FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

29

Most of these tents had already been ransacked. Bit of an extreme choice of words, perhaps, but fairly accurate. They were stripped completely bare and for some reason reminded Kiana of barren market stalls at midnight; just a line of placeholders, somehow ominous. Some had even been stripped of the canvas that made up their walls, and were now no more than empty squares of dirt with a few wooden stakes to mark the locations where their corners once stood. Empty spaces in otherwise symmetrical rows. One such plot of land still had a single rope tied down at one end, and was whipping side to side in the wind, carving a little fan shape in the snow. A few rows farther and the basecamp ended, giving way to stumps of fallen trees and ultimately the pitch-black borders of the forest, filled with swirling shadows and winter-dead trees, groaning under the weight of all the snow sticking to their claw-like branches.

"Thanks again, Dorin," Kiana said. "You really have no idea how much I appreciate this."

"Think... nothing of it..."

They were walking down the path at an almost leisurely pace, not because they weren't in a hurry, but because Dorin really couldn't go any faster. He had one arm draped over her shoulders, and although it might have looked like he was keeping her safe from all the glowering eyes, Kiana had begun to notice that he was relying on her more and more with every step. They were holding up okay so far, but she didn't know how much longer she could keep going like this until the weight became too much. The scent of rubbing alcohol and aloe vera, a smell she normally quite liked, had taken on a pungent undertone of blood. She could see his bandages beginning to unravel, and dark red spots seeping through the layers.

"Dorin, are you okay?" she whispered, trying her best to ignore all the Wolves reluctantly getting out of their way, baring their teeth and growling beneath their breath.

"I'm fine, Kiana-Kai. Don't... Don't worry about me."

"Don't lie to me, Dorin. My mother is a healer. A 'witchdoctor' as you call them. You got into a fight even before you came here, didn't you?"

"More like ten fights..." he admitted, grinding his teeth against the pain. He was starting to develop a rather nasty limp, too. "But that's old news. We got a brand new fight to worry about right here."

"You should be in the medical tent," Kiana said, wondering what he meant by 'new fight'. Honestly, Dorin said the strangest things sometimes.

He shook his head, making his dodgy ear flop back and forth. "I'd like to. Really, I would. Aisa's in there. Probably has no idea what to do... Got her own daughter right by her side, but it's like they're complete strangers now. In a way, it's like they're meeting each other for the first time."

"If you're friends with Aisa, then what are you doing all the way out here?"

"Being a coward."

Seriously, the strangest things. "I don't think you're a coward. Certainly a coward could never stand up to a thousand armed Wolves like you did."

"Maybe not, but a coward sure can hide from one Wolf he's too terrified to even look in the eye."

"Who?" Kiana asked, thinking he must be talking about one of those big, scary Wolves with all the scars and the sharp teeth, maybe someone holding a grudge.

"He's - You know what? Never mind. Just forget I said anything."

"But if you -"

"Have you checked this tent yet? It looks untouched."

Kiana didn't want to push him too hard (especially after he risked his neck to save her), so she dropped it for now and opened the tent to peek inside. There were two bedrolls in the corner (far too small for Wolves), some clothes (also too small), a hatchet and a tinderbox.

That hatchet gave her pause. How many of those things were lying around like that, just waiting to be picked up by whoever? Probably a lot, considering how many trees they had to chop down to build the wall. The thought of some random Wolf (maybe many random Wolves) walking around with hatchets tucked into their belts gave her the chills.

"Something wrong?"

Kiana shook her head. Why worry about a dinky little hatchet if Wolves could just as easily rip her face off with their bare teeth?

Aaaaand that right there was a thought I seriously could have done without. Thanks a lot, self.

She closed the tent and returned to the safety of Dorin's arm. "Let's keep looking."

The other Wolves kept throwing mean looks their way, but none of them actually tried anything, despite Dorin's obvious injuries.

The next tent down the line didn't have anything of value in it, but its neighbour was a different story.

"Oh, pay dirt!" Kiana exclaimed as she lifted the flaps and stepped inside.

This wasn't a sleeping tent, but a supply tent. There was a small pile of bedrolls and blankets neatly arranged in one corner. A stack of crates (the top one was partly open and overflowing with hammers, nails, ropes, pliers, and all kinds of carpentry and smithing tools). Rolls of linens. A bundle of beeswax candles tied together with twine. Some lanterns. A jar of honey. Some cooking oil. A box of hinges. A very questionable-looking bottle hidden inside an old leather boot (probably stashed there by some Fox who liked to take full advantage of his breaks). A barrel full of apples (too bad the Wolves didn't like anything other than meat) and a barrel that once contained oranges, but was now home to a bouquet of bent and broken pickaxes. There was a lonely whetstone sitting atop a single chair in the corner, and Kiana had a brief flash in her mind's eye of a Fox sitting there, dutifully sharpening knives, hatchets and pickaxes, occasionally taking a nip from his hidden bottle of boot booze.

"You find anything?" Dorin's voice drifted in from outside. She could see his silhouette through the rippling canvas skin.

"Yeah, lots!"

"Okay, you get what you need, I'll stay out here and keep an eye out. Just in case."

"Thanks, Dorin."

Kiana crouched down (her knees were beginning to give her merry hell, and she suspected they'd only get worse as the months went by) and began to gather up the blankets, surprised, as always, by how heavy they were once you got a good armful of them weighing you down all at once.

She sat down heavily in the chair, knocking the whetstone to the ground, and contemplated the stack of blankets in her lap, wondering if she should just carry them like this or empty out a box for them. Or maybe even one of the barrels. That should work, too.

These aren't just blankets. They're something more.

Kiana knew this instinctively, even if any attempts at putting those feelings into words always reduced them into something that seemed criminally inconsequential, almost stupid.

Just some blankets. It's like Dorin said. Probably most Wolves won't give a rat's ass. Some might even get angry.

Then let them get angry. That's fine, too. Just as long as they see what we're doing. Just as long as they feel what we're doing.

The blankets. The fires. The bowls of soup. The stitches. The bandages. They were all part of the same thing, something bigger than the sum of its components.

They were kindness, shelter, maybe even forgiveness. Something to take into the next morning, when the storm finally blows over and the sun spreads a blanket of light over the valley once again.

Kiana knew she couldn't afford to just sit here, hugging a pile of blankets to her chest, but the trials of this endless night were finally catching up with her. She didn't fall asleep (the image of waking to her mother standing over her, her hands on her hips, belching smoke and flame, was a very effective deterrent to that), but she did lay her head down on the soft, springy layers and take a moment to be still. Just one moment. Sitting here, in this shabby tent, was the first time she'd had a moment to think about everything that'd happened. A single moment to reflect, to get it out of her system and move on, at least until the time could come when she could be still again.

So she thought. She thought about all those corpses inside the pass. She thought about Ander. She thought about Hezzi. She thought about Shekka and Banno. She thought about her sister, her mother, her father. She thought about Sarah. She thought about everyone who had survived and was still fighting to survive. She thought about all the pain, all the suffering, all the sadness and hatred swirling around outside, just like the snowflakes riding the wind. She thought about the life inside her womb. She thought about the future. She thought about all these things, not trying to control them or direct them, just weather them, letting one thought jump to the next.

Ruka, screaming her sister's name, so detached from reality she could no longer tell where she was or even when she was, asking the same question over and over and over again, hoping that, if she asked enough times, maybe she could finally get a different response.

The misty Wolfess with the sapphire eyes, sleeping on the cold, hard ground, away from the fires, away from everyone. So scared, and yet so angry. A cold embrace, not returned, but denied. All she wanted was to be left alone so she could hate in peace.

Dark faces. Sad faces. Angry faces. Crying faces. Reaching hands and reaching questions.

Why?

Why did you have to kill us?

Why did you have to snuff us out like candles in the wind?

Kiana could feel her heart tearing itself in two, trying to answer those questions.

I killed you because you are monsters. I killed you because I wanted to protect my family. I killed you because you came to kill us.

Then why do you cry?

I cry because you are not monsters. I cry because I tore your families apart. I cry because, as much as you came to kill us, I think you came to kill yourselves as well.

If life is love and love is pain, then you need hope to keep going. Otherwise, all that will be left is an emptiness of your own creation, a dark, bleeding hole you scratch into your own heart, hallowing it out day by day over the passage of years.

Was a bunch of blankets and a warm smile enough to heal a wound as painful as that? No, of course not.

But it was a start, wasn't it?

Kiana was finally beginning to calm down a little. She wiped the unspilled tears from the corners of her eyes and watched the shadows play across the canvass of the tent. The firelight shone across at an angle from this distance, so all the shapes were faded and stretched out on a slant, making it difficult to figure out what exactly she was looking at. There were big swaths of shadows flowing from one side to the other, changing the walls to black. It only lasted for an instant, and then the light came streaming back again. It wasn't a warm light. It was a dull, throbbing, brownish orange. A dirty kind of light, tainted by smoke, dirt, and frost. Every wrinkle and irregularity stood out as greyish lines, like forked lightning in a diseased, cloudy sky. Thinner shadows whipped back and forth, becoming darker and more solid the closer they came to the tent, but also more distorted, elongating into wickedly sharp spikes before fading away again. Branches in the wind.

If she looked hard, she could even make out the faint shapes of snowflakes striking the tent, like tiny pieces of ash drifting down from a forest fire. It was oddly captivating. The greys, overlapping to form blacks, and the blacks, fusing together into splashes of inky darkness, coming closer and closer and -

Kiana sat up straight and frowned at the canvass. For just a second there she thought she saw something that was neither branch nor random, formless shadow, but something with a more solid shape, something she recognised. It was gone now, but she was certain...

No, her tired, sleep-deprived mind was probably just playing tricks on her. And she had been looking at the thing sideways. It could have been anything at all. Or nothing at all.

Kiana sat perfectly still regardless, staring at that dull, throbbing skin of light, looking for that dark spot, that subtle, shifting shadow that didn't belong.

Ten seconds passed, then twenty, and still nothing happened. Maybe she just nodded off for a while without realising it? It wouldn't surprise her. She hadn't had any sleep for at least... what? Twenty hours? Twenty-one?

She wiped her eyes (they were stingy from all the crying she did earlier), and when she dropped her hands it was right there - a deep, black shape rising up against the side of the tent, an absence of light, dripping shadows instead of blood, shaggy spikes protruding from every inch of its horribly distorted body. The sound of heavy breathing, clogged with layers of mucus, came through in a deathly rattle.

Kiana stood up so quickly that the blankets tumbled out of her lap and spilled all over the floor. She backed away, but her feet got tangled and she fell down with a painful bump. With a scream already working its way up her throat, she looked up, certain that whatever that thing was, that black shadow, that shape with the spikes and the wet, dripping maw, it would be standing right above her, melting through the tent somehow, reaching for her with arms like tree branches, claws like knives, ready to grab and -

There was nothing there. Nothing at all. Just the rhythmic pulse of the firelight shining against the wall of the tent, with the occasional shadow flitting across its wavy, rippling skin.

Kiana put a hand to her chest and allowed the pent up scream to slide out of her lungs as a shuddering sigh.

What on earth did I just -

And then a scream really did tear through the camp, but it didn't come from her, it came from outside - a long, wailing shriek.

Kiana kicked the blankets off her feet and twisted around. There were shapes rushing past the entrance of the tent, hulking shapes that could only belong to Wolves.

"What's going on?" she heard Dorin ask.

"They're gonna kill 'em, is what's goin on!"

"Kill who?"

"Everybody!"

Kiana got up and very quietly made her way to the front, walking on tiptoes. "Dorin? Are you still there?"

He stuck his big head into the tent. "Stay here!"

"I- Wait, what?"

"Stay here and don't move a muscle until I come back for you!"

"Oh hell no!"

"Stay!"

He started to pull back and Kiana grabbed a fistful of his floppy ear. "Not so fast, mister!"

"Ow! Kiana, by the Cora, my ear!"

"What is going -" Something outside fell over with a resounding crash that made her fur stand on end. Screams and shouts filled the air, but she couldn't make out if they were born of pain or anger. It was just noise. "What is going on out there?"

She released his ear and Dorin looked down the path, chewing nervously on his lip. "I have an idea, but I hope I'm wrong."

She heard the sound of breaking glass and suddenly the light grew brighter, as if someone had added oil to the fires, turning the skin of the tent from a drab orange to a pulsating yellow.

Kiana stood up on tiptoes so she could peek over Dorin's back. This only afforded her a very thin glimpse of the tent on the opposite side of the row, but a moment later three Wolves streaked by in flashes of dark colours, and Kiana shrank back into the shadows. Even Dorin hunched over to hide his face.

Kiana waited for their footfalls to disappear completely before she dared to breathe again. "Dorin, are they attacking?Are they attacking us?" The moment those words left her lips, before Dorin could even begin to answer, the full implications of that question struck her like a hammer blow to the heart. "Oh my gods, my family!"

Kiana started forward, but Dorin forcefully shoved her back inside. "No, you hide here! I'll go for help."

"Are you insane? I'm a sitting duck in here! I'll be much safer with you!"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, but..." He winced and placed a hand over his ribcage, where the spots of blood were slowly but surely starting to converge into a single dark cloud. "I don't think I'll be able to keep you or anyone else safe tonight."

"But then... then..." Kiana didn't know what to do. The voices were rising, becoming louder. A steady drone to undercut the bloodcurdling screams and deep, furious shouts. She still didn't know what exactly was going on out there, but it couldn't be anything good, and she didn't want to send Dorin out there into who-knows-what if he could barely stand, but neither did she want to cower in this hole like a frightened little mouse while a horde of savage Wolves might be closing in on her family this very moment.

But we dug them out of the snow... We gave them food, shelter... We tried to_help _them...

Kiana looked down at the profusion of blankets scattered around the floor of the tent, all rumpled and dusty.

"Hey." Dorin placed a hand on her shoulder. "I hate speeches, and we don't have time for one anyway, so -"

A huge shape crashed into him from the side, wrenching him out of view. For a moment she was able to see his hand, just as scratched and haggard as her own, before it disappeared between the flaps of the tent.

"Dorin!"

"I got 'im!" a strange voice yelled. "I got the backroller! I got the - Hoorf!"

"Get off me!"

Kiana rushed outside without a second thought, but even in her haste to help Dorin, she couldn't keep from stopping dead in her tracks and staring, open-mouthed, at what was happening all around her.

She now understood exactly what Dorin had meant by 'hunger'.

Wolves were running in all directions, sprinting so quickly that they were little more than flashes of movement in the gaps between the tents. She spied one of them lurching along with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, screaming at the sky while blood dribbled down his arm. Another was walking down the path with a smoking length of firewood in his hands, smashing everything in sight: tents, barrels, empty crates. He even took a swing at one of his fellows as he came darting around a corner.

This madness could only hold Kiana's attention for a moment, however, before the sounds of wet, gargling snarls and ripping clothes reminded her of why she came storming out here in the first place.

Dorin was down on the ground, wrestling with another Wolf, this one with light, sandy fur. He chomped down on Dorin's arm and shook his head from side to side, tearing into muscle and sinew with jagged teeth. Dorin returned the favour, biting down on the sandy Wolf's wrist. It made a horrific cracking sound, like a bundle of twigs being snapped over a strong knee.

Kiana gasped in shock and covered her mouth to stifle a scream. Clumps of snow and sand stuck to their fur as they rolled around, vying for position, snarling like animals. Blood stained their mouths dark red.

Two more Wolves came dashing into the path, their claws dripping with blood.

The sandy Wolf opened his jaws just long enough to scream: "Help me, it's the backroller!" before slamming them shut on Dorin's bleeding arm again.

"Stop it!" Kiana screamed, feeling small, less than small, feeling like she didn't even exist. "Just stop it!"

Dorin spat out the sandy Wolf's arm (Kiana nearly lost her gorge when she noticed the way his wrist flopped at an unnatural angle, trailing blood droplets through the air in a crimson arc) and clocked him right in the face. A single bloody tooth rolled across the ground, but before it could come to a complete stop, one of the newcomers came sprinting in, lifting his foot and -

"Dorin, look out!"

It was already too late. The new Wolf stomped down right on top of Dorin's injured back. Dorin screamed and collapsed into a writhing heap, clawing uselessly at the foot pushing him down.

Kiana drew in breath to scream again, and that's when the third Wolf came and kicked Dorin right in the face.

"Stop it!" Kiana shrieked. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this!? Just stop! Please, just stop!"

They kept kicking him. Kicking and stomping, stomping and kicking, yelling curses and insults she didn't understand, ignoring her completely until she grabbed one by the arm and wrenched him away.

"Leave him alone!"

The Wolf spared her a single glance, lifted his foot to resume his stomping, then did a double take. "Hey, it's you!" he said, pointing a gnarled finger at her face. Strands of bloody fur clung to his tacky claws. "You're the horn-blower!"

Kiana retreated, knowing it was already too late, knowing there was no way she could possibly outrun a Wolf. She felt the slightly yielding wall of the tent pushing against her back. This was it. This was as far as she could go.

"You killed my friends, you bitch!" he yelled. "My best friends!" He opened his mouth and Kiana saw all those teeth lining his gums, all those miniature knives just waiting to clamp shut around her throat. She shied away, raising her arms in a futile effort to protect herself, knowing it wouldn't do any good, knowing that he could snap her bones without any effort at all, knowing that -

Dorin popped up out of nowhere, wound his arms underneath the toothy Wolf's arms and clasped his hands together behind his neck, cinching the hold tight. This feat was made all the more impressive by the fact that the third Wolf was hanging off Dorin's back, biting down on his shoulder and dragging his claws across his chest, ripping at the bandages and growling through a frothy mouthful of blood and drool.

"Kiana!" All three of them crashed to the ground in a flailing mess of limbs, each one determined to not give any quarter. The Wolf at the front kicked out randomly and tried to reach up over his head to get at Dorin's face, but Dorin was doing a good job of keeping well clear of those reaching claws. The Wolf on his back was trying to wrap his legs around his midsection.

"Run, Kiana!" Dorin yelled, grinding his teeth against the pain. "Just get out of here!"

Kiana couldn't do that. There was no way she could do that. She had come too far, had worked too hard, had sacrificed too much to abandon a friend now.

She turned around and flailed at the entrance of the tent until she found the seam and burst inside. It felt like her heart was about to explode.

She reached for the barrel of broken pickaxes in the corner, but pulled her hand away in horror at the unnatural cold of that metal spike against her fingers. Cracking someone's skull open with that thing was something she didn't want to do. She refused to.

"Something, something..." she muttered under her breath, wringing her hands. She could hear terrible sounds just outside, demonic growling and tearing, horribly wet, horribly painful.

Anything!

Time was up. Kiana reached into the dirty old boot and pulled out the hidden bottle of wine (still half full). It sloshed around as she turned it over and gripped it by the neck, feeling like a little child - no, like an insect - about to do battle with a monster.

A bloodcurdling scream rang out just outside the tent and Kiana knew she simply didn't have a choice in the matter. It was either do something, or do nothing. Attempt to save, or wait to die. The choice was quite obvious, really.

She held the bottle out in front of her like a dagger and rushed outside, pushing the tent's flaps apart with her shoulder.

Dorin was down on his back, trying his best to cover his face while his attacker pinned him down with his legs and rained punches down from above. The other two were out of commission; one completely unconscious, the other curled up into a tight little ball, rolling from side to side while he clutched at his gushing nose, whimpering gurgled curses and pleas for help.

"You damn backroller!" The remaining Wolf shouted, punching and clawing at Dorin's arms. "You like that, huh!? You like rolling over for these Foxes, huh!? You like having your belly scratched, is that it, huh!? Huh!?"

Kiana walked up behind him, raised the bottle high above her head, and brought it down with all the force she could muster.

She expected the bottle to shatter over his head, but that's not exactly what happened. It glanced off the top of his skull with an almost comical sound (Donk!), bringing blood almost instantly. It started out as just a little spot, but then bloomed into a solid stream running down the side of his face. He looked back over his shoulder, absolutely incredulous, and Kiana couldn't do anything but stand there like a pup caught red-handed, the bloody bottle shaking in her hands.

"You..." the Wolf whispered. "Why... you... little... BITCH!!"

He started to get up and Kiana brought the bottle down again, right between his eyes. This time it did shatter, spraying the Wolf's face with about seven and a half shots' worth of wine. He swayed in place for a second, two different shades of red seeping into his fur, and collapsed to the ground in a cloud of dust and glittering shards of glass.

Kiana stood perfectly still, staring down at the broken bottleneck in her hands, at the way the wickedly sharp points sparkled in the firelight, dripping wine down her fingers.

"Ki... ahh..."

"Oh by the gods, Dorin!" She nearly tossed the broken bottle aside, then opted to clamp it between her teeth instead, knowing full well that Mother (maybe even Father) would pop a vessel if they ever saw her running around like this.

She dropped down to her knees by Dorin's side to inspect the damage. His bandages were all ripped, and she could clearly see where patches of his fur and skin had been completely sloughed off. Bites and scratches everywhere, all of varying ages. Blood pooled around his body, seeping into the dirt and melting through random clumps of dusty snow. But despite this, he was smiling.

"Damn, Kiana..." he said through a mouthful of bloody teeth. "That's some arm you have..."

"Shuh uh!" she mumbled around the bottle and grabbed him underneath the arms. There was no way she could drag him all the way to the medical tent like this, but at least she could get him off the path. She bit down on the glass and began to backpedal, digging furrows in the ground with her feet and arching her already aching back. After what felt like an age, they began to move.

Oh gods up in heaven it's like I'm dragging a dead horse through a swamp!

"Kia... what're you...?"

"Shuh uh! I rying oo hel ooh!"

"Oh..."

Two more Wolves burst onto the path, but they were far too busy with each other to pay them any mind. They grappled with each other even as they crashed and rolled out of sight, ripping a tent clear of its moorings and dragging it along with them.

What on earth was happening!?

Kiana spared a moment to look to the centre of the basecamp, hoping to spot Mother somewhere, or at least some of the male Foxes (preferably the ones with the big crossbows) but the place was surprisingly devoid of life, both of the Wolf and Fox variety. She did spy one lone Wolf by the fires, though. He had a box of oil lanterns at his feet and was chucking them into the flames one by one, watching as the tongues of fire shot up into the starless sky, laughing and crying at the same time.

She found the seam of the tent with her heel and dragged Dorin through, panting and heaving. When she got him all the way inside, she took the bottle out of her mouth and cracked her back, wincing at the dull throb spreading through her body. "Dorin? Dorin are you okay?"

No response.

"Okay... Okay, um..." She gathered some of the blankets together into a pile and used them to prop him up a bit. Throughout the process he kept drifting in and out of consciousness, regarding her with bleary eyes.

"Kiana...?"

"It's okay, Dorin. Don't talk. Just... just take it easy, okay? Just -"

He took her hand. His grip was so weak. "Kiana. There's something I have to tell you. I know I said I don't like speeches, but everything's getting kind of fuzzy, and in my experience that means I'm probably going to pass out soon... so I'd really appreciate it if you took a minute to listen." Dorin closed his eyes. Took a long, slow breath. Opened them again. "A circle is being drawn... There is a fight coming, Kiana. A new fight. Maybe bigger than the one Ander started. Maybe bigger than the one you stopped."

"What?" The shouts were getting louder. More voices were adding their weight to the rumble outside. The entire camp was beginning to sound just like the pass in the moments before she blew on that horn. The terrible thunder of all those voices rolling over each other, all the more terrifying for the fact that they could not be seen. "No... No, you must be mistaken. After everything we've -"

A bloodcurdling scream rang out just a few rows down and Kiana clapped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes on reflex, as if blocking out the sound might somehow negate the cause of it as well.

"Kiana." She felt his gigantic hand on her shoulder once again, so unexpectedly gentle, and she opened her eyes. "We do not deserve the kindness of your people," he said. "Even after receiving it, seeing it, feeling it, we cannot accept it, nor return any kindness of our own. Savagery is the only way we know."

"But that's not true!" Kiana said. "You're not like that! You're not like that at all! You're -"

"Different?" He smiled, and it was the saddest smile Kiana had ever seen. "You may think the battle was fought and won inside the pass, but you are wrong. It is still raging on, even now, but instead of fighting with spears and axes, this battle is being fought with acts of kindness, with blankets and food, with soft voices, with warm fires and soft, gentle hands." He took one of her scratched, scabby hands in his own. "The battlefield has moved from the mountain's gullet and into the heart and soul of every Wolf you risked your lives to save. Some of us, maybe even most of us, cannot handle such a thing. We see how much you're doing for us, how different you are, and it scares us. It terrifies us. That fear turns every smile, every touch, every ounce of concern into an attack, and we have no choice but to lash out, to fight back, to try and protect ourselves, to preserve who we are. That is why the battle is spilling over again, back into the real world. The conflict within us is too great. Each side screaming, threatening to tear us apart from the inside."

"Dorin, are you saying...?" A terrible realisation was beginning to form inside her mind, pieced together by his words.

Dorin nodded gravely. "We aren't fighting the Foxes, Kiana. We are fighting each other. We are fighting ourselves..."

That finally brought it all home, turning the noise, the screams, the violence into something that made perfect sense. It was as if she had been looking at the world through a layer of distorted glass, but now everything snapped into focus. Even the shouts, which had been little more than random words without rhyme or reason, now became clear.

"Stop it! This is wrong!"

"You're wrong! Everyone here is wrong! This whole place is wrong!"

"Just calm down!"

"I can't! I didn't come here to be calm! I came here to fight! To live!"

"You can live without fighting, you idiot!"

"Tell that to my son! These bastards killed him! They murdered him!"

"That's not- Put it down, Zahji! I mean it!"

"No! You stay the hell away from me! I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you! You and your Fox friends!"

"Just put it down!"

Everywhere, more and more shouts could be heard, more pieces of conversation falling into place.

"Are you okay? Holy hell this is crazy!"

"I'm good, I'm good..."

"You're bleeding!"

"Nah, this is fine, it's fine... I'm fine..."

"Hey, you doing okay? Hey! Not here, please not here! Hey! Come on!"

"I'm sorry..."

"Just lean on me, okay? We'll get out of this!"

More. More. And even more. Too many to listen to. Too many to count. A hundred different exchanges in a hundred different locations.

"But they killed her, Torjo! They killed my girl!"

"They didn't do anything of the sort, Klemmen."

"I saw them! I saw them dig out Talayni, and she was alive! Then, not two minutes later, they dug out my Nahma, but she was dead! Why did Talayni get to live while my Nahma had to die!?"

"I don't- I don't know, Klemmen, just- You're making everything worse!"

"Answer me! Why did they let my girl die!?"

"They tried to save her!"

"That's not good enough! I want her back, do you hear me!? I want my daughter back! Give her back! Give her back to me! Give her baaaack!!"

Screams. Screams of agony. Screams of pain. Screams of terrible sadness.

"Skin them! Skin them all!"

"Leave them alone!"

"You damn backroller!"

Some Wolves had won the battle inside themselves, and some had lost.

Some wanted peace, and some wanted vengeance.

Some wanted to leave the Foxes alone, and some wanted to hurt them.

Some wanted to kill them.

"Dorin, what should we -"

Dorin's eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.

"Dorin?" Kiana pressed her ear against his nose. At first there was nothing, but then she felt the warmth of his breath. He was still alive, but he wasn't doing very well. She sat back and chewed on her nails, wondering what to do. She wanted to find her family. She wanted to see Mother and Father and Layla and Hezzi, but she couldn't just leave Dorin here, could she? And toddling into that warzone all by herself might not be the smartest thing, either.

"Oh gods, what do I do? What do I do!?" She pulled at her hair in frustration, trying to think of a plan. "Okay, okay... be logical, be smart, be anything other than a screaming hysterical vixen... okay, okay... um..."

Kiana grabbed the broken bottle and inspected the sharp edges. She needed a weapon, but she wasn't sure if this thing would cut it. The shards were barely longer than her index finger, for one, and she doubted it would be good for more than one stab. Also, most Wolves could probably slap this right out of her hands before she could come close.

She hurried over to the boxes and crates stacked up against the far side of the tent and began to rummage through them. "Come on, come on! Stupid junk!" She tossed rolls of linens over her shoulder. Sifted through layers of apples and oranges. A box of hinges tipped over and spilled its contents all over the ground in a tingling crash. She stuck her hand into a tangled mess of rope and pulled out a bundle of beeswax candles. She stared at them for a moment, imagining herself facing a swarm of bloodthirsty Wolves with naught but these in her hands, shouting: Begone, foul creatures, lest I unleash the awesome power of scented candles upon ye!

She shook her head and tossed them aside, not quite sure if the bubbling sensation she was trying so hard to supress was hysterical laughter or hysterical sobs. She could not afford either right now.

She pried a piece of wood from a crate with her bare fingers, examined the splintery end, then tossed that aside, too. She'd need something a bit heftier. Something with a bit more oomph.

She looked up and spied one of the broken pickaxes leaning drunkenly over the lip of a barrel.

No, Kiana. You'll straight up murder somebody with one of those.

Well I need something_, damn it! Even if it's just a big old bluff, I need_ something_!_

She grabbed one by the neck, feeling a dim ray of hope for the first time in ages, but that hope quickly evaporated once she realised how damn heavy this freaking thing was. She held it with both hands (one near the head and one near the bottom) and gave it an experimental little swing, nearly impaling her foot because she couldn't get the damn thing to stop and it ended up punching a hole right through the bottom of the tent, exposing the earth beneath.

"Oh, for the love of..." She sank down to her knees, shocked by how winded that single swing had left her. She took a deep breath, "Okay..." and blew it out again, slowly, allowing herself time to gather her thoughts.

She needed a weapon to protect herself and her baby. She needed to get back to her family. She needed to find someone who could help her move Dorin, if possible. Those were the important things to keep in mind right now.

Weapon... Weapon...

The hatchet!

Kiana's eyes widened as she remembered the hatchet just two tents down the line. It was a tiny little thing, more useful for lopping branches than felling whole trees, but at least she'd be able to swing it without spinning herself around like some lopsided top. And maybe, if she was lucky, she wouldn't have to fight at all. She could brandish the thing and any Wolf with even a modicum of intelligence would know she simply wasn't worth the risk of losing a finger or a hand or possibly something even more important.

"Okay! I got this! I got this!"

She scrambled to Dorin's side, feeling lower than pond scum. She hated to just leave him like this, but what good could she possibly do by staying here?

"I'm sorry, Dorin," she said, lightly brushing the hair from his forehead. "I'm gonna go get help, okay?" She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you for everything. I'll be right back."

She stood up, slapped the wrinkles out of her dress, and waited to see if her emotions were going to act up again. She felt a bit barfy, but other than that she thought she'd be okay, so she made her way to the front of the tent, taking slow, deep breaths.

She stopped at the seam and perked her ears. Lots of shouting. Lots of screaming. There was an unsettling rumble in the air as well. She could actually feel it through her shoes; a dull throb, like a heartbeat. And far away, in stark contrast to all the other sounds, barely loud enough to be heard, was the sound of weeping.

She took the seam and parted it just a crack, just enough to be able to see outside. The path seemed to be clear (for now, at least), but there was a grey haze crawling along the dirt she didn't care for at all, a misty vapour that carried the acrid smell of smoke. Something was -

A hand closed around her wrist like a shackle of iron, soaked in blood and tipped with pitch black claws as sharp as knives.

Kiana's scream echoed throughout the basecamp, but was quickly lost among the screams of a dozen others; screams of pain and fear in this endless night.