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This is an in-progress story I'm sort of posting while I write. I'm going to try to push out an update once a week or as my schedule allows. I'm experimenting in a number of ways, so hopefully it turns out well.
The distinct smell of freshly spilled blood and sweat filled the morning air of the Chondalwood, as it often did. Feral growls and roars filled the air as razor claws and rough hide contended to see which would yield first. To any onlookers, and there were many, the fight was hardly fair; a large grizzly bear fighting off the assault of a lone wolf. Though the wolf had the natural advantage of speed, its claws and teeth were not nearly competing with the hide and raw power of the bear. In a pack, the wolf would surely have stood a chance, but this was not that kind of fight.
However, in this case the wolf was very lucky that it was not that kind of fight, for the bear stopped just short of snapping the wolf’s neck with its jaw, just as victory had been assured. The wolf whimpered in submission and backed off. The two animals backed off. Their forms changed slowly into that of hin, a dramatic change for both, but even more so for the former bear. Though they both had wounds, it was clear to all gathered who the victor was. No one was particularly surprised. Out of all the children in the tribe, Darian was the only one to have mastered bear form, and some argued that she rivaled some of the adults in her proficiency.
Darian folded his arms over his chest. “You never stood a chance. You should have learned by now not to pick a fight with someone who is clearly your superior.” His opponent could only grunt in resentment. It was the rule of the tribe. Disputes were settled by combat, in whichever forms or with whatever weapons the combatants deemed most likely to secure victory. In the heart of the Chondalwood, this was the way they ensured survival. Through constant internal conflict, they made themselves strong enough to handle any external threats they might encounter in their travels.
A simple healing spell was enough to heal Darian’s wounds, though his opponent would require more intensive treatment. Darian was not known for holding back. His philosophy was that if he beat his opponent down hard enough, they wouldn’t get back up to try again, a philosophy that had nearly killed more than one of his opponents. In one notable case, the adults had been forced to stop the fight, a rarity in the tribe. Most of the children participated in mere play fighting or at worst intense sparring. By comparison, Darian fought like his life was on the line. In truth, it was his pride, which was nearly as invaluable to him.
Darian collected his prize, a rare herb the two had disputed rights over, and retreated to his tent. Despite the victory, he was in a foul mood. “Weaklings should just lay down and accept the life that’s been given to them. They’re a waste of my time,” he thought. He looked over the herb dispassionately. He didn’t really care about its usefulness; only its value. After brooding a bit more and massaging his sore bones, he walked to another nearby tent. He tossed the herb to the occupant.
“Usual deal.” He stated it as a simple fact.
The man nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll have the meat delivered later today. Did you really find this first?” He questioned.
“That’s what the fight said.”
The man frowned. “One of these days you’re going to lose, you know.”
“The day I lose will be the day I die, old man.”
“Gods above, I hope not, kid.”
The distinct smell of freshly spilled blood and sweat filled the morning air of the Chondalwood, as it often did. Feral growls and roars filled the air as razor claws and rough hide contended to see which would yield first. To any onlookers, and there were many, the fight was hardly fair; a large grizzly bear fighting off the assault of a lone wolf. Though the wolf had the natural advantage of speed, its claws and teeth were not nearly competing with the hide and raw power of the bear. In a pack, the wolf would surely have stood a chance, but this was not that kind of fight.
However, in this case the wolf was very lucky that it was not that kind of fight, for the bear stopped just short of snapping the wolf’s neck with its jaw, just as victory had been assured. The wolf whimpered in submission and backed off. The two animals backed off. Their forms changed slowly into that of hin, a dramatic change for both, but even more so for the former bear. Though they both had wounds, it was clear to all gathered who the victor was. No one was particularly surprised. Out of all the children in the tribe, Darian was the only one to have mastered bear form, and some argued that she rivaled some of the adults in her proficiency.
Darian folded his arms over his chest. “You never stood a chance. You should have learned by now not to pick a fight with someone who is clearly your superior.” His opponent could only grunt in resentment. It was the rule of the tribe. Disputes were settled by combat, in whichever forms or with whatever weapons the combatants deemed most likely to secure victory. In the heart of the Chondalwood, this was the way they ensured survival. Through constant internal conflict, they made themselves strong enough to handle any external threats they might encounter in their travels.
A simple healing spell was enough to heal Darian’s wounds, though his opponent would require more intensive treatment. Darian was not known for holding back. His philosophy was that if he beat his opponent down hard enough, they wouldn’t get back up to try again, a philosophy that had nearly killed more than one of his opponents. In one notable case, the adults had been forced to stop the fight, a rarity in the tribe. Most of the children participated in mere play fighting or at worst intense sparring. By comparison, Darian fought like his life was on the line. In truth, it was his pride, which was nearly as invaluable to him.
Darian collected his prize, a rare herb the two had disputed rights over, and retreated to his tent. Despite the victory, he was in a foul mood. “Weaklings should just lay down and accept the life that’s been given to them. They’re a waste of my time,” he thought. He looked over the herb dispassionately. He didn’t really care about its usefulness; only its value. After brooding a bit more and massaging his sore bones, he walked to another nearby tent. He tossed the herb to the occupant.
“Usual deal.” He stated it as a simple fact.
The man nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll have the meat delivered later today. Did you really find this first?” He questioned.
“That’s what the fight said.”
The man frowned. “One of these days you’re going to lose, you know.”
“The day I lose will be the day I die, old man.”
“Gods above, I hope not, kid.”