The Only Law is Survival

Howi woke in the early morning, just before the sun could peek through the overhang of dry grasses that was the door to her family's summer hut. Her tribe, the Kebaran, had moved from their winter caves and rock-shelters near lowland lakes towards the highlands that they called their home in the warmer months. The days of sweltering heat had mostly passed, and now it was a more bearable, sweet summer breeze that wafted through her people's settlement. Though the Kebaran were a highly nomadic people, Howi always felt at home wherever they roamed. The very land of Oros was her home, and as long as she could feel the earth beneath her toes, or see the winds blowing the flora that flourished amongst all of the sentient life, she would always believe that she belonged.

Howi liked waking up early, even earlier than Mother, because that meant she could get a head start on her chores and maybe have more time to play out in the wilderness during the late afternoon before her evening duties. Sometimes, she played with the other kids, or romped with her brother Kono, but she enjoyed wandering through the outlying lands even more. She took Kono with her oftentimes, because he always seemed to understand when Howi wanted to be quiet and just exist with the world around them, or help her scout some beasts. Not for hunting, usually, but just out of curiosity. He was older, and since he was male he got to do such things more often, so admittedly he was better than her at that too. He taught her, though, and whenever they actually interacted with the creatures they watched, Howi always seemed to be a bit better at calming the beasts and returning unscathed than if Kono led the charge. Sometimes, she even walked away from encounters with the wild life of their homeland feeling like she had almost made a friend, a companion. But as often as not she never saw the same animal again. It was fine with her. Howi liked her life, almost everything about it, and although she was always okay with change, she felt like maybe it would be alright if everything could stay like this forever.

It wouldn't.

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The young Kebaran girl grabbed her cloth garment, holding it against her side, the cloth smooth against her bare skin and she crept around the sleeping forms of her mother and father. Foregoing her leather-and-wood sandals, Howi brushed aside the grasses that hung at the door and quietly stepped outside, careful not to wake her family. There weren't many people up yet. Howi liked how quiet everything was this early. She made her way to the washing area, splashing some water on her face, then began scrubbing the accumulated dust and dirt from her legs, arms, and back. Once she was finished, Howi pulled on her light cloth dress, tightening the braided cloth rope around her neck so the dress hung off her shoulders the way she liked it. It made the garment feel more freeing, and she breathed in as a light breeze that had picked up sailed across the hill where the encampment was, twirling and twisting and grabbing at her clothing, sending shivers down her spine as the wind dried the water droplets that still clung to her skin.

She stretched her limbs, and with a determined huff, set off to complete her morning chores, beginning with hoisting water buckets down to the river to collect it's clean, running water. After that, she would brush out her family's tent, help her mother clean their clothing and tools if it was needed, and maybe help gather, wash, and prepare food. All of this had to be done while watching the younger children, and obeying the older ones, and keeping out of trouble and not picking fights and not running off and not daydreaming and--well, pretty much everything. But Howi really wanted to finish early today, in hopes that she and Kono could spend some time walking through the fields and forests nearby, talking. Maybe she could even catch a rabbit or something for food. She'd been working on her hunting skills, and she thought she was definitely improving, so of course she had to show Kono so he could tell her if she did well. A smile on her full lips at the thought, the young girl stopped by her family tent quickly to grab her spear, tying it around her with its braided chord and started down the river to begin her morning duties.

Howi shifted as the cheetah settled, curling up and resting it's head. She gently threaded her fingers underneath it's thin frame, dismayed at how frail the cub felt as she carefully lifted it, the ribs far too easily felt between her fingers. The cat looked at her, seemingly asking 'What are you doing? I was just getting comfortable...' Howi shook her head, shaking a finger idly towards large, questioning brown eyes. "No sleeping yet, little girl," she murmured to it, raising herself to a crouch, poised on the balls of her feet. "Let's find you some food first, alright?" she said encouragingly, and with a nod she rose to her feet. The cheetah's small tail flicked indignantly, obviously still wanting a nap, but all the same it trotted after Howi with a lilt in her pawsteps as the human started off through the grasses again, holding her spear in her hands now.

As they walked, Howi kept an eye out for telltale signs of a mother cheetah, but found none. It seemed that the cub had been without it's mother for a while, judging by how emaciated the poor beast was. She knew that the likelihood of a mother taking back a cub that was so weak, and that may smell of humans, was fairly low even if they could find her. After all, cheetah's were more independent animals than family-oriented ones. So, instead, Howi focused on finding food for the both of them, as her own stomach had started to growl. A little less than an hour later, she had felled two rabbits and one bird with her bola. She'd made it a couple years ago, and it was still one of her favourite weapons. The cheetah twirled around excitedly as Howi offered her the choice of the last rabbit or the bird. She had downed the first rabbit quickly, even though Howi had insisted on cutting up chunks and feeding it to the cheetah herself. She was worried that, if the cub had gulped down the prey in its entirety so quickly after having an empty stomach for so long, the rabbit would just end up regurgitated on the ground. But, with Howi's persistence and skill at flicking away eager leaps and reaching paws, the food was happily digested. The cub picked the bird this time, and Howi quickly plucked the feathers as best she could so the cub could get right to the meat, before skinning her own lunch. She started a small fire, cooking the rabbit as the cheetah dozed, curled at her side, large black nose twitching from the savoury aroma of cooking meat. Howi ate her meal, giving a few more slices to her furry friend, and stamped out the fire hurriedly after the excited cub almost set her tail on fire for the second time. They walked around for a bit, the cheetah playing a game of attack-the-foot, as Howi laughed and squealed when her baby claws got close to flesh. The cheetah never hurt her though, except for a few shallow scratches that were nothing worse than what the girl had gotten from thorns before. They played for a while, napped for a while, spending time together, girl and beast.

"Well, I suppose I better get back," Howi's voice cracked. They had been quiet for a long time now. She lifted her head as she lay on the grass with a small wild cat curled on her stomach. At her words, the cheetah's ears pricked, and it looked up at her face, blinking. "The sun is getting low. I've got evening duties," she murmured, sighing, and let her head fall back on the grass. She didn't want to go. But she knew that if she stayed out too long, her mother would send Kono, or worse, Lokni, after her. If it was Kono, she'd go back to camp joking and laughing, maybe even able to climb a tree or two on the way. If it was Lokni, she'd have to return in immediately, in silence as he reprimanded her--though she might be able to distract him by asking about weapons so he would talk about that for the entire walk home. The girl stirred, and with a disgruntled chirrup the cheetah scrambled off her belly as Howi stood. She gazed at the cheetah for a time, sad to leave. Who was to know if she would ever see her again? Sure, they'd made that weird...almost spiritual? connection when they first met, but....with a sigh, Howi decisively turned on her heel, her long braided hair swishing as she started walking away at a fast pace. The cub behind her let out a startled, distressed sound, and she heard it come padding after her. She ignored it, hoping that by the time she'd made it closer to home that the cheetah would give up. She didn't. Howi got as close to the Kebaran tribe's temporary home as she felt comfortable with a juvenile cheetah as her shadow. The girl turned towards the cheetah, who mewled and jumped about at the attention she was finally giving. Howi held out a hand as the cheetah walked forward to rub against her. "You can't come with me, they'll chase you away or kill you! I guess..." she thought, looking about, "We'll have to hide you." And so, Howi set about collecting as many thick fern fronds, sticks and grasses as she could. She set up a hiding cave for the cheetah a bit further from home, tying pieces together with grasses and weaving a cave that would keep out wind and rain. She made it big, but hidden. It almost looked like a mini version of her family's own home, she thought with a chuckle. Howi reached a hand forward, brushing aside the grassy entrance, beckoning the cheetah inside. She sniffed warily, and finally went in, curling up and mewling after having given the place a thorough sniff. Howi smiled. "Alright, you, now you've gotta stay there okay? Don't follow me," she whispered, hands up in the universal 'I surrender' or 'please stay' gesture. She let the grasses fall back into place, and the cheetah mewled in sadness and poked her head out through the fronds. Sighing, Howi patted her hands on herself, looking for something she could give. She decided to rip off a fraying piece of her dress near her knees. She kind of needed a new cloth dress anyway, this one was getting threadbare. She threw the cloth in at the cheetah, who sniffed it and happily took it in her mouth to bring to a corner of her new hideaway. Nodding, Howi stood and hurried off, hoping to the Great Gods that the little cub wouldn't try to follow her and end up a pelt in the tanning hut.

Weeks passed, and the cheetah cub was growing. Howi had named her Ama, meaning water, because of how graceful the young wildcat was becoming, and the way her pelt moved and shined like water as the muscles contracted and released under her skin. Since Howi saw her cub at least once a day when she could, it was hard to notice a difference in the young cat, but Howi knew it was happening.

Every day, after chores, Howi would hurry out of camp with her spear and her bola and run to Ama's den. Once, Howi had arrived at the den to find it crumpled and broken. She'd raced around the forest in a panic, looking for signs of her friend--or, as she feared, her friend's mottled body on the forest floor--before finding the cheetah in a nearby small cave covered with moss and lichens on the outside, making it decently hidden. Ama had her scrap cloth from Howi's clothing on one paw, her head resting on it. Howi, breathing a sigh of relief and a few tears leaking out of her eyes, had run to the cat and slid down to hug her, the momentum sending them both sprawling, Howi's fingers firmly gripping the smooth fur that had become so familiar. Ama had been confused, but happy, and somehow Howi understood that Ama had just gotten a bit too big to stretch out in the makeshift cave, and had wrecked it as she slept, so moved here. It was probably better, anyway.

When Howi would arrive at the cave entrance every day, Ama would greet her. Sometimes this meant being sneakily tackled from above or from the side by a growing wild cat, but always it meant purring and head rubs and smiling. They would usually go hunting after that, both preferring to eat breakfast together. With a few times of Howi showing the cub how to be quieter on her feet, Ama had quickly become an adept huntress. They almost always had plenty of meat to fill their stomachs, and sometimes enough to bring back to Ama's cave for later or for Howi to bring back to camp. If her friends asked how the claw marks got in the kill, she would say she found it in the woods like that, uneaten. Usually though, Howi tried to only take the ones she felled back to camp, and not those marred by animal claws and teeth.

Howi's mother had started teacher her to weave cloth chords and leaves, and Howi made a flexible ball as her first project. Ama adored it, but after a few minutes Howi knew she'd have to figure out how to make toys that were more durable. Kono, she thought, might have started to feel left out, or like Howi was avoiding him. They still walked in the woods sometimes, but in the opposite direction of Ama's cave. She was always afraid that the cheetah would smell or hear her, and come to find her when she was out with her brother. Howi felt guilty about keeping her new companion a secret from her beloved brother, and it seemed like Kono knew something was up. He never said anything though, and Howi appreciated it. She promised herself she would tell him when she was ready.

When Ama's shoulders were up to Howi's hips, she had gathered enough courage to tell him. She knew Ama looked a bit more threatening now than she had several weeks ago, but Kono would understand, he would, if she told him! Right?
Finally, later that afternoon, Howi found her brother after lunch. "Will you come walking with me?" she asked him, trying to hide the nerves from wavering her voice. "Of course, little cub," he said happily, and grabbed his spear that looked much more dangerous than Howi remembered as they left their tribesmen behind.