Hungry like the Rancor

[Cearia Tserta]

The night that Mother Anjali and Sister Cearia had taken their vows, the Clan Mother made it abundantly clear that her Chiorikem, her wife, was not to stray from the settlement for two days. Cearia's duties as leader of the Undead Fires hunters would be managed by her seasoned seconds. It had to be stated because Anjali knew her bonded all too well, sensing that the huntress would leave the next day to hunt to ensure the bellies of the clan were full. The vows she gave to the Clan Mother that night were just as important as the ones Cearia gave to her people since taking the oath of the Undead Fires.

That was unacceptable. The might behind Anjali's words explaining that she would enjoy Cearia on the furs of their bed hadn't quieted the hunter's concerns, but the kiss that followed did. There were no further arguments from her mate and on the third day, Cearia left on expedition.

It was ten days later that Cearia came running into view from the surrounding forests, causing a stir among the clan. She always returned with a confident stride, surrounded by the other hunters with food and provisions not alone and frantic. The sight was strange to her people, but it was clear she was looking for someone, or something.

Cearia knew that Anjali would have sensed that she had returned and with news, but it didn't stop the hunter from scanning the area for signs where Anjali or Iss-Ka may be. The hunters that accompanied her on the latest hunt were a couple hours behind, slowed down with the weight of success. She was the quickest on foot and raced 20 kilometers without break since leaving them. What happened hours ago was too important and she needed the wisdom of the wardens to capitalize on what she had stumbled upon - two young rancors no more than 4 meters tall, were wandering the far side of the canyons. Her group consisted of fine warrior hunters, but none of them were blessed with the ability to tame these majestic creatures. Nor were they equipped to capture them without taking causalities on either side - not with the sacks of meat, leathers and furs they were carrying. The supplies were the priority and needed to be protected.

They fell back and hid, escaping upwind as Cearia counted her blessings that they came across the pair during the day when rancor vision was poorest. Time was of the essence and she ran as fast as she could for aid, knowing she'd be able to pick up the trail when she returned with the wardens.

Unsatisfied that she saw neither her mate or the voritor, Cearia looked to the nearest clan member for guidance.

"Mother Anjali," she gasped out between breaths. "Where ... where is she?"

The night brother lowered his head in respect and pointed towards the river. "The Clan Mother was last seen heading towards the river, Sister Cearia."

She pat his arm in gratitude, relieved that Anjali wasn't too far.

"Is something wrong, Great Sister?" The title started to be used the day she left, a way to honor Cearia's command of the hunters and as the chosen of the Clan Mother.

"No," she answered loud enough for all to hear, despite the breathlessness. She even managed a smile to reassure the people before feet were forced to start moving again.

Her muscles protested because the short stop had fooled them with rest. The ache in pushing them to move elicited a grunt from the hunter, "It's good news. But we must act quickly!"