Loss - Part 2

As she stared in terrified fascination at the intruding dark claws, it occurred to the little she-cub that the hand might belong to a tribesman come to find her. She opened her mouth to speak, but a powerful feeling of caution rose within her, warning her to silence. The hand paused in its search, then withdrew, claw tips scraping on the moldering bark, and the child heard the creature moving quietly away.

Wary of a trick, the child remained where she was, unwilling to leave her hiding place. Shortly after, distant roared shouts came to the little she'cub's ears.

"Cub! Little one! Where are you?"

Still, something warned her to stay put. It was only when she heard the calls coming from very close by did she dare venture from her refuge.

"Here! Here I am!"

Several figures yowled answering calls, emerging from the surrounding woods and she caught the familiar scent of some of her tribesfolk. A burly chested male she recognized immediately as Mar'gesh, her tribe's Hunt Mo'at, spotted her and hurried forward to take her into his arms. Mar'gesh was a very grim male, with little time or patience for young ones, and under normal circumstances the she-cub would have been afraid of him. The relieved look on his distraught face at the sight of her won her over, however, and she held out her arms to him, allowing him to pick her up.

He cuddled her protectively to his chest a moment in a very uncharacteristic display of gentleness, then looked into her eyes. "Are you all right, young one?" he asked.

The cub nodded, and a brief smile fleetingly crossed his face.

"That is something, at least," he rumbled. "Here," he continued, turning to hand her to Mar'lo, the anu'at's eldest son. "You think you can carry her back to the village, young Ro'at?"

Mar'lo nodded without hesitation. He had just made his kill to become a Ro'at not long before. At only fourteen turns of the seasons, he was among the youngest to become a hunter for the People, a fact that made both he and his father, Shas'tan, extremely proud. He settled the child against his hip, wrapping an arm securely about her. "I can carry her, Hunt Mo'at," he replied.

Mar'gesh nodded approval. He motioned to the others. "Then let us return to the village."

"Wait!" the she-cub cried. "My mother and father! We must look for them!"

Only then did she make out the forms others in the group were picking up from the grass. Forms draped with leathers over their faces. With a cry, she struggled free of Mar'lo and ran over to the shrouded figures, and falling to her knees, pulled the leather aside.

"Ma'van'tan!" she wept, seeing her mother's still face. "No! Wake up! We have to go home!" She angrily jerked the drape away from her father's face. "Ma'van'te! Get up! Please! You have to get up!" She pleaded and sobbed, her tiny paws patting their faces, then rocked herself back and forth, her face buried in her hands, keening with grief while her tribesmates stood ringed silently and sorrowfully around her.

After a moment, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She looked up into Mar'gesh's mournful face, tears streaming down her own. "Child," he said gently. "Your parents are with Sa'uuk now." He held out a hand to her. "Come."

The she-cub looked back down at her parents, nuzzling their cheeks before gently laying the drapes back over their faces.

Mar'gesh picked her up. Mar'lo came forward to take her, but the Hunt Mo'at motioned him to help the other Ro'ats carry their two fallen tribesfolk, then turned and headed home.

To be continued...