**This piece depicts injuries, and graphic animal death for food and self defense**

***

Forge gives himself a thorough shake. A few days before, Hianlian had been brought down, and for now, the Singing Vale was free for any to enter. He and his team from the raid had decided to go out this morning and replenish some of their lost stores. Looking around, he sees that the only other one up was Rosethorn. He walks up to her respectfully, and sees that she's nearly finished repairing some of her equipment. She puts the pieces back on and shakes herself off. 

"So, are we just waiting on the other two now?" she asks.

As he goes to speak, a playful nudge makes him jump, "Hey, give me some warning next time!"

Sorcha laughs and playfully retorts, "you sure your ears are fine? You were around some serious shock waves."

"Well, at least _I_ didn't get hit by any lightning!" Forge grumbles at her half-heartedly.

"Yeah, and my hearing is fine you big ykalu leaf," she dodges from his playful swipe. They hear shuffling behind them both and turn.

"Everyone seems to be in good spirits today," Kalahari says, chuckling.

Rosethorn gives a rare smile, "looks like it. I dunno about you, but i could go for a good run, maybe a hunt or two."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea. Hey Kal, didn't you want to get some ore, too, while we were out?" Foge asks.

Kalahari shows off the mining and gathering equipment attached to his harness, "I have spares if anyone wants to borrow some."

Forge sees Rosethorn make her way over to Kalahari's tent with him and Sorcha, and grab some of the equipment. _​Interesting._​ He finds himself drawn to her in admiration after seeing her fight​​​. _​I don't know where Sorcha found her, but_ damn _​is she a good fighter._​​​ _​I'm glad she brought her along._​ He heard the others talking about a specific area that had some ore and good herbs.​​​

Kalahari comes up beside him and grins, “how do you feel after your first raid?”

“It was your first one too! Haha, but I think it went well. I still hurt like I got beat by a god-” everyone chuckled at that, “-but I’m doing better. Damn proud of us all for that fight, too. How about you, Kal?” he finishes, with a grin.

“I felt more rage than I ever knew I could, honestly. It was kinda scary, still is, like I have this beast inside me that could break out. But, it also feels like something I can control and learn to use. Especially with my _greheli_,” he says, thoughtfully.

Rosethorn adds, “yer not wrong on the dangers. Ya never know who gets the battle rage, and it can be _incredibly_ dangerous without self discipline. But, I don’t see that in ya, you have good discipline, all of ya. Hey, where exactly are we headed?”

“Here, lemme take the lead!” Kalahari says, heading up front. Sorcha follows him, asking if he knew where a specific herb she wanted to bring back could be found.

Suddenly his heart is racing, standing next to Rosethorn with the others up front. _Oh please, let us reach the first area quickly_, he prays. Rosethorn seems content to listen to them, and add when she feels she has something to add. A part of him feels that the walls she had up when she arrived had come down some. 

Mercifully, the first area was close. _My brain isn’t as addled by the fight as I thought_, he thinks to himself. They spread out, looking for new shoots of herbs. Somehow he ends up near Rosethorn again. His heart won't stop racing, and he’s sure she can hear it. _This is going to be a long day._

***

Rosethorn keeps herself close to Forge, the yellow toa catching her interest. She doesn’t know yet what she’s going to do about it, if anything, but she wants to keep her eye on him. The other two ketucari, Scorch and Kalahari, are intently looking for the herbs they both need. She recognizes some of the names, and keeps her eyes peeled for the fresh shoots.

They keep walking, and she sticks close to Forge, but not _too_ close. Mist curls around their feet and stirs with their movements. The silence isn’t strained, and for that she’s grateful; she doesn't know what she’d say. A waft of something catches her attention, and she moves towards it Under some trees is a particularly large patch of mixed herbs. After identifying that the plants are useful, she calls out to the others. Sorcha and Kalahari poke their heads up and make their way over. 

Rosethorn carefully picks the plants, bundles them up, and places them in one of her baskets. She struggles with the tying that the others make look easy. The plants are all so fresh that they seem to just _break_ in her claws when she tries to tie them into bundles using nearby grass. After her fourth bundle breaks, she instead opts to use twine. _I don't know why I was trying to use grass…_ she wonders. She fights the flush of embarrassment at needing to use something else.

_I need to gather my own materials more,_ she thinks, _especially to avoid making a fool of myself, no matter how minor…_ 

“Hey, Rosethorn, do you mind if I use some of your twine?” Kalahari asks.

She hides the surprise, “yeah, here, I have a lotta spools with me.”

He thanks her, and moves so Sorcha and Forge can also grab a spool. _Huh._ She continues gathering herbs, until the others declare the patch picked. At first she was confused, because there were still _plenty_ of herbs left. As they were walking away she understood. _They want to make sure the patch stays, especially with how close it is to camp._

_Let this be a lesson to myself, things aren’t always what my mind thinks they are._

***

Kalahari Was grateful that Rosethorn let them use some of their twine. It made the herb process faster with how new all the plants are. _She was really thinking ahead,_ he muses. Sorcha leans into him playfully.

“What’s next big guy? This is your pack’s territory, I'm here to spend time with you guys before I head back,” she says, grinning.

He chuckles, “Well, Rosethorn said she needed some ore and other materials, and it wouldn’t be bad to have around. I might send some with you to that engineer you mentioned before. To see if he can make some useful things for us, with payment of course. Oh, that reminds me, how’s our friend in the City?”

She maintains the cheerful tone and body language, but he can see the shift as she becomes more serious, “doing fine. May have a new job lined up here soon, if you’re interested. Not too far from your pack’s territory either.”

He directs the group towards a particularly large spire that’s known for its ore. It’s still a way’s off, but Rosethorn runs ahead, equipment clinking. Forge follows after her, _might as well let them go ahead, I can catch him afterwards._

“Depending on the requirements of the job, I’m interested. I’ll need to discuss it with Sunny Side Up over there before we confirm,” he says.

Sorcha nods her head, “I understand. Send your answer straight to our Friend. I won’t be able to join you both, unfortunately. I have other business to take care of on the plains.”

“Thank you for letting us know, oh hey, we’re here if you need to bring back any ore. You can sometimes find other things around, too,” he says, shifting the topic as they approach.

The sounds of a pick hitting rock pierce the air. Then another. He looks on and sees Rosethorn hammering away at a promising chunk of ore. Forge is a distance aways, mining what looks to be a continuation of the same vein. A splash of color catches his eye, and Sorcha sees it too. _Gems_, he thinks. He brings out his fine pick, and starts to carefully chip the rock away from the colorful outcropping. 

He’s always heard about how resources seemed to flow again after a domain guardian was defeated, but seeing it with his own eyes felt surreal. While this area wasn’t exactly picked clean before the raid, it definitely wasn’t this _fruitful_ before. He carefully packs the glittering rocks away into a basket. Sorcha manages to get a large chunk for herself, too. 

He glances over to look at Rosethorn, and sees her developing quite the pile next to her. Before he can speak, she answers.

“I’m taking some of the purer ore chunks, you’re all welcome to the rest. I paid for my passage on a ship back north in a month's time, along with some cargo hold space, so I gotta be picky about what I bring back with me,” she says.

He nods his head, “makes sense, space and weight are limited commodities on a ship. Here, make a pile for what you want to pick through, and then another for things you’re definitely not taking. That way we can minimize our waste.”

She pauses and looks over at him with a smile, “I appreciate it. I don’t often get the opportunity to bring this kind of stuff to my next jobs, helps me stay in the green.”

It hits him again at how she's a mercenary with no pack support, and he blurts out a question without thinking it through, “would you want to join our pack? You can ask our Matriarch if-”

She cuts him off with cackling laughter, “Oh no, my job takes me all over the continents, Or rather, I go where the jobs are. I appreciate the offer ya made, and I’[ll keep it in mind for the future.

He notices Forge visibly droop behind her, pick forgotten on the ground. _Oh no, he’s smitten._ Another thought forms in his mind, and he looks back at Sorcha while he speaks.

“Well, Forge and I were made a job offer to go over into the Tangle, I can inquire to see if you may join. It’ll help you fill the time at least while you wait for your ship to come into port,” he says.

Sorcha nods her head slightly in affirmation, _I’m glad I read that right._

***

Sorcha is quite pleased at Kalahari’s offer to have Rosethorn join on the job. _She’s proven herself trustworthy enough, if the results of this job go well I’ll recommend her to Doc,_ she thinks. She goes to work pulling apart bits of rock that glitter with gems, and pieces of purer ore she can bring back with her. She makes her own pile, and helps sort the pieces between eh four of them, figuring out who’s carrying what, and who’s going to take what. 

A metallic tang fills the air as they work the vein. Once the sun reaches noon, they stop, and load up the ore. Some was being left behind for Forge and Kalahari to fetch later, but everyone had the purest samples they mined. That way, if anyone stumbled across what was left, they wouldn’t be losing out on too much. She tests the heft of the baskets against the straps; now content with how the weight is distributed across the harness. 

The set off somewhere else, Kalahari brings up finding a bite to eat to bring back to camp. She isn’t sure what he has in mind, at first. The calls of imps sound in the trees,and then it clicks.

“Are we going after a troop of imps?” she asks.

Kalahari nods his head, eyes focused ahead of him, “yeah, them or cliffshrieks. Cliffshriek hide makes a good tough leather. Meat isn’t bad, either.”

Rosethorn pipes up, “how will we hunt anything when our gear makes this much racket?”

“We’ll stash our gear and go on foot. There’s a cache nearby just for that purpose,” Kalahari responds.

“Oh that’s nifty!” says Rosethorn, intrigued.

It doesn’t take long to get the cache location. Sorcha is interested in the way their pack hid the location,and left it marked for anyone in the know. _I’ll have to ask if I can send notes on this to Doc,_ she thinks. Once her gear is stashed, she feels as light as air. She gives herself a good shake, and sees the others doing similar things.

The calls of imps get louder, and then Kalahari and Forge are leading them into the thicket of trees. Her and Rosethorn fall into flanking positions just ahead of the two toas; Rosethorn on Forge’s side, herself on Kalahari’s. Suddenly, the unbothered calls of tawny imps sound above them.

_Chitter, dropped fruit, annoyed calls_.

That’s when she notices they are in a fruit grove. _Oh that’s clever,_ she thinks. A couple imps take a few tentative hops towards the ground, before finally leaving the branches. She sees Kalahari signal _hold_, and she waits. More imps move to the ground, giving out calls that she assumes are _all safe_ given that more are moving down. A few remain the trees standing sentry. The imps move across the ground, picking up windfallen fruit.

_NOW!!_

She leaps out, fangs bared, and feels her teeth sink into the spine of a large imp. He thrashes once, then goes still. _A clean kill._ Shrieking above her as the troop flees, and in the distance she hears the call of cliffshrieks, no doubt alerted by the imps’ cries. The others each have one imp, more than enough for them to eat and bring some back to the pack. 

“So, are we going to skin them before taking them back?” Rosethorn asks, dropping her catch.

“Yes, we’ll field dress them. Some of the others back in camp do want intestines for something, so try to keep them as intact as possible. All the other organs you’re free to eat yourself,” Forge says, starting to skin his catch.

“Ahh, that's right. Didn’t they want to try making sausage?” Kalahari adds in, slicing the belly open.

“Yeah! Someone got some dried peppers in, trying to recreate this one spicy sausage they had a while back in Messus,” Forge says, now working on removing the organs.

“Oh, the smoked sweet and spicy ones? Like the ones we had when we were in Messus?” Sorcha asks, mouth salivating at the memory.

“Yes!” they both shout.

Rosethorn looks on the conversation with mild amusement and a curious look as she prepares her imp. Sorcha is halfway done, when she hears a hiss.

***

Rosethorn didn’t hear the flapping wings at first, but the moment she hears the hiss she leaps into action. Behind Sorcha is a larger than normal cliffshriek. There’s no time to call a warning. She feels the surge of talik burst from her body and make a rift right as the cliffshriek goes to attack Sorcha from behind. It tumbles through with a surprised _squawk_, followed by a deep hiss. 

She hisses back and goes to lunge. The Cliffshriek flaps up, tail lashing. She hears more wings,and suddenly there’s teeth snapping at the side of her head from a second cliffshriek. A growl and blast of talik hits both of them, but doesn’t stop them. She sees Forge, fangs bared. The air is charged from both of them. A third cliffshriek attempts to sideswipe Kalahari, but he throws a reflect shield up over himself and Sorcha. It bounces off harmlessly, much to its apparent chagrin. 

_skrREEEEEE_

Her ears ring from the scream. Rosethorn lashes out with her own _talik_, feeling it charge and spark off of her with the intensity of her rage. This makes the winged attackers pause, and then attempt to flee. _It’s too late_. They are blinded and left falling to the ground writhing as her blast of _talik_ hits them. Sorcha jumps in, and sinks her fangs into the neck of the largest one.

It thrashes around violently, and then suddenly goes still with a deafening _crack_. The other two recover, and turn around with a hiss, tails lashing, beaks snapping with sharp needle teeth. Kalahari lets out a deep rumble that surprises her, before tackling both of the cliffshrieks in a mess of limbs and feathers. 

She can’t get a clear view of them, and they’re moving so much that she doesn’t want to hit Kalahari. Then, a dread thought creeps into her mind like ink in water. _You were warned, this is the price your ancestors paid. Don’t be surprised,_ it says, spreading like choking oil. She shakes it free from her mind, and leaps into the fray. Sorcha and Forge are left to watch, unable to help. 

In the chaos of limbs and teeth and claws, she finds a delicate yet powerful neck, and bites _down_. The beast starts lashing, trying to escape her jaws, beating at her face with wings, but it's in an awkward position. She slams one arm into it, knocking it down onto the ground, and sinks her teeth in. Feeling the vertebrae being crushed in her jaws, she doesn’t let go until it stops. 

She glances up, and sees Kalahari with a bloodsoaked face, _but none are from wounds, impressive._ She glances at the ground,and sees the final cliffshriek, throat torn out completely. 

“Are you alright?” Rosehtorn asks him.

He nods his head, and then half collapses, panting. His arms and shoulders shaking from either stress or adrenaline, possibly both. 

“What _was_ that?! I’ve never seen cliffshrieks act like that before. We haven’t gotten word of aggressive cliffshrieks before either,” Forge says, meticulously inspecting Kalahari for wounds.

“I dunno, I haven’t either. Maybe these were being extra territorial from the raid?” Kalahari says through pants.

Sorcha goes to work cleaning the few wounds Kalahari has on him. Mostly on his chest from what Rosethorn could tell, masked by the marking there. She takes the moment to breathe, and not let the thought from earlier consume her and make her scream in frustration and anger at herself.

“Hey, you have some blood on your face, may I look to see if it’s your blood?” Sorcha asks, surprising her with how suddenly the other kadin was done.

She nods her consent, and feels the stinging of an antiseptic being gently poured on the wound. She lets out the faintest of hisses, and then it’s over.

“I guess we’ll need to field dress these too?” she asks.

Kalahari starts to speak, then stops to think before continuing, “I think we should leave these whole. The others may want to inspect them to see if there's any visible reason for them to be this aggressive. We should clean up before finishing handling the imp carcasses, however, just in case. There’s a river nearby, two will stay here, and two will go, to be safe.”

She nods her head, his reasoning makes sense, “I’ll go, and Forge should stay here, that way in case anything does happen we can make a rift and rejoin the others.”

“Good idea. You and kalahari should go first, you both have most of the blood on you,” Forge says.

“It’s settled then, I’ll do my best to inspect them while you’re both gone,” Sorcha says, lifting a wing with a long stick. 

The walk to the river is uneventful, thankfully, and quiet. The silence between is both thick enough to be cut with a knife, yet, she gets the sense he’s as grateful as she is that they _aren’t_ speaking. The cool water feels good, and she rubs her body to get as much of the blood out of her feathers and fur. Kalahari tries to do the same, but she can see that he's struggling.

_Probably pulled a muscle with that tackle,_ she thinks. She approaches, and gently scoops water up onto his back to help get the blood off. He sighs in relief, and stands there as she helps get him clean, even relaxing under her as she gets the worst of the gore off him. Then, she feels him inhale as if he’s going to speak, and dreads what he may say.

“Hey Rose, have you ever felt as if something dark inside you takes hold when you fight?” he asks, voice soft and unsure. 

The choking voice returns in her mind, taunting her, “yeah, I have.”

A shaky breath in, “have you.. Ever been afraid it’ll make you lash out and hurt those you care for?”

“Yes,” she says firmly.

He slowly nods his head, then asks in a small voice, “do you know what causes it?”

The choking voice becomes a scream of taunts in her head. Telling her to lie, telling her to give the bitter, visceral truth. Screaming that they'll turn on her. That she’s _infected_ him with the taint of her lineage.

She opts for vague truth instead, and feels the voices nash at the edges of her mind, “ not exactly, but I wish I did.”

_Liar_, her own inner voice, this time.

“Hey, there’s some herbs up on the bank there, we should bring some back for our wounds, at least,” she says, pointing out the vibrant foliage.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea… Hey, Rose? Thank you,” he says.

She feels a spear of loathing in her heart as he _thanks_ her, when she should be begging for his forgiveness and spilling all the knowledge she has. An oily image on the edge of her vision has her hurrying up the bank, it appears to _grin_ at her. _Pay it no mind, like all the other times._

They return to the others in a rift, carrying bundles of herbs. Forge and Sorcha look worried at first, but then they relax. They hurry through the rift she made. On the other side she sees them splashing in the water, rolling and getting what blood they had on them from the cliffshrieks off. Within a minute they’re trotting back up the bank towards the rift. 

Something else _twists_ in her chest, seeing Forge coming towards her, and it simultaneously makes her want to run away, and stay close to him. She stands still until they walk past her, speaking, but her mind doesn’t catch any of it. She lets the rift evaporate.

“So, we need to figure out how we’re going to carry these buggers back with the rest of our gear without potentially  cross contaminating anything,” Forge says.

“I could take all the herbs,” Sorcha offers.

“Yeah, if you take the herbs, then we can spread the ore out between myself, Kalahari, and Rosethorn. I could carry the cliffshireks, if you can carry the imps?” Forge offers.

Rosethorn is grateful they are the ones making decisions right now, her mind can’t handle anything beyond one thing at a time. Beside her Kalahari also looks grateful. Forge and Sorcha discuss the nuances of who will be carrying what, while she and Kalahari finish dressing the Imps to take back to camp. 

Once the imps were packed, and the details of who was to carry what were settled, they head back to the cache. Part of her is afraid that their gear will be gone, or destroyed, but when they arrive, she sees everything is exactly where they left it. She decouple the baskets from the carrying straps, and swaps her herbs out with Sorcha’s ore. Rosethorn also makes sure to place the herbs she gathered with Kalahari into the baskets.

When the time came to put the straps back on, ehr body protests the sudden weight, and the way it rubs on her sore body. She feels and hears Kalahari hiss beside her. Forge shrugs his straps on, and clips them to the harness. 

“Let’s head out. Sorcha and I will make the second trip to grab the rest of the ore,” Forge says.

For once, it’s good to not have to make any decisions for herself to-

_Don’t forget, you said you were interested in that job_, the oily voice reminds her with a cold stab of fear and dread in her chest. Then it partially melts at the realization she’ll get so spend more time with a certain yellow toa. _Selfish_… the voices hisses, before mercifully going quiet.