Wanheda Part 1

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The bark is rough and texture beneath my palm as I crouch on the limb. My free hand secures a knife close to my chest. The weight of the blade is one of few comforts I can acquire. My breathing is slow and even as I wait patiently for my prey to take the bait. A thick rabbit has been tied to a stake beneath me and the tree. The rabbit scrambles to get away, I am about to snicker when I hear a low growl of a cat. My eyes scan the forest below and I see a black figure dance between the leaves of the brush.

The large cat slowly edges closer, as if it senses the trap. Once the great cat is below me I spring. My body braces for impact as I fall through the air. Bliss tugs at my heart as my midnight black hair is drawn up from my shoulders by the wind. I direct my knife at the cat and rip my blade down toward the earth. The cat snarls in pain as my knife plunges between its shoulder blades. My body follows the dagger, hitting the cat and rolling with me a few feet away. I scramble for my knife as the cat advances. In a moment the cat pounces and the dagger is in my hands angled out in front of me. When the cat attacks it earns a blade directly to its heart.

My head hits the ground hard and I wince as the cat's body lays over mine. I grunt with effort as I push it away, the soft fur now matted with blood that tinges the air with a metallic scent. I glance down at the cat's body, strong and muscular. Another life to add to the list of those I've taken. Pain tugs at my heart as I place a hand over the cat's heart and the other over my own.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," I mutter in trigedasleng, it means your fight is over.

I dig vines from the earth and tie a noose of sorts and wrap it over the cat's head. I secure another to tie the legs together and secure the cat to a makeshift sled made with three planks of wood. I begin to drag the cat's body to the outpost where a friend lives. Through the trees I see a trikru man leaving the outpost. I wait for the man to be out of sight before dragging the cat through the front door.

"Good kill." The owner of the outpost greets me in trigedaslang.

"Thanks... the usual supplies."

"You always come right after my father leaves. Good timing." Niylah grunts as she drags the cat to the back room where she prepares the kill for eating.

"I'm in a hurry." I smile.

"Right as always." Niylah always asks me to stay for supper or some tea but I always refuse, preferring to go on my own.

"The meat from your last kill." Niylah walks out with a crate full of wrapped meat from the deer I killed a few days ago. "Salted and dried, minus our share."

Niylah pushes a bottle over the table along with the meat.

"What's that?"

"A drink for while you wait," Niylah says before pouring me a glass.

When Niylah lifts her arm to our I notice the cuff on her wrist. It's similar to that the chancellor gave the 100 when they sent us to the ground all those months ago. She promises to be quick with the rest before disappearing to the back. I check the meat quickly before walking around the outpost.

"So what did you decide?" Niylah asks as she re-emerges from the back rooms. "I told you. I owe you more than this. Pick something."

Before I can decline her offer I grab her wrist and hold it up, exposing the cuff. I look her dead in the eyes and she stares back at me blankly.

"Tell me about this."

Before Niylah can wander the door swings wide open. I release her hand and step away, turning my face to the wall. My hands absentmindedly fiddle with random objects to look busy. I listen to the footsteps and hear two men walk inside, their boots echoing differently off the wooden floors and walls.

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