. Communication was almost non-existent. Quick to flop down, they curled up in the small beds of dew-covered grasses that grew naturally from the flooring. The comfort of living plants was intoxicating. Some had fallen asleep before the sun had set, while others discreetly nibbled on their carpets of grass within their homes.

    Brenloru lined the insides of their housing with traces of soothing oils. To Dahj¡¯s surprise, it calmed their frail minds, allowing sleep to join them in the crafted domes. He commended the moose, who wore a smug grin as if he expected it all along.

    The Guardians regrouped with Rint once they were satisfied with the living conditions provided to the prairie dogs for the night. Grouped just on the edge of the lifeless land, Dahj comforted Rint into divulging more information about this beast that had been cursing the landscape.

    Dahj hid worry regarding his adversary¡¯s supernatural arsenal that the Designer had failed to prepare them for. His fingers were barely functional. His posture was a hinderance. The only weapons he possessed were primitive and fragile. How was he supposed to repel curses? Was this something one of Brenloru¡¯s mending concoctions could counter in a pinch?

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you move? Or at least seek food from elsewhere?¡± Dahj inquired, sitting with a heavy slouch next to the tiny creature.

    Rint sighed and shook his head. His wide-eyed gaze seemed to be passing right over his own territory with a shocked sense of defeat. ¡°We were already weak¡­ and hungry. Sleepless nights tuned into long days of being petrified with fear. It felt as if we were being surrounded, hunted, all hours of every single day,¡± replied Rint the rattled.

    Dahj nodded. In a sick sense, he knew the feeling all too well. However, his species was far more mobile, and at least stood a chance at fighting back. ¡°Feeling trapped¡­ is something I cannot relate to. It must have been awful, little one, to feel like a prisoner in your own home.¡±

    ¡°Yes, bison¡­¡± Rint replied somberly. ¡°But it is in our blood to utilize natural protection, rather than mobility.¡±

    ***

    Brenloru was up before sunrise, pacing the proximity of the cursed area. Grabbing handfuls of the soil from the dead, hardened soil was difficult. The moisture-less ground required multiple scrapes of his dull, leathery fingers just to procure enough to smell. Holding the earth to his nose, he inhaled deeply, scanning the valley before allowing the soil to fall though his fingers. The dirt fell to the ground with a stale crunch.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± Dahj asked with a yawn.

    ¡°This soil is dead, but it is not cursed.¡± Brenloru sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to tell this to the little guy¡¯s face, but the land is abused.¡±

    Dahj looked confused as he scanned the same valley.

    ¡°You should understand, bison.¡± Brenloru glanced at him. ¡°You mentioned harvesting rotations were quite important to you during your time in a position of leadership. ¡®Never stay in the same area for too long or you risk killing the land from which you feed¡¯, is basically what you meant¡­ Take these animals for example. Farming, digging, sleeping, eating, defecating, urinating. Daily, perpetually. In the exact same place, every single day.¡±

    Dahj nodded in agreement. ¡°As with any living thing, the soil has been suffocated.¡± He sighed in relief. So, no curse after all ¨C from the carnivores, at least¡­ Sounds like these guys cursed themselves.

    ¡°It sounds selfish of me, but I am quite glad to hear that,¡± Dahj said, turning to Brenloru.

    ¡°Ha, you were foolish to ever think there was one!¡± Brenloru replied mockingly. ¡°Let¡¯s find the dog and explain to him exactly what is going on. I think I have an idea of how we can help.¡±

    ***

    Dahj and Brenloru met with Rint to explain the situation.

    ¡°To put it bluntly, there is no curse, little one,¡± Brenloru stated. ¡°In fact, you have killed the land yourself!¡±

    Rint let out a small squeak in protest.

    ¡°How important is it to you that we keep you in this exact place? If you are willing, we can relocate you to greener pastures, which I strongly recommend,¡± Dahj suggested.

    ¡°No!¡± Rint cried. ¡°This is our home. We can¡¯t just leave now! Sun exposure, visibility, water availability. It¡¯s all here. It¡¯s paradise for our species.¡±

    ¡°Okay then, we will need to take a different approach. But first you need to understand; soil, although unmoving, is ¡®living¡¯ in a sense as well. When it is not receiving clean air, and experiences excessive foot traffic, while consistently yielding crops ¨C it can become sterile. We need to¡­ start over, if you will,¡± Brenloru explained calmly.

    ¡°What does that mean, what will you do with our home?¡± Rint appeared devastated. The bags under his eyes sagged deeper than in his famished state.

    ¡°We¡¯ll fashion a tiller. Cave-in every tunnel, then rotate the soil using the tiller. Once turned, alfalfa will be planted ¨C one of my favorites, in fact,¡± Brenloru said with a smile. ¡°It is an excellent crop to promote healthy dirt. Your relatives can feed off the quickly growing alfalfa in the meantime, until the land is ready for you to move onto a different crop. It is high in protein and nutrients. Not only will it feed your territory, it will feed you as well.¡±

    Brenloru retrieved a handful of alfalfa seeds from a pouch on his waist and turned them over to the prairie dog. ¡°Inform your party of our plan. Educate them on the importance of caring for dirt and tending your crops. We will take care of the rest.¡±

    By the time Festelda and Reblex had returned with rations, Dahj and Brenloru were already hard at work on their tiller. Gathered sticks that had naturally sharp ends from being snapped in half were further honed to act as prongs.

    ¡°Festelda. Can you braid me dried grasses? About three feet in length,¡± Dahj asked bluntly. He was quite stern when focused on a project.

    ¡°I¡­ uh, yeah sure. I think I can do that,¡± she replied, hastily scanning the area for suitable materials. Slightly taken aback, she was impressed to see Dahj so motivated. His general approach to stressful situations had been with caution or unease. Now he was forcefully banging a sharp rock against the end of a stick. The shape and deadliness of the tool he was crafting intrigued her.

    ¡°Reb, we¡¯ve got a special project. Just for you,¡± Brenloru stated as he chose sturdy, flatter sticks that would make suitable skis.

    ¡°You don¡¯t really want me to dig my hands into those bacteria holes¡­ do you?¡± Reblex asked.

    ¡°No, no. You¡¯re going to take a¡­ blunter approach,¡± Brenloru assured him.

    ***

    Festelda fastened sharpened sticks to a frame on skis using braided grasses. The makeshift farm tool slid across the top of the ground, digging the sticks Dahj had honed into the soil. Brenloru would need to stand on the skis to provide the weight needed to keep the fan of spears submerged in the dirt while being dragged along. The sturdy bison volunteered to pull the weight behind him, though he felt more like an ox during this stage of the project.

    Provided with handfuls of alfalfa seeds, Festelda followed in the wake of the primitive farm tool to scatter new life across the recently turned soil. Even Reblex had a special job, that he was quite excited about. Cheeks red and howling in delight, Reblex stomped as hard as he could on the roof of the prairie dog¡¯s housing, caving in their small tunnels. Some were deeper than others, causing his foot to fall straight through. Falling to his butt sent him into fits of laughter.

    The group stood back and admired their work. The soil had been turned, bringing much darker, wetter earth to the surface. Seeds scattered across the top made an attractive garnish. Small clusters of grey clouds had gathered over their head as they worked, releasing a gentle sprinkle across the fresh plot as they finished their project.

    Dahj let out a hearty laugh as rainwater ran through his beard and dripped to the ground below. Releasing the handles of the tiller, he slapped his hands together to dust them off. Prairie dogs that could muster the strength to leave their dirt-igloos came out to dance and celebrate in the light showers of optimism.

    ¡°Give the alfalfa time to sprout,¡± Brenloru said to Rint. ¡°In the meantime, begin digging your network of tunnels again. This time, perhaps with more planning, yes?¡± he said with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Sleeping in one area. Facilities in the furthest region possible. Food storage on the opposite side.¡±

    ¡°The curse¡­ has been lifted!¡± Rint shrieked. ¡°I cannot describe my appreciation, and hope that I can offer some advice myself!¡± The Guardians turned to him. ¡°Communication is important. Sometimes sentences take too long ¨C you would do well to utilize split-second chirps that only your kind recognizes,¡± he advised.

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing no squeaks to get someone¡¯s attention,¡± Reblex said flatly.

    ¡°How about a quick click?¡± Rint pressed. ¡°Take your tongue and press it to the roof of your mouth, trapping a pocket of air. Then just pull down.¡±

    ¡°Tok! Tok! Thok! Tak! Tok!¡± the Guardians practiced, mocking each other¡¯s facial expressions or initial failures.

    ¡°I like it!¡± Festelda exclaimed.

    ¡°Thank you, Rint, that is solid advice,¡± Brenloru said, beaming.

    ¡°It¡¯s the least I can do,¡± Rint said and clicked his tongue.

    Dahj¡¯s chest welled with pride from the ability of his party to accept individual tasks with the purpose of a common goal. He was no longer afraid of curses.

 Chapter 12: Family of Omnivores

    After spending one final day on the rejuvenated field to monitor the crops and keep watch for predators, signs of sprouts satisfied Brenloru enough to continue their journey. Advised by Rint, they continued southeast towards the place of yellow rocks.

    ¡°You know, I really liked how your tiller turned out, gentlemen,¡± Festelda commented. ¡°I was hoping you could sharpen a few more, much shorter sticks for me. For a project I¡¯m working on.¡±

    Brenloru swung his massive antlers as he looked over his shoulder at her. ¡°Sure, I think we can manage that at camp tonight. What do you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to work on some proximity defense¡­¡± she said dismissively. ¡°Something to disable threats before they get too close.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m intrigued,¡± Brenloru said.

    ¡°I was impressed to see that you at least excel in healing dirt, moose,¡± Reblex teased.

    Brenloru swung his antlers to shoot a nasty glance at the ram. ¡°At least I can hold it together when ¨C¡±

    Dahj was unable to focus on the conversation that followed as they made their way to the closest tree line. It felt as if the Designer¡¯s appendage was humming from within its pouch. He retrieved it for inspection. It was. Turning it over in his hand, he noticed that movement would no longer cause it to crumble in his hand. Cracks were far less noticeable, and it was gaining a healthier, deep green color as opposed to the once pale grey complexion of the tentacle.

    Dahj stopped dead in his tracks, impressed with the results. ¡°Bren¡­ look at this,¡± he said slowly, keeping eye contact on the humming appendage.

    ¡°It¡¯s gaining its strength back,¡± Brenloru said as he joined Dahj in inspecting it, now turning it over in his own hands.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think, because of the interaction with the prairie dogs?¡± Festelda guessed.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly it. The appendage was present for an admirable act in a unique representation of the land. If that doesn¡¯t recharge the Designer, I don¡¯t know what will,¡± Dahj said excitably.

    ¡°So, we¡¯ve checked ¡®valley¡¯ off the list, then?¡± Reblex inquired optimistically. Even the cranky ram was pleased to witness progress so early in the journey.

    Dahj nodded with a smile and delicately returned the writhing appendage to his hip pouch.

    ***

    ¡°You¡¯re doing in on purpose,¡± Brenloru said after dodging another branch released by Reblex

    ¡°Doing what?¡± Reblex replied, suppressing a giggle.

    ¡°Letting the branches go as I approach.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry, would you like me to hold them aside for you as you pass, ma¡¯am?¡±

    Another branch whizzed past Brenloru¡¯s cheek. Its velocity caused needles to be released, scattering the ground.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see if anyone patches you up next time you¡¯re injured, ram,¡± Brenloru said.

    ¡°What, a patch of dried moss?¡± Reblex mumbled.

    The sun still had a few hours left in the sky, but the group¡¯s fatigue had been catching up with them. Reblex had grown irritable from the repetitiveness of the seemingly endless trees they wove through and had taken to releasing his frustration on others. Perhaps their appetite for the journey had been too big for their spirits.

    Along their path throughout the graveyard-like forest of fallen trees and severed branches, the Guardians had gathered an abundance of suitable sticks for Festelda¡¯s project. Utilizing rocks that had shattered into sharpened edges, they honed the ends into pointed tips before turning them over to the crafty raccoon. As she took to assembling her new invention, Dahj and Brenloru retired to a nearby river to reflect on recent events.

    ¡°Tell me more about your time as a moose,¡± Dahj said as he skipped a stone into the river. ¡°What made you this great leader?¡±

    ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t really know,¡± Brenloru replied with a sigh as he stared at the rushing water. ¡°I suppose I learned from my father. He had a way with small herds of cows ¨C something about the reach of his call. As you probably know, moose are solitary animals. We generally carry through life by ourselves. Gathering moose from different regions of a massive forest can be quite difficult, and mating season can be an especially tricky time of year. It is critical that moose find each other during a short window of time, while avoiding the threat of predators to reproduce. He always had the best interest of the species driving him, however.¡±

    ¡°So, you learned to do the same?¡± Dahj asked.

    ¡°Not exactly. My leadership was different,¡± Brenloru replied. ¡°I come from an area much, much further north than you and I originally met. If you think it gets cold where you were raised, you have never experienced the north. One year was particularly bad ¨C it caught us all by surprise. Started earlier in the year than normal, and lasted longer. There was nothing more to eat under the frozen tundra, and it felt as if it was never going to end.¡± Brenloru slid off the rock he was perched upon to approach the river.

    ¡°Originally by myself, I began recruiting others to follow me,¡± Brenloru continued. ¡°It was difficult at first; as it was not yet the time of year to be gathering for reproduction. Our instinct told us to be alone. However, as I traveled, I was only met by starvation ¨C and individuals of my own species freezing to death. I couldn¡¯t stand it any longer.¡±

    ¡°Even if I had to push moose out of the snow with my own antler rack, I finally persuaded them to move. Eventually, the larger the herd I led, the easier it was to convince others to follow. We used every ounce of energy that remained in our bodies to head south until we felt any warmth in the air. Many split off from the ¡®herd¡¯, returning to their nomadic life style. This is when I established my ¡®refuge¡¯ area I mentioned just before my death.¡±

    ¡°Inspirational.¡± Dahj muttered.

    ¡°Heh. I knew you would make fun of it. That¡¯s why I keep these things to myself,¡± Brenloru replied dryly. He retrieved a pebble from the shore and tossed it into the rushing river with a curved pitch.

    ¡°No, truly. Your species was facing extinction in your region, and you acted ¨C plain and simple. Not only that, but you called others seeking a more hospitable environment once you settled there,¡± Dahj said with a smile. Brenloru was more than deserving of the title of ¡®Guardian¡¯ in his eyes.

    ¡°Guys! Come look!¡± Festelda called back from the resting area.

    Reblex rolled his eyes as the two approached. ¡°What is that thing gonna stop anyway? I would just stomp on it.¡±

    The tool sitting on the ground looked like a jaw made of wood pried wide open, with teeth sticking straight up. The wooden spikes crafted for Festelda lined the circumference.

    ¡°It¡¯s a foot snare,¡± Festelda claimed excitedly. ¡°I used naturally elastic vines. They attach to this small pedal in the middle. When stepped on, it will snap shut, forcing the spikes into the encroacher¡¯s ankles! Let me demonstrate.¡± She used a long stick to prod the middle. The trap snapped shut. Teeth alternated between each other, breaking the stick in half where they met instantly.

    ¡°Even if the predator keeps moving with the trap around their ankle, it should draw a noticeable cry from the pain, along with letting plenty of blood,¡± she claimed. ¡°It will help fortify our nighttime defenses.¡±

    ¡°You are quite crafty. I am proud of how quickly you are filling your role as a potential Guardian, Festelda. The Designer will hear about this,¡± Brenloru said. ¡°Just remember, for protection only,¡±

    Festelda responded with an excited nod before patrolling the encampment. To the north, south, east, and west, she placed four of her fresh traps, lightly concealed under fallen leaves and loose sticks. The Guardians slept a little deeper that night, relaxed by peace of mind.

    ***

    The following morning, the group rose with haste and took off in strides, muscles and minds rested. As they neared the end of the forest they had been passing through, Festelda fell behind; distracted by familiar landmarks through the region. Large boulders, patterns of trees, and the grade of a specific hillside made her feel like she knew the area quite well.

    ¡°Wait, please. Slow down,¡± she called from behind the group. ¡°I recognize this place¡­ It all looks so familiar. I¡­ I grew up here. In this very forest.¡±

    ¡°What are you on about? Just looks like a forest,¡± Reblex said between huffs, catching his breath through his nose.

    ¡°This¡­ is the forest where we would play hide and seek. The river you hear to the west is where we used to get water! And¡­ and here¡­ this is where my brother fell out of the tree learning to climb!¡± Festelda recalled confidently, skimming the forest to confirm she wasn¡¯t crazy. ¡°Humor me. Please, just follow. I have to see if any relatives are still in the area.¡± She took a sharp left and headed towards the sun.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ***

    ¡°Here,¡± Brenloru said, stopping to inspect a small pile of feces on the ground. ¡°Raccoon droppings¡­ and footprints of your species leading this way.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes, you¡¯re correct. Thank you, Bren,¡± Festelda said as she examined the area for more clues. Various trees had small scratches from the claws of her species. Patches of pine needle-covered soil were disturbed from the traffic of tiny feet. How could I not recognize it until now¡­ she thought. I promised myself I would never come back here.

    Her loyalty to her family pulled her deeper into the forest. ¡°I¡¯m leaving you three here. I need to do this next part myself,¡± she said, appearing worried.

    ¡°Wha- the¡­ the sun just rose! We¡¯re never going to make any progress on this wild goose chase if we keep stopping for various side projects!¡± Reblex exclaimed. His cheeks flared red.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Reb. I truly am. But I need to visit them. Please, take some more time to rest up. Then no more stops, I promise!¡± she called while sportily backpedaling. Maybe things have changed, she thought. The ache in her stomach disagreed. Hopping over a protruding root, she took off in a jog. Or maybe¡­ they¡¯re not even here anymore.

    ***

    Festelda paused in front of a large boulder wearing a smile. She knew this place well. Approaching it, she was forced to tilt her head back to retain vision of the very top. It towered over her. White specs dotted the granite monolith. Chips and chunks had fallen from the eroding rock due to physical abuse and weather patterns, although it was the same rock. She could never forget this landmark. As her neck became stiff from the strain of fully tilting her head back, memories flooded through her mind. Racing relatives around the base, keeping watch for predators from the top. She even recognized some of her own claw marks ¨C permanently imbedded in the stone when she had attempted to scale it at a younger age. It was one of her favorite places to play as a child.

    ¡°Fez?¡± a flat voice called out behind her. She whipped around and grasped the handle of one of her daggers.

    ¡°Little Fezzy!?¡± the voice rose.

    A male raccoon, only slightly taller than her, had snuck up to investigate the mysterious visitor. He possessed no weapons other than his own claws. Slightly overweight, his demeanor expressed no ¡®stealthy¡¯ qualities. His grey chin was matted, stained a darker tone from dried blood.

    ¡°Demrus,¡± she said, narrowing her eyes on the raccoon, lips pursed. Her grip loosened.

    ¡°You¡¯re back. You¡¯ve changed your mind?¡± the pudgy raccoon inquired.

    ¡°Heh. I was passing thought. Just paying a visit,¡± she replied flatly.

    ¡°Look at you, little sister. All grown up! You look so professional; like a hired assassin!¡± he ran up and wrapped his arms around her. His pudgy belly impeded him from fully wrapping his arms around his sister. Although related, Demrus displayed the typical, darker shades of a raccoon.

    Festelda patted one of her sibling¡¯s shoulders, keeping her other arm at her side.

    ¡°How¡¯s mom and dad. The rest of the family?¡± she said after a brief pause, the rock behind her still on her mind.

    ***

    Festelda and her brother entered the small encampment they had been raised in. Small lean-tos were crafted from mud and sticks, built against the base of various wide-trunked trees, but most shelters rested on large branches, looming above their heads. Raccoons from this year¡¯s litters chased each other around the bases, letting out loud squeals and baring their teeth when caught. Elders watched while fiddling with nuts still trapped in shells with their small hands. One older female looked up and dropped the nut she was trying to crack in her back teeth with a gasp.

    ¡°Fes...telda! Oh, dear, welcome home honey!¡± Her mother rushed over to embrace her. Average height for an aging female of their species, she too carried a little extra weight around her middle. Her color, however, had held quite well. Generally, at her age most of the animal¡¯s fur had greyed. Festelda did her best to not give any credit to her mother¡¯s dietary choices for keeping her looking so young.

    Trying to keep a straight face, a tear welled in Festelda¡¯s left eye as she held her mother for a moment.

    Festelda¡¯s mother forcefully pushed her to arm¡¯s length. ¡°Have you eaten, darlin¡¯?¡± she asked with a smile on her face. ¡°Come, come. The spring berries are excellent this year. They pair with the birds returning for spring quite well.¡±

    Festelda gave her mother a stern look.

    ¡°Oh, well, right. Sorry sweetheart. Just the berries for you. Come, your father should be sitting down with some now,¡± she said, forcing a smile. Canines were exposed under her curled lips. Festelda winced at the sight of the left tooth, which was only half the length of the other. It had probably been broken in an attempt to bite through bones.

    She followed her mother through the camp, subtly scanning the living area with scrutiny. Her stomach cramped again. Bodies of birds littered the base of a tree, lazily pushed into a small pile while others remained in the very spot they had been dined on. Snake skins had been peeled off and disposed of on the forest floor. Bones of small rodents were scattered the dirt. She had to take awkward strides forward to avoid stepping on a corpse as her mother simply kicked others to the side.

    I can see why they¡¯ve gained so much weight, she thought with clenched teeth. Don¡¯t have to go nowhere, don¡¯t have to do nothin¡¯. Just wait for dinner to wander into camp.

    The putrid smell of the camp made her mouth water. She wanted to spit. It reminded her of an above-ground graveyard. Perhaps an area in the forest where a species would dump their dead after a vicious assault from multiple predators. These were not suitable living conditions for the young.

    To grow up and think this is okay¡­ I just want to wrangle them up. Take them to the Homestead and teach them it¡¯s perfectly sustainable to live off the land, she thought before spitting to her side. The bubbly saliva landed on the skull of a rat. It splashed directly on its forehead before slowly dripping through the empty eye sockets. Great. And now I¡¯m cursed for spitting on the dead.

    ¡°Gave up on cleaning, no?¡± Festelda asked.

    ¡°Oh Fez, don¡¯t mind those. The winter snow has recently melted, revealing them all!¡± her mother laughed nervously. ¡°It¡¯s on the to-do list.¡±

    Together they approached a simple table, crafted from a fallen log in its exact resting place. Its bottom half had been burrowed out to form a long, shallow arch to allow diners to sit at the edge, using rocks as chairs. Slowly decomposing, it offered not only a place for raccoons to dine, but acted as a meal itself for new growth such as mosses and ferns attached to its sides.

    Currently occupied by an elder raccoon, whom was too involved with the meal before him to acknowledge Festelda¡¯s presence. He was considerably more obese than the other inhabitants, and the once-black hair around his mouth and eyes had turned a faded grey. As he looked up at the pair in front of him, he loudly removed a small bird bone he had been sucking clean from his mouth. He tossed the bone ¨C ridden of everything but tendons ¨C on the ground behind him while wetly spitting out a few small feathers.

    ¡°Oh¡­ Festelda, dear,¡± he said in a raspy voice, laboring heavily to stand from his rock seat. The lids of his eyes hung wearily. ¡°Come, let me look at you. You¡¯re beautiful, darling¡­¡±

    ¡°Hey, dad.¡± Festelda replied with the same flatness as the greeting for her mother.

    ¡°What changed your mind, sweetie?¡± her mother said in the kindest tone she could muster. ¡°Spring is here, and the new generation has arrived. They¡¯re such cute cubs, you¡¯re really going to like them. With your father¡¯s age catching up with him, we¡¯re really going to need a lot of help showing them the land. You know, no one else can get berries from as high as you can!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not back,¡± Festelda said stubbornly. ¡°Just stopping by to check in. See if anything has changed. Clearly it hasn¡¯t. In fact, I think it¡¯s gotten worse.¡± Her temper was rising. She wanted to leave immediately. The sight of her family consuming raw flesh sickened her.

    Younger raccoons poked their heads out from small nests constructed at the ends of branches where they met the tree. Built from sticks and old tufts of fallen fur, they were dome-shaped with a small entrance hole. Generally, only the young were kept here, allowing extra defense from predators in their early life. After inspecting the disturbance below, the young would toss remnants of their finished meal to the forest floor. Small bones, feathers, or inedible skins were thrown from the small wood holes, followed by squeals to demand additional raw sustenance.

    ¡°How was your winter, dear? Did you head south?¡± her father asked as he wiped blood from his face using the back of his hand.

    ¡°Winter! Dad, I¡¯ve been gone for years,¡± she replied.

    Her father¡¯s eyes widened, surprised by the news. ¡°Years? No, no. I remember. You wanted to head south to study flora¡­ You¡¯ve always loved plants, you know,¡± he replied through slightly watering eyes.

    ¡°Your aging mind misleads you, dad¡­¡± Festelda replied sharply. ¡°I left quite some time ago based off of the decisions of the camp regarding your diets.¡±

    The old raccoon¡¯s stomach rolled as he leaned back on the rock he had been perched on, dumbfounded by the news he was receiving.

    ¡°You know, Fes,¡± her father said, changing the subject. ¡°It really would be much wiser for you to return home. No trees across the land grow taller and fuller than they do here. Important for protection against the rising threat of the predators¡­¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± she cut him off with a forced laugh. ¡°You¡¯re one to talk.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not predators, Fes. Really¡­¡± her father replied, stuttering. ¡°More of¡­ scavengers. Just like we have always been. We do not go out hunting in a concerted effort to kill. However, if something should land in, or wander into our camp¡­¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t justify taking something¡¯s life for a meal,¡± Festelda replied flatly.

    Demrus caught up and plopped down on a stump at the table next to his father before immediately digging into a freshly caught rat. They had been easy to find, as they were attracted to leftovers and trash littering the camp. He pulled back his lip and bit into the rat''s neck, still alive. The rat released one final loud shriek as a spurt of blood splattered on the table in front of him.

    Festelda shuttered and removed herself from the table.

    ¡°Demrus¡­ please!¡± his mother said as she got up to chase Festelda.

    ¡°What?¡± he said, rolling his eyes. ¡°She''s the one that left in the first place¡­¡±

    ¡°I can''t be here,¡± Festelda said calmly, pausing again near the massive boulder. ¡°You have all made terrible decisions.¡±

    ¡°Fez, sweetheart,¡± her mother pleaded. ¡°You have to understand. This was never a decision. We have been¡­ altered. As if driven by an unknown force with an insatiable taste for meat. I''ve been doing my best, you know.¡±

    Festelda scoffed and shook her head. ¡°Still? More excuses. Nothing has changed¡­ You can¡¯t keep blaming the past on choices you continue to make, mother.¡±

    ¡°I''m serious!¡± she pleaded. ¡°I only eat berries and leaves in the morning. Limit meat to one meal a day. But, it''s hard, you know¡­ I watch your brother, your father, the rest of the camp consuming delicious flesh, and I just can''t help myself! You know we¡¯re not carnivores. We¡¯re omnivores.¡±

    ¡°Even the children! I saw them¡­ tossing bones and skins from their nests. You¡¯re blaming nature, when it¡¯s the fault of their nurturing¡­ They see what you consume, then they adopt the same diet! This can only change if the new generation is to ¨C¡±

    ¡°Festelda!¡± a pair of cubs cried out from behind her, running up excitedly. ¡°Is this aunty Festelda we¡¯ve heard about? Let''s play tag around the rock!¡± they shouted, grabbing her arm as they jumped up and down.

    ¡°It''s called willpower, mother,¡± Festelda said, shoulders drooped, looking at the young cubs. ¡°Nice to meet you, little ones. Tag! You''re it!¡± she poked one of the cubs in the arm. They both took off running in circles around the boulder.

    ¡°You know why I can''t stay here,¡± she said softly to her mother. ¡°I won''t witness this descent into savagery.¡±

    Tears welled in her mother''s eyes. She didn¡¯t reply as Festelda gave her a final hug and turned to head back into the forest.

 Chapter 13: The Land of Yellow Rocks

    Festelda returned to her party wearing a bleak expression.

    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Reblex, sounding genuinely concerned for once.

    ¡°The designer of carnivores has a strong influence over the dietary practices of my gaze,¡± she said. ¡°I will not bear witness to it. I am ashamed, but I understand. It is best that I remove my presence from them, before I am persuaded as well.¡±

    ¡°How long ago?¡± Dahj asked, resting his hand on the bludgeon at his side.

    ¡°Only a few years. We were behind the curve of omnivores. We thought retreating to a deeper part of the forest would keep us honest. My father led the expedition but was quickly burdened and became too weak to lead; overwhelmed with distractions based on his new appetite. It was as if he was going insane!¡± Festelda said, pacing. ¡°It plagued his mind like a disease. First, he lost his sense of direction. Weeks into the journey, it seemed he no longer quite knew what he was looking for. Then, his motivation plummeted.¡±

    Festelda turned to Dahj, who was nervously keeping watch for vile creatures merely a fraction of his own size. ¡°And put that away, Dahj! You¡¯re not going to attack them and they¡¯re not going to attack you. These are raccoons we¡¯re talking about,¡± she scolded.

    Dahj removed his hand from the hilt, embarrassed. The comment didn¡¯t stop him from scanning the branches above for those vicious little buggers, though.

    ¡°Anyway¡­¡± She approached a tree to inspect scratch marks dug into the cragged bark. ¡°Oh yeah, my idiot dad¡­ The thought of consuming flesh and blood had debilitated him. All of his focus had been turned to seeking warm meat to consume. Our gaze could no longer rely on him to be a trustworthy leader, so I took over. I finished leading the trek here. When we arrived, I assigned individuals different tasks in starting a new life. Then winter came¡­ berries had died. Fresh leaves had fallen. Rats and birds were attracted to our camp for shelter.¡±

    ¡°My brother became so hungry that he was the first to kill another living creature. I caught him gobbling down a bird behind that massive rock. I reprimanded him, but promised that I would keep it a secret. He looked so pathetic; blood and feathers covering his face. Then the rest of the camp discovered his sinful diet and followed suit. From there they never turned back.¡± She looked back to the boulder that marked home. Finding the landmark ironic, she had always thought her willpower to stay at her family¡¯s side would be as strong and immovable as that very boulder.

    Dahj let out a heavy sigh. ¡°Many believe it is the mind that controls the body. Sometimes it can be the belly calling the shots.¡±

    Festelda motioned for them to move on. The stench of the rotting flesh wafting through the forest was still making her nauseous.

    ***

    The group resumed their journey silently. The recent event caused Dahj to reflect on his herd again. During his time as a leader, all bison ¨C at least that he knew of ¨C had been strict herbivores. He must have fallen long before the omnivorous transition in many species had taken effect, but was confident his own would never have been persuaded to consume flesh. Their bodies were simply not built that way. All bison had a row of straight, flat incisors in the front, used for severing grass. His species lacked canines for sinking into flesh. In the back, wide, short molars were used for grinding. Additionally, their stomachs were simply not built for digesting meat.

    Besides, Dahj thought with a scoff, it would be quite comical to watch a bison attempt to chase down prey. What would they do? Beat them up with their hooves? Mulling over these thoughts made Dahj realize how long it had been since he had even seen a bison. He feared they had already gone extinct. The weakest animal on the food chain is always culled first, and without a suitable reproduction rate, their numbers would dwindle faster than they could grow.

    Dahj''s thoughts were interrupted by another humming coming from the pouch tied to his waist. It was the appendage again, but this time more actively than the last. He stopped mid stride to inspect it, gaining the attention of the others.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Brenloru said quickly. ¡°How does it look?¡±

    Dahj pulled the tentacle from its pouch. It had doubled in size. Both sides limply hung from his hand from the increase in length. It shimmered in the light.

    This time, the colors from within swirled. Browns, light greens and grays all intermingling and moving as one. The skin of the appendage looked healthier as well. Almost every crack had faded, and only a few pieces of debris had fallen since retrieving it from the pouch.

    ¡°Yikes. It''s disgusting,¡± Festelda said, cringing away from it. ¡°Why do we have to carry that thing around, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Too bad you feel that way. We have you to thank,¡± Dahj said. ¡°We just checked ¡®forest¡¯ off the list!¡±

    ¡°Because¡­ because of the interaction with my family?¡± she said, confused. ¡°But that wasn¡¯t exactly the happiest event¡­¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Brenloru said. ¡°But perhaps it doesn¡¯t necessarily need to be a ¡®happy¡¯ event. What you did was noble, nonetheless. It still responded.¡±

    ***

    Dahj claimed that they would ford one final river before finding a resting area, despite protest from Reblex. Dahj, too, was secretly becoming frustrated with how long this journey was taking. Although they had made multiple side trips and stops, he expected the landscape to be changing by now. Promise of a truly unique, wondrous area taunted him as he insisted on pressing forward. Despite the trip being mainly for the Designer''s benefit, Dahj was eager to decide if this place was as incredible as the Designer had made it sound, or if promises of grandeur was merely a carrot on a stick to fuel to fulfil untold motives.

    After crossing the river, discouragement finally caught up with Dahj. The land surrounding them was quite bland. Most of the grass was dead; unable to grow on the dusty, inhospitable landscape. The pale brown and yellow colors were not easy on the eyes, and he began to daydream of richer meadows.

    ¡°Reb, please,¡± Dahj said though panting. ¡°Scale that fjord and tell us what you can see from there. It should be a good vantage point.¡±

    ¡°Are you kiddin¡¯ me dude, I''m exhausted,¡± Reblex whined as he turned towards the cliff face Dahj was referencing. The lazy bison made it sound so easy.

    ¡°Reblex. Your species is quite skilled at climbing. Just¡­ do it. Find us a good resting area,¡± Brenloru said, hands placed firmly on his hips as he pushed Reblex verbally.

    ¡°Fine¡­ But I might get comfortable up there!¡± Reblex laughed, then took off into a jog.

    Sliced like a one hundred-tier cake, the cliff face displayed layers of color. Generations of rock that had buried one another each told different stores of exposure, weather, or disasters. Reblex ascended the smooth, flat, yellow rock platforms. Slick and narrow, they provided unsure footing. However, they made for an excellent ramp that quickly rose towards an excellent vantage point.

    Matching the color of the dull landscape just outside the gorge, many easily shifted and slid under his weight. New-growth pine trees that had been foolish enough to grow amongst the constantly-shifting terrain littered the path upwards, providing support for a third limb. Needed or not, Reblex would grab onto each he passed for stability. Using the force of his legs with the pull of his left arm, he effortlessly hopped from rock to rock to hike with haste. His party watched from below with nervous anticipation.

    As close to the edge as he was willing to be, Reblex hopped to a flat rock that was teetering between two others. It had seemingly shattered off the side wall from above. Falling here who-knows how long ago, the rock had slid to this point, finding its temporary resting place. Without hesitation, he hopped to the middle-right side of the unstable platform. It tipped.

    Festelda let out a cry as the tan, level stone was easily displaced and leaned towards the sheer cliff. Reblex instantly leaned left and firmly grabbed a young pine tree. The lifeline was easily uprooted from the dry, fragile soil under the weight of his desperate pull.

    Tree in hand, Reblex swung to his right, back turned to the cliff. Instinctually, he pushed to his right, landing hard on his shoulder as the platform and rubble cascaded off the cliff face. Sharp cracks rang through the air as the boulders shattered and splintered against the solid ground below.

    ¡°Oh my land! Are you okay Reb?!¡± Festelda shrieked from below. Brenloru held her back from running towards the cliff face.

    ¡°Yeah! I¡¯m good, just¡­ took a little spill!¡± Reblex called back as he gained his composure. His legs shook violently from adrenaline as he dusted himself off. Luckily, the only physical damage was a skinned palm and elbow, aside from the poor tree.

    He glanced around the desolate land. The feat of the trees growing out of the very sides of the cliff face was astounding. Guess this is what erosion can do to a place, he thought.

    Turning to the steep grade above discouraged him from continuing. Then something to his right caught his eye. ¡°Woah,¡± he said. His voice projected from the gorge walls towards the Guardians.

    ¡°What is it? Predators?¡± Festelda nervously shouted up at him.

    ¡°I¡­ I have no idea,¡± he replied. At this angle, he was able to make out more of the land just on the other side of the gorge. Beyond the entrance, geographical features of unique nature were easily spot-able due to a beacon of rising steam. ¡°I''ve never seen anything like it! I think it''s a tiered waterfall made of ice!¡±

    ¡°At this time of year? The kid is crazy,¡± Brenloru said only loud enough for the two next to him to hear.

    ***

    Reblex descended from the cliff face with calculated hops. Only slipping a couple times when bringing his weight down too quickly on the smooth faces of various rocks, he met the group near the mouth of the fjord. They proceeded through the towering rock-wall entrance before taking an easy right towards the ice waterfall, their stamina renewed by curiosity.

    The landscape had changed rapidly. Grasses were no longer so scarce and boasted a healthier color of green. Short trees were scattered through the landscape, full of seasonal leaves. Even the surrounding mountains seemed to be more hospitable, painted in greens and browns. There must have been a brilliant groundskeeper living here, whether it be animal or element, to maintain such pristine presentation.

    Approaching the ice waterfall revealed that it was quite the opposite to Reblex¡¯s claims. Even during a mid-spring day, light wisps of steam rose from the trickling water running down the surface of the multi-tiered structure.

    ¡°What¡­ is it?¡± Reblex asked in disbelief.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a spring. That¡¯s for sure,¡± Festelda replied, inspecting the buildup of concentrated minerals.

    Crafted by abrasive elements, mineral-rich boiling water escaped through the top of the spring before cascading down multiple levels that shone a vibrant white in the sunlight. ¡°The color of the stone¡­ the temperature of the water, that I cannot explain. The height of it is impressive ¨C as if it is climbing right out of the earth¡¯s crust¡­ perhaps it¡¯s water from- Don¡¯t touch it!¡± she shouted moments before Reblex stuck his finger into the boiling water.

    Reblex jerked his outstretched finger back. ¡°It smells gross¡­¡±

    ¡°I think¡­ we¡¯re here,¡± Brenloru said, head following the pattern of the flowing water from limestone tier to limestone tier. ¡°The Designer told us this place is the surface of a super volcano. Well, this is simply one of the vents. This water clearly has a high concentration of minerals. Smell that? Scents from the center of the earth.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I thought that was just Reblex,¡± Festelda teased.

    ¡°Quick, the tentacle,¡± Brenloru said, snapping his attention away from the geographical wonder to Dahj¡¯s hip pouch.

    Dahj held out his arm, palm open, awkwardly presenting the appendage to the hot spring. The group waited, expecting it to respond. Nothing happened. The tentacle laid deflated in the palm of his hand. Shades of browns, greens, and greys with the visual properties of gasses lazily swirled from within.

    ¡°What. This isn¡¯t cool enough for you!?¡± Reblex shouted at the lifeless arm.

    Dahj pulled it away from Reblex¡¯s face and returned it to the pouch, but only after he considered lurching the limp appendage at the ram to scare him off. He knew Reblex would flinch, too. The ram was all talk.

    ¡°Perhaps because we haven¡¯t done anything ¡®noble¡¯ enough for it here?¡± Festelda guessed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it works like that,¡± Brenloru stated. ¡°The arm only reacts to unique places of the land that strongly represent it. Perhaps this¡­ vent would closer represent the element of Aquatic. Maybe even Reclamation. Or perhaps, this place is possibly too unique. Something like valleys, or forests are far more common and strongly represent the element of Land.

    ¡°Looks like the land to me¡­ Do something!¡± Reblex shouted at Dahj¡¯s hip pouch.

    Dahj scowled at the ram. ¡°At least we know we¡¯re in the right place. We still have canyon, plateau, and Brenloru¡¯s Cave. I wouldn¡¯t mind exploring a little more of the area while we¡¯re here, too. I¡¯d like to know how the fauna of such an area is responding to the carnivore designer¡¯s physical augmentations.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep to our path heading south east. It will be easier to find our way back. I suspect there will be additional places of interest as we move in,¡± Brenloru suggested.

    ***

    The landscape contrasted beautiful compared to the region slightly further north ¨C the ground here was much healthier. Dotted in spring flowers, fields of short grasses reached towards the horizon, recovering from the blanket of snow that had recently been pulled away by spring¡¯s warmth. Jagged, ice-capped mountain ranges acted as a backdrop for the fields, as if setting the stage for ¡®Nature: The Play¡¯. Ice cold rivers, cutting through the land as they led to brilliant blue lakes quenched the Guardian¡¯s thirst after a seemingly endless journey.

    Dahj admired his reflection in an arm of the river where the water had slowed down to nearly a stop when a brown mass caught his eye in the distance. It was not specifically ¡®his¡¯ herd, but he was positive that it was a herd of bison. He attempted to suppress his optimism to reasonable expectations, but something was pulling at his heartstrings.

    The sight of the herd in the distance reminded him of plains back home, where he would return after long scouting sessions or standing watch. He had adjusted well to being alone or accompanied by a small group of various species, but he knew in his soul; he was a herd animal. His spirit had suffered greatly since being removed from this preferable lifestyle.

    ¡°It may be time for yet another detour,¡± Dahj said nervously. He expected Reblex to be upset by the news of yet another time-wasting side trip.

    Surprisingly, Reblex already had his eyes on the herd as well. ¡°Their numbers are healthy. I see many heads of red dogs in tow. These are good signs,¡± he said lowly to Dahj.

    ¡°I''m confident they know the land well,¡± Dahj stated. ¡°Judging by the age gaps, there must be multiple generations making up that herd. I''m sure they can point us in the right direction.¡±

    ¡°Bison can be skittish. We don''t want to start a stampede,¡± Brenloru cautioned. ¡°The three of us will settle here. We are close to food and water. You will approach them alone, Dahj. Just remember, your new posture may pose a threat.¡±

    ¡°At least he still smells like one!¡± said Reblex, scrunching his face and waving his hand in front of his own nose.

    ***

    Dahj walked in a straight line away from his group towards the foreign herd. Wet grasses brushed his ankles, some reaching almost to his knees. Keeping an unwavering stare on the herd, his eyes scanned back and forth to assess their reaction to his presence. Various bulls lifted their heads as he closed to one hundred yards away. Their bulging, deep brown eyes met with Dahj¡¯s, evaluating the stranger. Cows slowly retreated in the opposite direction, abandoning their meals. Red dogs ignored Dahj entirely and followed the utters they had been sucking on.

    At fifty yards tails became rigid, signifying guard. Many of the bison huffed loudly and scraped at loose soil with their hooves. Dahj paused to lift his hands to show he was not a threat. He hoped they would catch his scent or recognize his facial features. At a slow walk, reaching twenty-five yards, he was relieved that he hadn¡¯t been charged yet.

    Dahj identified what appeared to be the eldest of the group and made eye contact. The bull¡¯s hair was patchy from shedding his winter coat, and greyed from age. Unlike the younger males, the elder did not seem threatened by Dahj''s presence. He could detect something in Dahj the others did not recognize.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Dahj said plainly. ¡°I''m requesting a moment of your time, for guidance.¡±

    The valley fell silent. Every bison, save the red dogs, had paused to acknowledge Dahj. Only the sound of the wind passing through the tall grass, and the crickets calling to each other were audible.

    ¡°What¡­ happened to you, bison? Where have you migrated from?¡± the elder asked. Surprisingly, he recognized Dahj as one of his own species, but knew he had come from somewhere foreign.

    Dahj simply replied: ¡°North.¡±

    ¡°North, huh?¡± the elder replied with a scoff. ¡°There are not many of us left up north. You have made quite a journey to be here, bull. I can¡¯t say I¡¯ve known many bison to travel south in the spring. What brings you here?¡±

    ¡°There''s still a few of us,¡± Dahj said without much confidence, not truly knowing the accuracy of his statement. ¡°Consider me a tourist. I have heard incredible tales of this land, guess I just needed to see it for myself.¡±

    ¡°Come, let us move away from the herd, you''re making them nervous!¡± The old bull trudged past him with a hearty, wheezing laugh.

    Dahj followed. The herd stayed behind, though a few of the younger bulls kept an eye on the pair as their tails fell limp. Meeting the height of the elder¡¯s hunch, it was hard to maintain a conversation with him. Dahj slouched his posture a little further to look into the old bull¡¯s protruding left eye. Red and swollen, it looked as if it was trying to escape. It turned with a stutter to make contact with Dahj¡¯s, causing the bull to have difficulty walking a straight line.

    ¡°I know every bison in this region, young one,¡± said the elder as he lazily trudged through grass until they were out of earshot. ¡°I have never seen anyone like you, though. You are truly unique.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Which is why I need your guidance to assist me in finding my herd. I¡¯m not exactly sure why I am changing,¡± Dahj lied, as to avoid further questioning. He simply didn¡¯t have time to explain his baffling timeline to a stranger.

    ¡°What is your herd called?¡± the elder groaned. ¡°Tuk¡¯luns? I know them to be residents of the north.¡±

    ¡°Kleecloks. Do you know of their whereabouts?¡± Dahj pressed.

    The elder stopped. The expression on his face turned to grim shock, as if he had seen a ghost. ¡°The¡­ Kleecloks haven¡¯t roamed these fields in¡­ many, many generations, young one,¡± he stammered. ¡°In fact, they are so far removed that even I have merely heard of them in tales from my elders.¡±

    Dahj¡¯s shoulders slumped, but he was able to embrace the news; he almost expected it.

    ¡°Where did you say you are from?¡± The elder said, nervously backing away. His hind-right leg tripped over a stout rock, causing him to stumble. His defensive nature drew attention from the bulls that had kept their bulging eyes on him from a distance.

    ¡°Please, any information you have of their history would be greatly appreciated,¡± Dahj said quickly, holding up his arms again to calm the bull.

    The elder took a deep breath and regained his balance. His eyes reddened as they darted back and forth in sockets that were too small, attempting to construct a timeline. ¡°Their bloodline suffered severely a long time ago,¡± he said. His slobber-soaked chin-beard quivered. ¡°Without a leader, their herd became too political. Too many heads tried to lead, not enough followed.¡±

    ¡°I believe that herd turned into at least three. None were coordinated or strong enough to defend themselves from predators, or survive winters. Their numbers dwindled, and they died. Simple as that. If I¡¯m not mistaken, a few in my herd have small traces of the Kleeclok bloodline from the north. But it is very diluted¡­ That¡¯s all I know, young one.¡± He inspected Dahj¡¯s exposed palms.

    ¡°Thank you. It puts my mind at ease,¡± replied Dahj somberly. Approaching the bull, he patted his prominent hump to calm him. Dahj didn¡¯t enjoy doing this; shaking someone else¡¯s world in order to reconstruct his own. These kinds of details can be quite jarring to such a simple species.

    The elder looked Dahj up and down with a hint of pity. If his instinct was correct, it would have been quite a remarkable event. He was meeting someone far older than himself. ¡°Good luck with¡­ whatever you are looking for ¨C young one?¡± he awkwardly stated as a question.

    ¡°You know this land well, bull. My group and I are seeking unique geographical landmarks. Can you point me in the right direction?¡± Dahj asked optimistically.

    ¡°Heh. I mean, I¡¯m no tour guide,¡± the bull scoffed. ¡°What exactly do you want to see?¡±

    ¡°I need to find a canyon, and a plateau. I will try to add anything else you can recommend to my itinerary,¡± Dahj replied.

    The elder let snorted. ¡°What is this, summer vacation?¡± he said, now dumbfounded. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know who you are, why in the land¡¯s name you look like that, or what you are searching for¡­¡± He noticed the expression on Dahj¡¯s face and felt pity again. The bull let out a heavy sigh. ¡°But if it is a canyon you seek, just keep heading southeast, on the same path you were on. Just turn yourself a little more east. You will find the grandest canyon this earth knows. You can¡¯t miss it.¡±

    The bull slowly turned to orient his massive body in the direction he was referencing. ¡°A plateau should be quite easy. This land has been shifted and shaped numerous times throughout history. It is beautifully unique. On your path, you will encounter water that sprays from the ground, mud that boils, and ponds with combinations of colors you have never witnessed in nature. Enjoy the sights, but keep a safe distance. If you¡¯re not careful, you could end your bloodline for good, Kleeclok.¡±

    Dahj nodded in appreciation. He wished the elder and his kin luck, then turned to make his way back to the Guardians.

    ***

    ¡°You didn¡¯t give him too much information, did you?¡± Brenloru asked from over Dahj¡¯s shoulder after rejoining the Guardians.

    ¡°He was kind. Knew of my herd. Gave us direction to sites suitable for our journey. They are not a threat,¡± Dahj replied, watching the herd of bison as they moved as one towards the sunset.

    ¡°The teeth,¡± Brenloru pressed. ¡°Did you happen to get a look at his teeth?¡±

    ¡°Wide and flat, like mine. They have not been influenced by her design¡­ yet,¡± Dahj replied sternly. ¡°We will keep moving south east at the break of dawn. I want to cover as much ground as possible.¡±

    ¡°Did he have any information on your past, Dahj? Festelda inquired.

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure. It all sounded like lore. I will digest it at my discretion. The main take-away was that it was a very, very long time ago.¡±

    Water refracted off the surface of the crystal blue river, distracting Dahj. Staring into it again, he realized he was looking at himself ¨C his face. He hated it. He realized how difficult it was to approach a herd of bison. Normal bison. His own species! They looked how the species should. Not like this, the face in the river. He wanted to hit it so the image would leave his mind. He knew it wouldn¡¯t change his physical appearance, but he wanted it gone.

    Dahj knelt, eyes locked with his own. He clenched his teeth and smacked the surface of the still water. Waves rippled across the river, disrupting the image briefly. Brenloru turned to see what the commotion of the splash was. It didn¡¯t work. The image of the face re-stabilized and continued to mock him. Teeth still clenched, Dahj slapped the face again. Water splashed off his open-palmed hand, projecting it further across the river.

    This time, Dahj laughed. The muscles in his face relaxed, then twisted into an exhausted smile. There was no way to change this, he realized. This is just how is now; different. No matter how he had lived his life, his bloodline was hanging on by a thread anyway. He was spiteful only of the fact that he hadn¡¯t been granted more time to spend with them.

    The Guardians watched defensively as Dahj climbed to his feet. Once standing, he removed all the tools, clothing, and the belt he wore, gaze still locked on his reflection. He jumped. The frigid water paralyzed him. It numbed his muscles and emotions. He couldn¡¯t breathe. He welcomed it; it silenced his negative thoughts for a mere moment. Releasing all the air in his lungs, he was able to stay submerged for long enough to achieve some peace within himself.

    Water saturated his dreaded locks. The icy bath fought through his dirt-fortified curls as he scrubbed patches with his dirty fingernails, still submerged. It felt freeing. He probably lost pounds of soil and needles with a refreshing rinse and a good scratch. The crystal river streaked with brown as he cleansed his mind and skin alike.

    Revitalized, Dahj surfaced in a fit of laughter. Brenloru looked terribly concerned as he was preparing to jump in after him. Traits of various plants ran through the moose¡¯s mind as he attempted to deduce which was the best for asphyxiation. Festelda and Reblex, however, were already dropping gear on the bank to join him. Festelda pierced the transparent surface of the water with a shrieking laugh. It had been some time since any of them truly swam. Trout and other small, brown fish scattered in the commotion.

    Unable to endure the chill any longer, Festelda climbed to Reblex¡¯s shoulders. He walked her over in a game of chicken to wrestle Dahj¡¯s hands. Brenloru had waded to his waist, removing spring pollen his stubborn, patchy coat had collected. The group frolicked for nearly an hour as the sun moved west.

    ***

    Dahj removed himself from the river and shook his body vigorously. He looked down at his new frame again. An augmented vessel to carry his mind through life. It felt cold¡­ exposed. ¡°What do you still have in that pouch of yours, Fes?¡± he said, feeling famished.

    ¡°Plenty of stuff!¡± she replied after shaking her head horizontally to remove water trapped in her left ear. ¡°Nuts, fungus, berries¡­¡±

    Dahj helped himself to the satchel after plopping down next to it. His legs wouldn¡¯t carry him any further to a more appropriate resting place.

    ¡°Feeling better?¡± Brenloru inquired after approaching Dahj to rest his hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s just hard, you know,¡± Dahj replied, fixated on the sun set. Reds and oranges streaked across the sky, making him feel warmer while the temperature of the valley steadily dropped. ¡°Seeing a herd brings back lots of memories. Memories of responsibilities. You guys have been great and all, and I know we¡¯re doing a noble thing¡­ But bison are herd animals, after all.¡±

    ¡°Once this land is purged of the threat of the carnivorous appetite, herds of many species will be free to roam again, Dahj.¡± Brenloru promised.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right, old man.¡± Dahj replied with a faint smile as he chewed on various nuts and fungus Festelda¡¯s pouch had provided.

    The group wanted to move no further for the day. They settled in a field just slightly further from the river, near a tree line for protection. The Guardians slept as the sun was still setting with the hope of being rested in the morning.

    ***

    Dahj felt as though he had only been asleep for an hour before being ripped awake in a heavy pant. Incredibly sensitive to the last light of dusk, he looked down at the ground that was wavering below him, as if made of liquid. His feet felt grounded, but his body swayed slightly as he stood. Mountains in the distance shifted, overlapping each other before snapping back into place. Textures were enhanced and vibrant. Surfaces would begin to crawl slightly if he stared at them for too long.

    The shifting landscape was making him nauseous. He felt as if his meal from earlier in the evening had climbed back into his throat, attempting to escape. With the feeling that he was about to vomit, Dahj walked towards a nearby tree line to take his focus off the distance.

    He entered the small forest, looking for a suitable place to lose his dinner. Straining his neck, he looked up at the very top of the trees surrounding him. They appeared to be leaning over him, looming from above, like a giant looking down at an ant underfoot. The sharp bark of the trees that scrutinized him expanded and contracted as he moved. He could see their breaths. They had a judgmental presence, as if he was on trial by his elders for past crimes. As he stared at the trees, he wondered what they thought of him.

    Suddenly Dahj was very aware of his own heartbeat, which pulsed through his legs, sending tiny ripples across the surface of the soil he stood on with each beat. Turning back to where he had left his group, he found a single bull bison, accompanied by three first-year red dogs in place of the sleeping Guardians. The bull shook his head at the red dogs, huffing loudly as they ran around him in circles, laughing and taunting.

    ¡°Do it again! Do it again!¡± they cheered at him.

    The bull shifted his weight forward to lift both of his hind legs, releasing a powerful kick.

    The three red dogs giggled and mimicked the action.

    Dahj gulped, realizing he was watching himself. Watching a memory. The memory that had been consistently haunting his mind for some time.

    He watched the event with a grin on his face. It felt so real, so lucid. It was becoming difficult to separate the past from the present in his mind. Part of him knew he was experiencing a hallucination, but wished the last few months had been the hallucination ¨C not what he was currently witnessing.

    Dahj exited the tree line to approach the group from his memory. Moonlight poured over him as he stepped from the shadows into the field, gaining the attention of one of the red dogs. She whipped around, staring at him briefly before whimpering and retreating around the bull. The bull acknowledged his presence defensively as well, motioning for the red dogs to run as he turned on Dahj, tail rigid and head dropped. Dahj froze in place.

    ¡°Is this real after all? How do they know I¡¯m here?¡± he muttered.

    As the past version of himself huffed at him and shook its head, silhouettes of two wolves passed right through Dahj, prowling towards his memory. Shoulder blades exposed, teeth bared, the wolves prepared to attack. Dahj stood completely still as he realized; this is it¡­ this is how I fell. A door in his memory had finally opened, exposing why this moment was so significant.

    Both wolves moved to attack. His past-self attempted to retreat. After dodging a leap from one of the wolves, he was unsuccessful for the second. Something was holding him in place. His ankle was snared, preventing movement. The same legs that he had just witnessed being kicked into the air!

    Dahj quickly moved closer to the silhouettes to see what was thwarting his past-self from escaping the predators. A large, pale tentacle reached through the surface of the earth, seemingly sprouting from the soil like the grasses surrounding it. Wrapped around Dahj¡¯s ankle, it attempted to pull him into the soil as the wolves attacked. The bull reared his head and kicked his only free hind leg to fight off the wolves, but they were far more mobile. Stimulated by the moon¡¯s glow, the predators quickly moved to their debilitated prey¡¯s sides and neck. Dahj¡¯s memory roared out in agony as the wolves thrashed at his neck and stomach, spattering the grasses red with his blood.

    Dahj watched his own eyes roll to the top of its head as the vision¡¯s voice gurgled, sputtered, and finally fell silent. The bull laid on the ground, lifeless. The wolves turned back to the tree line; job finished. He gazed at his own dead body bathed in moonlight and blood, as the tentacle that had ensnared his ankle recoiled into the soil.

 Chapter 14: Highest Plateaus to Deepest Canyons

    Festelda shook Dahj violently while screaming at the side of his head to wake him. He had slept on his side that night, in the exact place he witnessed himself die.

    Tok. ¡°Dahj. Dahj!¡± Thok. ¡°DAHJ!¡± Festelda cried. Clicking her tongue like the Prairie dog had taught them, she tried anything to rouse the beast ten times the size of herself.

    Dahj groaned and sat up in the morning sun, holding his forehead. It continued to swirl with the memory of the previous night. The vision of his own lifeless eyes was burned into his brain.

    ¡°Dahj! What did you eat?!¡± she yelled, helping support him in a sitting position.

    ¡°What? When?¡± Everything was still quite foggy, and the grasses around him were seemingly still slightly swaying without the assistance of the wind.

    ¡°Last night! When you took rations from my pouch. I think¡­ I think something got mixed up. I put some of my defensive fungus in the wrong pouch. Oh, Dahj I¡¯m so sorry! You could have been killed!¡± she shouted, beginning to weep.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, it¡¯s fine,¡± he said, covering his eyes to regain focus. ¡°What the fire was that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure which you accidentally ate, but I generally collect ones with psychoactive properties. They make a great non-lethal defensive consumable¡­What exactly did you see, anyway?¡± She had digressed from concern to gleeful curiosity.

    ¡°I don¡¯t exactly remember,¡± Dahj lied. ¡°The moon looked cool, that¡¯s about it. Then it just felt like I was dying, so I laid down!¡±

    Dahj leaned forward to brush way the ghostly sensation of something wrapped around his ankle. It couldn¡¯t have been him. He told us he didn¡¯t know each of us in a previous life¡­ that the land chose us¡­ Tentacles don¡¯t grow out of the land.

    ***

    Traveling that day was a slog. Dahj''s stomach was churning. His mind was clouded. He wasn''t sure if it was the fungus or the information discovered the previous night. He wanted to bring it up to Brenloru, but feared the information would damper the trip, or cancel it all together. Gathering accounts of the other Guardian¡¯s deaths, he compared them to his own.

    Brenloru''s was caused by a freak storm, Reblex killed by bears. It only raised more questions. How could a storm that powerful brew so quickly? Bears don''t typically hunt in packs, why would multiple come after Reblex? At that time, only the Designer had contact with the elements. Only the Soul of Atmosphere could whip up such a storm. Could it be possible that it was the Designer, with the assistance of the Souls that caused the Guardian¡¯s first deaths? Why would it be in his favor for them to die? Was it a test of strength that they had failed?

    No, Dahj thought, pushing the intrusive thoughts from his mind. This must have been orchestrated from the carnivore''s designer. Dahj had never been given a full description of the rebel, but assumed his designer made her in his own image. This would explain the tentacle that held Dahj in place as wolves attacked him, which mimicked the similar assaults suffered since reviving. In each instance of assault, there had been at least two wolves.  She must¡¯ve known he was alive, and of importance; she¡¯s sending predators after him to prevent his journey.

    Paranoia set in as he wondered how she consistently knew his location. In the field with the red dogs. In the valley before meeting Brenloru. After leaving the Cedar Homestead to collect rations. Scanning the horizon, he suspected he was being watched now. If predators knew the Guardians were en route to the place of power, they may know about the tentacle. They would know the Designer is vulnerable ¨C not to mention desperate ¨C to send for strangers out on a suicide mission.

    The questions were mounting. Doubt was debilitating him. He needed to have a meeting with the Designer. Until then, the other three could not know about his recent revelations; it wouldn''t help the mission to plague their minds as well. Reblex seemed distracted enough as it was¡­ for whatever reason, and Festelda had just revisited the troubling state of her gaze. Brenloru, however, seemed unwavering. Dahj admired his tenacity in carrying out the mission of a mysterious beast. He was either enlightened to some small detail that Dahj was not, or a misguided zealot.

    ¡°There ¨C that''s gotta be suitable, right?¡± Reblex motioned towards a plateau that stood proudly above the land.

    Sheer cliffs jutted dramatically out of the soil, raising the independent plot of rock hundreds of feet higher than the surrounding valley. The group was currently too low in elevation to identify what was inhabiting the level summit of the stand-alone rock formation. It resembled a behemoth¡¯s top-hat; forgotten in an otherwise flat valley. Dahj pretended that the giant had set it down during a rest, then forgotten it upon resuming his travels.

    ¡°Let¡¯s circle around to see if there will be a more¡­ approachable slope,¡± Brenloru said, intimidated by the vertical cliffs that made up the circumference of the massive, pillar-like geographical feature.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, too steep for you, old man?¡± Reblex taunted.

    ¡°No, there just doesn¡¯t seem to be any trees to grab onto, ram,¡± he replied smugly.

    ***

    Circling around the pillar one hundred and eighty degrees, the group found a small path that corkscrewed up the circumference of the plateau. Consisting of crumbling rocks, it was loosely held together by grasses and roots. Precarious, but their only feasible route. As they gained altitude, more of the surrounding landscape was revealed, boasting fields of low grasses, mountain ranges, and off in the distance ¨C wisps of steam.

    ¡°Fires?¡± Reblex gestured to the steam rising into the cool spring air. His powerfully legs tirelessly strode from rock to rock.

    ¡°No,¡± Brenloru said, huffing. He pushed on his knees with his hands to keep climbing. His antlers knocked against the side wall that stood merely inches from his left side. ¡°Steam. Hot water mixing with the cool air. We should take note of locations to investigate later ¨C could be the geysers we heard of earlier.¡±

    As they rounded near the summit, Dahj head a ¡°Tok¡± behind him. Brenloru had clicked to gain his attention. The moose wore a scowl as he gestured towards a bald eagle circling above the plateau.

    ¡°Probably hunting for rodents,¡± Dahj said over his shoulder dismissively.

    The eagle continued to make full circles around the plateau from hundreds of feet in the air. Dahj had always respected the eagle; a symbol of nobility and strength. They were one of the most dominant species of the sky, mostly due to their carnivorous traits. Their long, sharp talons and a sturdy, pointed beak were utilized to rip flesh and eat meat whole. Incredible vision could detect the movement of small prey on the ground from high in the air, and exceptional speed allowed the bird to drop on a retreating meal in the blink of an eye. Dahj and his group were much too large to be considered prey, but it was best to keep an eye on any meat eaters, regardless of their capability.

    Dahj took his first step onto the rounded, flat summit of the plateau with a deep breath through his wide nostrils, followed by a long sigh out of his bearded mouth. The spring air filled his lungs, revitalizing him. It smelled of pollen with a hint of freeze from the mountain tops. He marveled at the ability of the wind to carry various seeds to the top of this raised land to populate it with grasses, dotted with small purple flowers.

    As he took a moment to scan the surrounding landscape, the group caught their breath. Festelda scavenged for any rations she could collect and bring along. Dahj¡¯s pouch hummed at his waist. The moment that the appendage produced a sound, the eagle still circling above them screeched loudly. The bird of prey locked eyes on Dahj and narrowed its rotation, descending about half its original distance from the summit.

    ¡°It knows,¡± Dahj said over his shoulder to Brenloru. ¡°I knew it, she has scouts. We¡¯re being followed.¡±

    ¡°Leave it in the pouch. Do not touch it,¡± Brenloru hissed, keeping his eyes on the eagle.

    The eagle screeched once more before ending its circle with a straight line, taking a route directly north west.

    Unaware of the attention, Reblex continued stretching and Festelda picked a few flowers to craft a small daisy chain.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say ¡®followed¡¯,¡± Brenloru said slowly. ¡°She just has many sentries. They seem to be able to detect the appendage when it is gaining power. We will need to be aware of our current position when it is ready to absorb elemental power from unique places.¡±

    ¡°So, he is probably reporting back to her, no?¡± Dahj wondered.

    ¡°Perhaps. Either way, we need to keep moving.¡±

    Dahj removed the appendage from its pouch. It had swelled, and grown in length again. The same colors swirled from within vibrantly. Small leaves sprouted out of the tentacle. Quickly growing to full size, their lives were quite short. Severed from the tiny branches from which they grew, they lightly drifted to the ground below in the course of only a few moments. The branches now barren, they provided the appendage visual texture. Jagged pebbles surrounded the base, reinforcing the end yanked from one of the Designer¡¯s eight sockets. The lent arm of power was beginning to represent its respective element quite well.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re in luck, Dahj,¡± Brenloru called to him, standing on the edge of the plateau facing due east.

    Dahj joined him. Gusts of wind were stronger near the edge, making him squint his eyes. Before them, a massive canyon cut deep into the earth by a relentless river that slowly sliced deeper and deeper into soft rocks for millions of years. The walls were splashed with brilliant colors of pale gold, white, and brown. Patches of reds bled down the face ¨C an afterthought of the mad artist that designed it. The sun shone directly into the canyon, igniting the colors. Small trees and brushes clung on for dear life, somehow picking the most precarious places to grow.

    Their bright colors of life contrasted against the wide palate of stone.

    ¡°That¡¯s our next spot,¡± Dahj said, reminded of the gorge where his herd would rest for winter, but on a much larger scale. ¡°We¡¯ll venture as deep into the canyon as we can. The Designer¡¯s limb should be satiated there.¡±

    ***

    The group descended the plateau to find somewhere safer to rest ¨C feeling too exposed on the raised, flat land.

    ¡°Do you remember your death, Reblex?¡± Dahj asked, breaking the silence. He realized he had never actually heard the story from Reblex himself. Only a synopsis from Brenloru when he stood at Reblex¡¯s side in the Cedar Homestead, before his awakening.

    ¡°I¡­ well, yeah kind of, I guess,¡± Reblex stammered, surprised Dahj would be asking such a question at this time. ¡°It was fall, I believe. Just on the brink of winter. Cold was setting in, and frost was claiming the last of the resources. It gets quite cold at the altitude us rams are used to living, you know. Bears become very competitive at that time of year, as they need to fill their bellies with as much food as possible before hibernation¡­¡± Reblex trailed off, recalling his events.

    ¡°I was with a few others¡­ the ones I told you about. I was leading them, protecting them from desperate predators. Well, one evening, we get surrounded by three black bears. These guys must have been cutting their hibernation curfew real close. You don¡¯t typically see black bears team up to take down prey. As they pushed in, I knocked one real good. Put him to sleep!¡± he chuckled proudly and puffed his chest. ¡°But the second one, I dunno. I had reared up, dropped by head, and as my forelegs landed, I just kinda¡­ sank. My hooves sorta fell into the earth, as if I had landed in soft sand. I guess I wasn''t paying attention to my footing. My own mistake cost me my life. Before I knew it, they were on me. Growling, thrashing, biting. I can still feel the claws in my side. Never found out if the rest escaped.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°I see,¡± Dahj said lightly. ¡°Thank you for sharing.¡±

    Soft earth¡­ Dahj thought, drowning out what Reblex carried on about. Peculiar, for ground to just¡­ give out like that at that altitude. His mind raced. There was no way the carnivore¡¯s designer had become so powerful. Had she already gained the power of the elements? The ability to move segments of land? Command storms?

    Dahj turned his suspicion back to his own Designer. The evidence was mounting against him. Only he had the ability to communicate with the Souls of this planet. The Designer must have requested that the Soul move the land to inhibit Reblex. He must have requested the conjured the storm that pushed Brenloru to his death.

    Why am I putting my life on the line to serve the entity that killed me? What happens when we return his tentacle to him, fully charged? How will he dispose of us when he finished with our services? If the Designer truly had been here for millions of years, Dahj¡¯s present company couldn¡¯t be the first generation of ¡®heroes¡¯ to be sent out to power his appendages. He was just another wave of fools convinced to serve a deity. A gullible martyr accepting a death mission so that the Designer can safely stay in his giant tree, protected from the war he accidently started in the first place when he fell to his own, relentless creation.

    That¡¯s enough existential crisis for one day, Dahj thought, snapping back to reality to focus on the canyon. He needed to be prepared for the worst for his own good, without worrying the rest of the group. Perhaps he could use the tentacle against the Designer, should things go sour.

    ***

    Dahj and his party trailed against the current of a wide, roaring river as they headed east into the canyon. The frigid water rushing past them smelled chilled, fueled by recently-melted mountain snow. The white noise of the river drowned out Dahj¡¯s negative thoughts, allowing him to appreciate the splendor of the newly discovered region. After all, if it wasn¡¯t for this mission, he may never have otherwise traveled this far from his typical rotation of feeding grounds. If there was this much contrast in the landscape such a short distance from ¡®home¡¯, he wondered what else the land had to offer should he travel further.

    It was a new emotion for him; wanderlust. Bison are typically rigidly territorial. They have no interest in exploring such vast areas. However, the canyon, the plateau, the fauna, and the hot spring had given him inspiration to see how far he could stray. Perhaps when this was all over, he would trek as far as he could ¨C until the land met the sea. He wished to witness the oceans only told of in tales.

    Venturing into the canyon made large species of mammals feel small. Dahj strained his neck to follow the towering ridgeline above. The basin of the canyon only had a few hours of exposure between the sun rising on one side and setting behind the other. It was either dawn or dusk for most of the day within the rocky path. Small bends in the river created pools of slower moving water; prime resting places for spotted, multicolored trout. Their rainbow-colored skin reflected brilliantly in the sunlight, magnified and enhanced by the surface of the frigid water.

    About a mile into the canyon, Dahj noticed other glints coming from the river bed, mingling amongst tumbled rocks of varying sizes. Most were mere specks, but eventually¡­

    Dahj approached the shore of a calm arm of the river. The small, loose pebbles shifted under his weight, causing him to slide sideways until ankle deep in the crystal-clear pool. He plunged his hand through the mirror-like surface to grab a chuck of the unique stone. It was deep yellow, covered in debris of other rocks. Some specks glinted brightly in the sunlight. ¡°Yellow rocks¡­¡± he said, presenting the stone to the group.

    ¡°Yeah, cool. A rock,¡± Reblex said impatiently. ¡°There¡¯s loads of them. What are we supposed to do here for the tentacle, any-?¡±

    Dahj¡¯s pouch containing the appendage started to vibrate violently as Dahj rinsed the rock in the river, removing pieces of debris.

    Holding the stone in one hand, he released the appendage from its pouch. It was twisting and moving, as if still attached to the Designer. Articulating, it appeared to be reaching for the rock in Dahj¡¯s opposite hand. Dahj obliged. Bringing his hands together, he allowed the stone within the limb¡¯s reach. The tentacle latched on and wrapped itself around the yellow stone, squeezing tightly. As it absorbed from the rock, the tentacle flashed a brilliant gold light, which reflected off the mirror-like surface of the river before them. Dahj had to look away for the moment that it persisted to avoid being blinded.

    When he turned back to his outstretched hand, the tentacle appeared satisfied. It had gone limp again. Greens, browns, and greys swirled from within. Small leaves grew and fell within moments. Stones materialized, further fortifying various parts of its skin. The once-yellow rock it had been wrapped around was now black and porous, like a chunk of exhausted pumice.

    ¡°Well it liked that,¡± Brenloru said in awe.

    ¡°What was that stuff?¡± Festelda said, scrambling to find more along the river.

    ¡°It must be a source of this place¡¯s power,¡± Dahj said. ¡°This land is fabled for a reason.¡±

    Tumbled, rounded rocks shifted loudly from behind the group, gaining their attention. With pops and snaps, they grinded against each other under the weight of a heavy beast. Dahj whipped his head around and met eyes with a massive grizzly bear standing about thirty yards from them, cautiously approaching. Drool dripped from the exposed canines of the bear¡¯s gaping jaw. The bear looked anxious, as if fighting an internal battle while moving towards the group. Each footstep was heavily labored, swaying the bears massive body left to right. His head hung just above the rocks.

    ¡°Did she send you?!¡± Dahj raised his voice over the white noise of the river to carry towards the massive beast. He quickly returned the tentacle to its pouch with impatient effort. The appendage squeaked pathetically as it was forcefully shoved into a pouch it had long since outgrown.

    ¡°She?!¡± the bear roared back. ¡°You are near my river. Leave before I must take action to remove you.¡±

    The emotion within the eyes of the bear scared Dahj more than his teeth, claws, or size. He was an omnivore. Once a powerful vigil of the forest, bears had nearly abandoned their diets of seeds, berries and plants to instead fill their stomachs with fish and red meat. Although their will was strong, the bear¡¯s mind was weak. Paired with their size and speed made them a perfect candidate for the carnivore designer¡¯s persuasive grip.

    ¡°We¡¯re just passing through, bear,¡± Dahj said calmly.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t want to attack you! I¡­ I have never wanted to attack,¡± the bear replied through a slight whimper.

    ¡°You are going through a transition. Becoming an omnivore,¡± Dahj said to the conflicted soul. ¡°It is a choice you must make yourself. To live off the land or consume flesh.¡±

    ¡°Who did this to me?¡± the bear cried, unable to understand his new insatiable cravings for meat and blood.

    ¡°We can explain all of that,¡± Dahj said carefully. ¡°Come with us and you will have refuge, along with a lifetime of plant-based rations. You will no longer need to consume flesh.¡±

    The bear shook his head violently and roared. ¡°I have no choice,¡± he said in a low, gravelly voice.

    Head down, eyes locked on Dahj, the bear charged. Festelda screamed.  In that moment, the beast had lost control of his own motor function. His body performed more like a vessel than a being. Quickly lumbering along the river line, he lost his footing just before rearing up to stand taller than Dahj. As Dahj covered his face with his arms, he heard a loud CRACK.

    The bear groaned deeply from within his chest before falling sideways into the river. Entering with a heavy splash, rippling waves were sent through the rushing water to the opposite shore. Reblex had charged from the bear¡¯s left side, connecting both his curved horns with the bear¡¯s skull. It only took one hit to black out the bear¡¯s already-feeble mind, toppling him into the river.

    Dahj watched the limp body of the massive beast drift down stream briefly before chasing after it. Smooth, rounded rocks rolled and slipped as he ran adjacent to the bear, close to the water line as possible. Pulling ahead of the lifeless body, Dahj entered the river. Lifting his knees to prevent being bogged down by the grip of frigid water, he stomped towards the beast, splashing water to his side.

    Deeper water correlated with increased pressure, threatening to push his ankles out from underneath him. Fish scattered and Festelda called his name as the river dragged him south, carrying both bison and bear. Straightening his arm, Dahj caught himself open-palmed on slick rocks beneath the surface. White waves splashed the side of his face as he sputtered to keep his nose above water.

    The gap between the bear was widening as Dahj stumbled to stand again, spitting water from his mouth and shaking the chill from his fingers. Had it not been for a dead tree that laid across the river, the corpse would have gained too much distance to be recoverable. Wedged between tree and stone, waves lapped over thick, brown pelt as Dahj approached to take hold.

    Digging his thick fingers into loose, extra skin caused burning pain. Planting his heels did little to solidify his stance on loose pebbles as Dahj pushed backwards, grip locked tightly on the bear. Enduring one, two, three more slips while backpedaling towards shore, he released one hand at a time to brace or balance himself. Though the weight of the beast was lightened from partially floating near the surface, each yank felt heavier as the beat¡¯s pelt slowly saturated with water.

    Once beached, Dahj laid back, panting heavily. Huffing with force, he pushed fresh water through his massive, leathery nose. The others worked together to finish pulling the beast onto the rocky shore. Brenloru hung two fingers in front of the bear¡¯s nose, then pushed into its carotid artery check for a pulse or breathing.

    ¡°Why?¡± Festelda said, astonished by the physical feat of dragging a bear out of a river.

    ¡°We don¡¯t just¡­ kill,¡± Dahj said between heavy breaths. ¡°This animal went through an excruciating transition. I pity him. He used to be an herbivore, like us. We will respect and utilize his physical body.¡±

    Brenloru sprinkled ceremonial herbs into the wind above the fallen animal. ¡°He is still a creature of nature,¡± he agreed. ¡°It¡¯s a shame he was overcome by the carnivore''s design.¡± Lifting one side of the bear¡¯s lips exposed massive canines.

    ¡°Festelda, please. Do what you can to utilize whatever this corpse has to offer that could be valuable for our travels. Hide for clothing, teeth and claws for weapons, dried tendons for your traps,¡± Dahj said over his shoulder.

    Festelda hesitantly drew her small daggers. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ do what I can, I guess. I don¡¯t exactly have experience skinning an animal!¡±

    ***

    An hour passed as they quickly became intimate with the internal anatomy of a grizzly bear. Slitting the throat, they oriented the body downhill towards the river to drain blood before the icy fingers of rigor mortis had clutched the corpse. Festelda hopped around the animal multiple times. Hand to her chin, she envisioned the perfect approach to skinning the omnivore. First, she removed the claws one by one, then the teeth. They would be best suited for additional daggers and another one of her traps respectively. Then she skinned the skull. Exposing veins, bones and flesh made her flinch, but he pushed forward.

    ¡°This would make a fine hood,¡± she said, cringing after removing the skin of the head. The sight of a lidless eye gazing through her made her drop the skin to the ground with a shriek.

    ¡°The pelt will insulate in the cold,¡± Dahj added, suspecting that his own would no longer be sufficient during the winter. ¡°We¡¯ll rest for the remainder of the day and lay it out in the sun to dry. Do what you can to scrape the fat and tissue away with the edge of your knife.¡±

    ***

    The group exited the canyon into the field they had entered from. Bare patches and large boulders jutting out of the soil interrupted the dominant spread of wildflowers and grasses. Mostly unchallenged, the grasses had grown so tall they had fallen to their side under their own weight. Dahj scoffed at the misfortune of this valley never being utilized by his herd. They would have gorged themselves here!

    The smell of sage was kicked up, filling Dahj¡¯s nostrils from the pelt over the land. The sun was near setting, and he needed to find a place to dry it. Orange-red light exploded off the horizon, mirroring his current emotions. His mental state was still fragile from negativity. Regretfully, he assumed this trip was only going to end in pain. He feared for the others as well; pitying their naive nature to follow the word of the Designer for so long.

    Dahj sprawled the pelt on the face of a large rock, skin side out to dry in the sunset. He laid on his back, around the other side of the rock to be alone with his thoughts. Festelda deployed her traps around the rest area. It was to be a full moon that night. Any extra defense was important on such nights; as predators were generally more active when assisted by late-night visibility.

    Brenloru approached Dahj as he stared at the sky. The clarity of the night sky allowed for every star to be easily visible.

    Brenloru joined Dahj¡¯s gaze. ¡°Fascinating, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°What do you think they are?¡± Dahj asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen them so bright.¡±

    ¡°Well, other moons, I suppose. Just much further away,¡± Brenloru replied on a wild guess.

    ¡°There are many unanswered questions behind this mission, Bren. I know you are too smart to not have your own suspicions,¡± Dahj said, eyes darting back and forth from cluster to cluster of ¡®moons¡¯. ¡°You have known the Designer much longer than I. Do you truly believe he is to be trusted?¡±

    ¡°I understand why you may be feeling cautious, Dahj. But this ¨C everything. The plants, the animals. They are all his work,¡± Brenloru said as he waved his arm, palm up, across the horizon. ¡°His actions are fueled by his passion of wanting his species to thrive. He simply needs our help. Millions of years¡¯ worth of work lost to blood thirsty predators, should we fail.¡±

    ¡°Are we truly the first ¡®Guardians,¡¯ you think?¡± Dahj asked.

    ¡°If we weren¡¯t, we would probably have more at his disposal,¡± Brenloru said with a chuckle. ¡°I mean he sent us out here basically naked, still learning how to walk with hands that are barely functional! We truly are his last-ditch effort.¡±

    Dahj looked at his leathery hands again, squeezing the odd fingers into a fist.

    ¡°There is a food chain establishing itself on this planet. If we don¡¯t act quickly, we will soon find ourselves at the bottom,¡± Brenloru said.

    Dahj grunted in agreement.

    ¡°He really changed my interpretation of the scale of things, the Designer,¡± Dahj said in a low voice, returning his gaze to the night sky. ¡°Do you ever desire to see more of the world?¡±

    ¡°Well of course. Now that I know it is much bigger than I originally perceived. I desire to experience the change in landscape. It can¡¯t all just be mountains and fields.¡±

    ¡°Have you considered returning to the north?¡±

    ¡°Under no circumstances,¡± Brenloru responded sternly. ¡°That place is for ice and rocks. Living creatures do not belong there.¡±

    Dahj¡¯s eyelids grew heavy. ¡°We will, brother. When this is all over and I¡¯m done with this squirming thing, we will see the world.¡± He drifted off under the stars, comforted by Brenloru¡¯s reply. It was believable, after all. The Designer¡¯s creations only ate that which grows out of the ground; he didn¡¯t seem to have any ill intent or motive to become vicious.

 Chapter 15: Maurlynn

    Dahj awoke in the same position he had fallen asleep in. He retrieved the tentacle from its pouch to inspect it in the morning light. It looked healthier than ever as it squirmed happily in his hand. Reaching up his arm, tiny leaves sprouted from its sides before falling to Dahj¡¯s wrist. It felt like a companion now; mindlessly joining him on his journey to a new land as they shared new experiences. However, this was no new land to the tentacle. It had played a significant role in creating almost everything around him some time ago. His eyes welled with a deeper appreciation for the tentacle, and made him want to treat it as a privilege ¨C rather than a burden.

    Morning dew lightly coated Dahj¡¯s body. Each hair of his sparsely-remaining pelt soaked absorbed droplets of water, utilizing the nourishment to hydrate and revitalize him. The morning sun covered his face, filling him with a sense of optimism regarding the outcome of re-empowering the Designer to reclaim this planet as their own. A planet designed for plant eaters, by plant eaters. Perhaps the Designer would repopulate his native land with a new herd in Dahj¡¯s unique image that he would be free to lead, as a reward for his valiant efforts. A land void of predators or struggles for power.

    The mornings were still quite cool at this time of year, but the musty bear pelt Dahj had used as a blanket was beginning to overheat his torso. As he pulled the skin of the slain beast away, he realized the pelt had not fully dried in the sun on the previous day. Sticky blood coated his chest, causing him to gag from the gamey smell of a wild omnivore.

    The thought of his group becoming killers crystalized within his mind. Acting out of defense was one thing, and the only resort that had justified his previous brutal interactions with carnivores. But now, he felt that he carried a trophy. Physical proof of a life that he had assisted in taking.

    Only the beginning, he realized regretfully. There would probably be many more, if they were to ever end the threat.

    The group had one location remaining to sate the tentacle ¨C a cave. To visit the one Brenloru had chosen, they would need to head a little further west before turning north. A slightly different route than they had taken to get here, but perhaps the alternative would offer more unique experiences. This path would miss the Cedar Homestead by a few miles west, but there was no point in returning before the tentacle had finished reabsorbing power of the land anyway.

    Excitement to see more of this place of power battled the yearn for safety and amenities of the Homestead. Dahj recalled his farming plots, and hoped that his root crops were still bountiful under the watch of the Homestead¡¯s farmers. What he wouldn¡¯t give to bite into a potato right now¡­ or a red squishy. Making mental lists of crops he planned to grow outdoors distracted from the length of the hike before him.

    ***

    Miles north west of the group, an eagle flew just above the tops of cedar and pine trees densely clustered together. The early morning air was foggy due to the changing temperature during sunrise. Small rodents scurried across the damp forest floors, littered with pine needles and sticks. Even the slightest movement of prey caught the eagle¡¯s eye through the branches whizzing below him. His stomach ached from hunger, but he didn¡¯t have time to stop.

    Landmarks he recognized appeared on the ground below. Certain rock formations, a river leading to a calm lake, trees that only grew moss on one side¡­ He was close to his destination. The forest floor rose sharply into the mountain range he was flying directly towards. Dropping below the tree line, he slowed his pace to weave between trees as he ascended the ridgeline. Before him laid a mouth of a cave. Its entrance was slightly blocked from roots and jagged rocks. The eagle glided in, wingspan wide, without hesitation.

    Hovering through the dark tunnel, the eagle¡¯s eyes dilated to let in remaining light as he weaved back and forth, avoiding jagged edges that protruded from the cave¡¯s walls. Once he felt unsafe in the air, his talons touched down on the cool, moist rocks to hop the rest of the way to a fork at the tunnel¡¯s end.

    Cold water dripped from the ceiling. Droplets landed on the back of the eagle¡¯s neck, causing him to shake his head and ruffle his plume. With barely enough illumination, he approached the fork of the cool, dank tunnel. Light flickered on the wall to his left. Footsteps echoed off the walls to his right. Muted pacing, like paw pads lightly scraping against cold stone.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    As the eagle rounded the corner to his right, humidity hit him in the face. Steam almost filled the massive room. A vaulted ceiling reached so high that shadows had shrouded the top, unable to be lit by various torches placed throughout the room. It had no definitive shape. Crafted out of sheer luck by nature, some walls were rounded, others almost flat, but most so jagged that the rubble-filled areas were unusable.

    The smell of iron was so strong that he could taste it when the moist air condensed on the eagle¡¯s tongue. The flavor that lingered tasted like the rancid blood of an old kill he had scrounged, making him feel like a desperate scavenger. Pelts were strung up tightly on wooden frames for display. A few that the eagle quickly scanned included wolf, bear, raccoon, possum, and mountain lion. Strings of teeth and claws ascending in size were hung on the walls either for reference or decoration.

    A silhouette paced behind a massive table made of stone, monitoring miscellaneous limbs and bones being fused by steam provided from a natural vent within the cave. Steam danced in the light of the flickering torches, obscuring the vision of the cave¡¯s resident. Torchlight reflected off golden yellow eyes that fell on the eagle the moment he entered.

    ¡°Adruh. You¡¯ve returned, so soon?¡± a voice hissed from behind the steam.

    ¡°It has been over two months,¡± the eagle replied. ¡°You lose track of time quite easily, miss.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right,¡± she purred. ¡°And what did you learn, my champion of the sky?¡±

    ¡°I felt his presence,¡± Adruh replied, ¡°on a plateau in the land of yellow rocks. He was there but¡­ I didn¡¯t see him. Just a group of four animals.¡±

    ¡°What animals? The species.¡± The voice was intrigued.

    ¡°A racoon, for sure. It was just rummaging for rations. The other three¡­ I have never seen anything like them. One closely resembled a ram. The horns on its head, the powerful legs, narrow face. Another had the rack of an aged moose, wide and plate-like with many points. A long face and a wide nose. The third, a face similar to the moose, with a long beard that hung from his chin to his chest. A wide head with short, curly hair that ran down his shoulders and back. Shorter, stouter horns atop its head,¡± the bird listed.

    ¡°Sounds like a bison ¨C typical for that region. Strange for them to travel together, and in such a unique area¡­ Consider my interest piqued,¡± she said with a smile that bared sharp, white teeth in the warm illumination of the torches. ¡°So, go on, what was so odd about them?¡± The golden eyes darted back and forth from the eagle to the project they were monitoring, glinting in the light with every movement.

    ¡°Well, they were standing up, miss. Like, erect. Straight up. They had hands, that looked like they used to be hooves, but were hands now. With five fingers,¡± Adruh stuttered as he shifted slightly, ruffling the feathers on his neck straight outward.

    The golden eyes completely lost track of what they were doing to focus on the eagle. They widened a bit. ¡°Upright, you say?¡± she asked nervously. ¡°He has done it. I am falling behind¡­ If he is able to duplicate this process multiple times¡­ for multiple species¡­ I may no longer have the edge.¡±

    The golden eyes were no longer visible as the silhouette whipped around to rifle through piles of bones, teeth, and claws behind it, abandoning the project at hand.

    Adruh approached the table to see what his master was working on. Wings of a bat were crudely fused to some sort of four-legged reptile. Completely lifeless, its lizard-like head laid sideways on the warm rocks from which wisps of steam were rising. Long canines were exposed, unable to be covered by thin lips tightly stretched across the creature¡¯s hairless face. It had two narrow slits for nostrils. Its skin was a pale green, void of blood and warmth. A long, wiry tail trailed from its skinny body. Its eyes and ears were absent; still in development.

    ¡°Is this a¡­ new project?¡± Adruh asked delicately, horrified by the unnatural mash-up of creatures lying before him.

    ¡°Sort of,¡± she snapped as she continued to rifle, desperately searching for an inspirational breakthrough. ¡°Something that I¡­ we, worked on a very long time ago, yet I am now failing to recreate. It could be the final weapon I need to eradicate the herbivores.¡±

    ¡°Maurlynn,¡± Adruh said sternly, directed at the frantic silhouette rummaging through unorganized piles of body parts and limbs in the back of the room.

    Maurlynn paused, turning her golden eyes back on the bird.

    ¡°This will be fine. These new¡­ features he has developed. They are not the end for us. If anything, it makes the hunt more fun,¡± Adruh said with a hiss as his thin, fake grin spread wider. ¡°And it¡¯s always been about the hunt, no?¡± He clicked his beak.

    ¡°He is much further than I expected,¡± Maurlynn replied in a low tone. ¡°I remember when he developed erect postures and thumbs for apes,¡± she said, eyes flicking from pelt to pelt displayed against the walls. ¡°Then opposable thumbs for raccoons, possums... I didn¡¯t think much of it then, because I was able to persuade those species quickly. Bison, moose, ram¡­ those could be trickier. They are simply not built to be omnivores anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°I will buy you as much time as you need, Maurlynn,¡± said Adruh. ¡°We will find ways to¡­ discourage them on their journey.¡±

    The golden eyes bobbed, nodding in approval, then moved back to the table to revisit her ghastly project with haste.