So, just wanted to let anybody who's interested know that any and all future chapters of the story are being posted over at:

http://w11.zetaboards.com/Carnivoran_Stories/index/

I encourage anyone interested to make an account!

Hello, just a thing for Wild Dog here - In response to Black Ice's ban from Carnivora, I've created a Zeta forum for the story. In an effort to thwart a repeat of the Tyranny of Taipan, I am making (nearly) every action on this board democratic. I think you'll like some of the measures I am putting in place. If you could log on and make an account, I could use some help setting up.

http://w11.zetaboards.com/Carnivoran_Stories/index/

Shapeshifter Isle Installment #5

So, another installment. Lots of plot! Hooray for dream sequences! All text subject to Intellectual Copyright.

Installment #5

[i]’So close…’ I whisper inside my mind. ‘Another few inches, and I’m there…’ The startling moonlight filters through an opening in the ceiling of the damp cave. A rumbling snore echoes through the stone chamber, emanating from a behemoth of a brown bear not a foot away from me. I stretch out my clawed, furred hand and gingerly grab the long, bladelike tooth glimmering in the moonlight. The marble pedestal it rests upon starkly contrasts the otherwise dank, gloomy cave. It’s not until I have crept out of the cave that I take stock of my surroundings. A gigantic river rages silently in the bottom of the valley, and a massive herd of tiny mammoths, no taller than six inches are being stalked by a weasel the size of a horse. The moon illuminates the scene, as bright as a sunny day. Trees the size of bonsais crowd near the river and grasses the size of redwoods edge the borders of the valley, dominating my vision. A sparrow the size of a 747 makes its way across the sky. Everywhere I look there is another oxymoron waiting to be discovered.

My senses go on high alert as I hear something padding up almost silently behind me. I spin 180 degrees to see a beast unlike any I have seen before. It stands 5 feet tall, lithe and skinny, with a head bearing a skinny snout. The face bears both human and vulpine features. Its hands and feet bear sharp, strongly curved claws, and a short, fluffy tail extends from its backside. Most startling of all is its snow white coat, purer a colour than any I have ever seen before. Then, I realize that my hand looked like its own, but thicker and with less curved claws. ‘What the fuck..?’ I muse to my inner self, raising my hand to see a hand clawed like the beast’s, but larger and a dusky-tan colour. A white stripe runs up the inside of my arm to my chest, which is covered in slightly longer white fur. My anatomy is nearly  the same as that creature’s, but thicker and less leggy! Realizing something else, I bring my short tail around to the front of my body, and examine it. With fur only slightly shorter than that on my chest, it is the same dusky-tan as most of my body, with a white stripe running along the underside, ending in an ivory tip. For clothing I possess nothing but a small, ragged leather loincloth. I lick my lips, and my long raspy tongue is visible over the sight of my muzzle. A muzzle!

“Oh-my-fucking-god-what-the-fuck-is-this?!?!” I exclaim breathlessly, watching my muzzle move with my speech. I smell everything now, the pungent odour of the giant weasel not too far away, the musky scent of the bear, and the enticing, distinctly feminine smell of the white creature standing opposite me. Suddenly, she barks out a clipped sound resembling a laugh, and stunning blue eyes lock onto my own brown ones, with laughter shining through. “Every time…” she mumbles, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Her light, musical voice carries strongly, and I swear it’s one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard. All of a sudden I’m acutely aware of my sensitive hearing. The breathing of the three foot long mice in the bonsai pines is almost deafening when I turn my ears toward the noise. I can turn my ears?! “Do you have it?” She says, with a serious expression gracing the delicate features of her animalistic face. As she speaks I observe long, thin canines and large shearing teeth within her snout. Unsure of her meaning, I tentatively hold up the tooth, and being the paleontologist in training I am, I instantly recognize the distinctive tooth of a Smilodon. She bares her formidable teeth in a smile when I offer my trophy. “One more test, and we can leave this world.”

A thunderous roar rips its way out of the cave, shocking both of us. We lock eyes for an instant, and take off in the direction of the tall grass. At first I run bipedally, but when she drops to all fours and lopes in a manner somewhere between a dog and a chimp, dashing across the grass with potent speed, I follow suit and soon catch up to her. I can hear the massive bear charging behind us, its heavy breathing gaining on us as we approach the colossal grasses. We both leap onto the giant blade of grass, using our curved claws to grant purchase as we ascend up the grass. Once we are about 35 feet off the ground, we look down to see the bear trying and failing to climb up after us. It takes me a few seconds longer to ascend. It seems like I’m faster in a sprint but she’s the more efficient climber. “That thing must be 20 feet tall!” I exclaim, with an astonished look at my companion. She nods, and looks at me sternly. “And you must kill it. Or we will have to repeat this test. Take these.” She hands me a forked branch about 2 feet long and sinew cord, which seemingly appeared from nowhere. “With these you make the Mother’s Scythe. Do not fail me.” She says with a wink, proceeding to throw me off the blade of grass to the bear. I land behind it with a combat roll, and it doesn’t even notice at first, it’s so intent on beating the blade of grass down with its gargantuan paws.

I take the opportunity to try and bind the Smilodon tooth to the branch with the cord. To my astonishment, as soon as I wrap the sinew around the tooth and branch which barely holds it in place, the moon turns its glow in a concentrated beam directly on the tool. Before my eyes, it grows in my hands, the shaft nearing 8 feet long, and the tooth extends to about 2 feet long. The cord lengthens and wraps itself around the tooth, binding it to the stave, with the forked ends wrapping themselves around the top of the tooth, securing it in place. The ivory saber gleams in the moonlight, almost glowing.

The moonbeam attracts the attention of the bear. It whips around, instantly charging at me. I adopt a wide stance, ready to spring out of the way when the bear nears too close for comfort. Within seconds this time is upon me, and I dodge the bear’s paw swipe only to hurtle directly into the corresponding paw coming from the opposite direction. I fly through the air, landing about ten yards away. Groaning, I rise to my feet only to be greeted with the bear charging once more. This time I roll forward, between its paws, and I clumsily clamber onto its back, still stunned from my flight. My claws dig in for purchase, and the bear bellows in rage. I claw my way to its head as it rears up, trying to shake me. I nearly fall as I draw the scythe across its throat, that wondrous substance known as lifeblood drenching my blade. As the bear falls, I leap away so I don’t become trapped beneath it. As I bend to drink the bear’s blood, I am tackled by the snow white female. She pushes me away from the carcass of the bear, as the scythe lies upon the blood-soaked earth beside us. “The blood of the Great Ursus is not for mortal consumption. You did well. Don’t spoil it by drinking your way to madness.” She says, entrancing me with the lyrical tones of her voice. We stand and those piercing blue eyes penetrate my soul.

“Who are you? [b]What[/b] are you?” I ask in wonderment. She smiles, teeth flashing in the light of the moon. “I am Mahina, the moon. You would not be able to see me in my true form, so I take the form of your destiny.” At my confused glance, a benevolent look graces her features as she transforms. She throws her head back, and drops to her knees. Her eyes roll back into her head as she lies fully upon the ground, writhing and convulsing. I see her body shifting, breaking, reforming as the fur disappears and dark claws shrink into pale fingernails. Suddenly, I feel all the bones in my body shattering and reforming, expanding and contracting. My eyes roll back as well, and the world becomes starbursts of painful light behind my eyes. I want to scream, but my jaw breaks and shortens, expanding outwards. My canines get smaller, and my incisors grow large. The hair covering my body returns to its normal state, and my thick mop of shaggy brown hair falls across my unseeing eyes. Just as quickly as it came, the pain disappears, and my eyes roll forward. I close them, and stand, feeling my human body returned to me. I open my eyes to see a girl, no older than myself, standing opposite to me. Baser urges dominate my thinking as I take in the sight of her. About 5 feet 9 inches tall and thin, she has blonde hair falling in slightly curled waves to her waist, flawless ivory skin, and eyes of the same astonishing icy blue as Mahina. Her only garments are a tattered leather loincloth and black body paint, twisting swirls and geometric lines traversing her body. Black paint surrounds her eyes, accentuating the already shocking colour.

I struggle to tear my eyes away, and when I finally manage to I look down to see myself clothed in a similar manner. The ethereal scene surrounding me is astonishing. She smiles and steps up to me. She traces her hand down my cheek, gracing it with a soft caress. My eyes are lost in hers, and I feel myself being dragged into an abyss within them of which I’ve never before seen the like. She breaks eye contact, and presses her lithe body against mine. Lightly touching her lips to my ear, she whispers, “It’s time for you to leave me. Return to your own world. Your final task is to find your destiny. You will recall this when you awaken. Remember, I am always watching over you.” With that, she steps back and the world disappears into blinding light as I stare into her eyes once more…[/i]

Sunlight filters through the hole in the tent as I stir from my slumber. ‘Holy shit…’ I think to myself. ‘What was that? It felt so real…’ My internal reverie is interrupted when I feel Emily stirring beside me. Her head rests in the crook of my neck, and I feel her naked body stretched against me. Bare skin on bare skin, we lie peacefully as people have for hundreds of thousands of years before us, probably even in this very spot. I can hear the bustle of the camp around us as I come to my senses. Adamantus is struggling in vain to get a handle on the coyote pups he adopted, Wild Dog and Wyvax discuss the merits of bamboo vs hardwoods, and Black Ice is laughing with Brittany about something. A light smile flashes across my face as I take in the smell of cooking meat, probably rabbit. I move around, and Emily’s eyes flutter open, and she gazes up at me with a grin of adoration. I’ve provided for her, satisfied both physical and emotional needs for weeks now, and according to Black Ice - apparent expert on matters of the heart - she is head over heels for me. I’m not sure if I feel the same, but I certainly like her. I grin back, but pull away and begin to dress. She follows suit, and within a few moments we are dressed and exiting the tent.

“Rashido!” Wild Dog yells to me, as he sits on the cane reed floor of our camp turning a spit on which a crispy brown squirrel is impaled. “Breakfast!” I exclaim with a wide grin on my face. “I guessed rabbit from the smell but I wasn’t too far off. How are you?” He and Wyvax smile back at me, and Wild Dog replies, “Quite well.” Wyvax nods his agreement as Black Ice comes strutting forward with an arm draped across Brittany’s shoulders. “You lazy bitches better get off your asses, ‘cause we have work to do!” He announces this with a chuckle, prompting over-enthusiastic giggles from Brittany. I respond, “Agreed, we need to get mobilized. We should have breakfast first though.” Black Ice gets a mischievous look in his eyes, and proudly states, “Don’t worry, I had fish for breakfast.” with a wink at the guys and a pointed look at Brittany. She gasps with a raging blush, and slaps his arm, but he just laughs. He continues, “In all seriousness though, I will have some breakfast.”

Wild Dog just looks appalled, Wyvax and I are laughing our asses off, and Emily casts a suspicious glance at Brittany. Adamantus approaches with Theropod and the two coyote pups in tow. Shaking his head, Wild Dog takes the squirrel from the spit and lays it on a relatively clean rock. Theropod hands him an obsidian knife and Wild Dog butchers the squirrel, handing pieces to each of us. Wyvax walks the short distance to the cooking trough, and pulls up the tarp containing a small amount of cattail and mint soup. Armed with my decent knowledge of different medicinal and cooking herbs, I’d been able to gather up some plants for us to eat in conjunction with our meals. I scoop some out with my hands, and drink it down with my squirrel. With blinding speed, Superpredator is suddenly upon us, yelling “I SMELL FOOD!!!” 

He sprints up from the stream and drops a black rock by my side. It is porous looking and pitch black, even blacker than coal, with obvious volcanic origin. “Look what I found!” he cries in excitement, practically bouncing up and down. “Wow buddy, this is really cool! Where’d you get it?” I say as I pick up the rock, running my hands over it and examining it. About a foot long and 7 inches wide, it’s surprisingly light for its size. “Down by the stream. Do you like it?” He manages to get all this out with a mouthful of squirrel while drinking soup at the same time. I think of Mahina’s body paints. “Yes Supes, in fact this thing is pretty priceless.” Wild Dog looks at me confused. “I think it’s cool, but how is it that valuable?” I turn to him and explain, mirth and jokingly haughty tones infiltrating my speech: “This, my young padawan, is the key to our hunt today. We need a way to break up our image among the trees. Any deer or goat will notice us if we’re solid shapes and colours. Ever wonder how a tiger got its stripes? He needed camouflage for hunting and so do we. We can grind this up into powder, mix it with a bit of clay and water, and make body paint. Stripes and swirls will break up our image among the trees, and allow us to get closer to the quarry. Remember, we only have one atlatl. If we miss, we’ll need to charge in with thrusting spears. In order to have any hope of success using this method, we’ll need to be close to the prey. That means camo. This is our first big-game hunt, and we need to get something. Everyone is getting tired of trout and cattails.”

Everyone nods in understanding as we finish our breakfast. Theropod grabs the stone, and walks off to grind it up. I return to the tent I share with Emily, and grab the long wooden shaft that I intend on turning into a basic spear. Cut from an ash sapling nearby, the wood is heavy, hard, and exceedingly tough. About 9 feet long, I’ve already stripped its bark and straightened it. The only thing left to do is cut and fire harden the tip. As I complete this most basic of tasks, I ponder over my dream. Looking to the sky, I see the ghost of the moon, barely visible in daylight. I smile to myself, and remember Mahina’s words… [i]” Your final task is to find your destiny.”[/i] ‘What does that mean..?’ I think to myself. ‘She said that the form she took was that of my destiny. I didn’t see any survivors who looked like that, I sure as hell would’ve noticed… So I need to find a girl who looks like that? Where? How? There’s too many open ended questions, and not enough answers…’ As I finish my task, I walk off to see how Theropod is progressing.

 2 hours later…

Black Ice and I swing through the trees as the rest of the hunting party jog below us. I’m still not as good as he is, but I’m catching up and soon I’ll have almost as much arboreal agility as him. Theropod carries the atlatl, as he is the most experienced with them, and Superpredator holds all our spears. He insisted on tagging along, and since he’s too young to hunt properly, we declared him our caddy. Wild Dog, Wyvax, DinoFreak, Adamantus, and SilverFang run along the ground, hot on the trail of goat prints we discovered earlier and decided to follow. All of our bodies are covered in swirling black body paint, and we look pretty fucking epic if I do say so myself. All of a sudden, I spot red-brown fur moving among branches of a thicket from my aerial position. I let out the warning whistle we agreed on beforehand, mimicking a bird call, and everyone stops. Black Ice and I drop down, grabbing our spears from Superpredator. I hear the goats rummaging through the undergrowth, and can practically feel their heartbeats from 25 feet away. I whisper, “They’re in that thicket over there. Can’t you guys hear them?” Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy. Apparently they can’t hear them. Either way, I point Theropod in the right direction. The rest of us fan out, forming a semi-circle around the unsuspecting animals.

Theropod slowly creeps forward, and the whole party is on edge. One of the goats raises its head in Wild Dog’s direction when he steps on a twig, and seizing the moment Theropod hurls the atlatl dart at the goat with deadly force and speed. It is struck in the neck and slumps to the ground. 

The rest of the group begins to flee, but I feel an overwhelming stirring within me. I chase after them, throwing my spear at one not 5 feet in front of me. It sinks into the animal’s thigh and the goat bleats plaintively, slowing more with each step. I tackle the goat, and feeling that same urge I felt when I ripped up the coyote’s throat, wrestle the poor animal to the ground, drag it into a bush, and bite down on its throat. The goat is much larger than the coyote I killed and, my teeth don’t do much, but I work my hold and kill it with asphyxiation after nearly 2 minutes of sitting there clamping on its windpipe. The others had been calling for me, but I hadn’t even noticed while lost in bloodlust. ‘At least I know how a lion feels going after a wildebeest…’ I silently muse before I notice the slowing footsteps and gasps behind me. I turn, my teeth covered in blood. 

Reactions among the party are mixed. Black Ice, Adamantus, and SilverFang are grinning ear-to-ear, Wild Dog and Wyvax look worried, and Superpredator has a look somewhere between shock and respect on his face. I rise to my feet, wipe my mouth, and lick my lips. I look to the noonday sky, and see the moon shining slightly stronger than it was before we set out. I pick up the goat, drape it over my shoulder, and proceed to start walking back to camp. Casting a backward glance, I call out, “Are you guys coming or not?” Everyone else starts to walk after me, and I feel more confident than I have in a while.

30 minutes later…

As we near camp, I nearly drop my prize in shock. My peripheral vision catches a flash of blonde hair and I call out, “Hey! Come back!” Before I can even guess what direction the hair disappeared to, it’s gone and the guys are catching up. “What was that?” SilverFang asks, following the direction of my gaze into the treetops. I reply, “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Wild Dog puts a hand on my shoulder, and looks up at me in concern. I shake my head, and keep walking. ‘Destiny approaches…’ I think to myself, excited and a bit scared at the same time at the potential consequences of my sighting.

So, let me know what you think. As always I'm a bit unsure of the pacing. Thanks for reading!

Story Idea

So, I had an idea for a new story today. It takes place in a fictional world that's pretty much the same as Earth. Except, there are some supernatural elements in existence (e.g. some mythical creatures, watered down magic, etc.). The setting is on an island that's isolated from the mainland. It has a temperate forest climate, like Scotland or Ireland. The civilization is based around Pictish and Gaelic culture. People wear kilts, play pipes and drums, drink a lot of homemade alcohol, all the stereotypes. Naturally, the civilization would be apart from both, but would share a lot of elements. The basic plot-line is a tried and true recipe, but it's one that I like. Basically, a young man (when the story starts he's like 12 or 13) is afflicted with one debilitating disease or another, and visits a malicious medicine man type figure who cures him in exchange for some valuable thing (not sure what that thing might be yet, maybe a piece of his soul or his firstborn or something like that). Now cured, the young man rises to greatness over the course of a few years. Now, a group of invaders comes over from the mainland and the young man takes up the fight for his people. At a pivotal point in the war, the medicine man comes for his due. The young man denies him for one reason or another. Then, the medicine man curses him, and goes on to betray him to the invaders and they (the invaders) win a major battle and establish a fortified settlement or other major foothold on the island. With more and more troops pouring in from the mainland, the natives' job of holding on to their land becomes that much more difficult, and everyone knows it's the main character's fault. He is banished to an unsettled part of the island, and that's the end of the first story arc. Thoughts? Opinions? My train of thought is an overall plot synonymous to the conquest of Britain by the Romans. Except this time the natives win!

Shapeshifter Isle Installment #4

Okay, so Installment #4. Enjoy. All is subject to Intellectual Copyright.

Installment #4

I feel my entire body convulsing, writhing. An external force is shaking me into consciousness. I hear a voice… “Rashido! Wake up!” A long sigh invades my ears, and suddenly the sharp crack of a palm striking my cheek sweeps across my consciousness, followed closely by the pain it was intended to cause. I’m more aware now, and I can hear Black Ice saying, “Do you want to eat or not, you lazy fuck?” I open my eyes to see him kneeling beside my body, with a grin on his face. When he notices my open eyes, he rises to his feet and extends a hand for me to grip. I take it, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. I chuckle and say, “You could have just yelled some more…” He replies, “But that wouldn’t have been as much fun!” I grin, and look to see people crouched around the cooking trench waiting, steam billowing up around them. Wild Dog walks through a gap in the throng of people, using sticks to carry a rock fresh from the fire. He drops it in and more steam bursts from the hollow in the earth. I begin to walk over to the pit, followed by Black Ice, and people move out of the way. I pass Emily, and she smiles at me. I return the smile, but continue walking towards the pit.

The boiling water is populated by many large crustaceans that I suppose will be our dinner. “What’s all this? There were less than half this many crawfish the last time I checked!” I say to no one in particular. Superpredator exclaims, “We made more of those spears and caught lots more! See those two?” He points to two random crawfish in the trench, with a smug look on his face. “I caught those!” With a glance to Wild Dog, who is shaking his head in amusement, I play along, saying “Wow, that’s great! I think those ones are the biggest!” I’m lying, but it still brings a wide smile to the young boy’s face, and that’s more important than total honesty at a time like this. Suddenly, something occurs to me. “Guys, what are we going to eat these with?  We don’t have any plates or anything…” Brittany stands up holding a bunch of paper plates. “Found these in the bag. As well as some plastic silverware. We’ll be okay utensil-wise for a while.” “Great,” I say.

“Hey, whatever happened to that porcupine?” I say, suddenly wondering what else has changed in the past few hours. Theropod speaks up, “I plucked all the quills for later use and cleaned and skinned it. It’s over there, waiting to be cooked.” He points to the carcass lain out on a large river rock by the stream. A bit of red stains the rock, and I can see small fish eating the entrails caught in an eddy not too far downstream. “All right,” I say, walking towards the porcupine, “Looks like enough to feed a few people. Anyone who’s uncomfortable eating seafood can have this. Just make sure its cooked well.” A few people stand, and walk to me to retrieve the rodent. “Do we have any vegetarians here?” I say, looking around. An older woman, DinoMike, and a few college girls raise their hands. “Well, it’s about time to abandon your morals. Eat up!” They look disappointed, but I don’t feel bad at all. They need to understand that it’s time to grow up and face the real world where you eat anything and everything you can just to stay alive.

The sun is setting to the west, and the proximity of dark clouds suddenly alarms me. ‘It appears we have some… active weather patterns…’ I say inside my mind. I walk up to Brittany. “How many tarps and thermal blankets do we have?” She says “4 tarps and 10 thermal blankets. We used one tarp for the cooking pit. Why?” I reply, with some urgency, “Rain is coming. If we get rained on, the injured could easily die, and many of us will catch colds and such. I know colds don’t sound like a big deal, but in this type of situation they really are. We need to make some kind of shelter, and fast.” She nods, and goes off to tell the other members of the camp who hold some authority. The rest of the camp settles down to eat as I stride off into the bush, past the fern clearing, and into the small willow grove where I made my spear. I pull out my kukri, and thank myself for making such a versatile tool. 

The weight-forward design makes chopping easy, but it’s also balanced for throwing and capable of both the harshest and most delicate tasks. I chop away at the base of a small willow, and it only takes 3 chops to cut all the way through the 1 ½ inch trunk of the young tree. I cut down a total of 10, all around the same size (7 feet long and 1 ½ inches thick), enough for the ribs of a decent sized shelter, over a 5 minute period, as the dark clouds slowly begin to spread over the sky. I return to camp carrying them, and begin to strip the bark for tying on the tarps. Wyvax and Black Ice, the only others with metal knives, join in. Wild Dog selects a large, straight piece of bamboo about 20 feet long (one of our largest pieces) destined to become the spine of our basic shelter. I push aside pieces of the bamboo floor so that I can dig at the dirt to make a depression to insert the base of the willow into. I do this every four feet or so, spreading them apart so the space inside will be about 8 feet across and 20 feet long, with a 4 ½ foot ceiling. While I do this, Wild Dog and Wyvax assemble the skeleton of the shelter and Black Ice goes around the camp letting everyone know what’s going on.

Once the skeleton is erected, we go to Brittany and get the tarps and blankets. “Thanks.” Black Ice says with a wink. Wild Dog facepalms while Wyvax and I glance at each other knowingly, silently laughing at both Black Ice’s antics and Wild Dog’s despair. We make our way back to the skeleton shelter, and begin to tie on the layers of waterproof material, with thermal blankets on the inside and tarps covering the exterior. Just as tiny drops of rain begin to fall, we finish the shelter, and line the floor with whatever spare clothes we can find, usher everyone inside, and close the door. Wild Dog walks up to me and says, “Will you still be taking watch?” I’m not sure how to respond, seeing as everyone is cramped inside this tent there’s not much to watch for. “We don’t want animals to become attracted to the camp. Someone will have to be outside to drive them off.” He says, elaborating further. I reply, “Oh, all right. Yeah, I can handle it. You guys go to bed.” Wild Dog nods his thanks as I pull on my sweatshirt and exit the tent. Everyone has all their stuff inside, and all the rubbish from the day’s events, including broken handaxes, discarded cane reed, and crawfish remains have been deposited in a heap at the base of the oak tree in the center of the fern clearing. Deciding that the trash heap would be the most likely point of interest to carnivores, I climb the tree and sit atop a sturdy branch about 12 feet off the ground. Stable, partially sheltered by the leaves of the tree, and with a commanding view of the surrounding area, it appears I have found the optimum lookout spot. The rain blurs my view of the area however, and the quickly fading light isn’t helping. Despite my earlier cat nap, within a few minutes of inactivity I begin to doze…

5 hours later…

[i]*sniff*[/i]

‘What’s going on?’ I say to myself, groggy from sleep. I look up and see the crescent moon indicating a time of around 11 pm.

[i]*sniff* *sniff*[/i]

I look down to see a coyote sifting through the trash, eating the remains of the crawfish. I gasp, and pull out my knife. Growling, it looks up and bares its teeth, eyes flashing in the darkness. I leap down from the tree, rolling into a combat position, with a firm, spread out stance, knees bent, facing the canid down. Much to my surprise, it begins to advance slowly, indicating no fear. ‘It must not have interacted with people before…’ I say to myself, baring my own teeth and letting out an animalistic snarl in hopes of scaring it off. I hear someone stir inside the tent behind me, and I’m distracted for a moment. Taking advantage of my partially lowered guard, the coyote leaps forward, snarling, straight for my throat. I react instantly, grabbing the coyote’s throat and holding it in midair, I plunge my kukri into its side, sinking all 11 inches of the blade into its body, providing lethal penetration. 

It yelps, and snaps feebly at my hands in a bid to escape its now certain fate. I let go of my knife, which is still embedded into its side, and raise my hand to grab onto its lower jaw. I then let go of its throat, and grab its upper jaw with my other hand. I can feel jaw muscles feebly flexing, trying to bite, but my hands hold its jaws in place. I see blood flooding its throat as it weakly wheezes, suffering from a ripped lung, the result of my lethal stab. I feel a wave of anger at this innocent creature, simply trying to find a meal. In the recesses of my mind I know this, but the mere notion that this filthy animal would try and steal or harm me and my friends fills me with rage. Without warning, I pull my hands in opposite directions with as much force as I can muster, and rip the small coyote’s lower jaw clean off of its head. It was nearly dead, but the destruction of its jaw completed the process. Panting heavily, my hands covered in blood, I hear a stifled cry behind me. Still baring my teeth, adrenaline pumping through my veins, I turn to see Emily, Black Ice, and Adamantus staring at me, all with different expressions on their faces. Emily looks on in horror, one hand held over her mouth, Black Ice with approval, and Adamantus with plain old shock.

I turn, raising my hands apologetically, when Emily’s eyes get even wider. Two baby coyotes make their way out of the bushes. When they see their bloodied mother lying on the ground, they start keening in despair. Tears flow freely from my eyes as the blood is slowly washed away from the rain, and the pups wail in despair at the sight of their dead mother. I put my head in my hands, quietly crying, as Black Ice comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. Adamantus and Emily retreat to the tent, Adamantus expressionless and Emily crying almost as hard as I am. They obviously expect me to kill them, maybe even in the same manner their mother died, and they simply can’t bear to watch. I shake my head in disbelief, and my voice breaks repeatedly as I manage to choke out, “If I had known she had pups, I would never have… She attacked me first! I… I didn’t mean to…” My voice is barely audible above the rain. Black Ice, sensing I need to be alone for a moment, walks away, his face somber at the sights and sounds produced by the orphaned babies. They couldn’t be older than a month or two, and definitely not yet weaned. ‘Where is the father?’ I think to myself as I walk towards the pups.

Suddenly, he bursts from the bushes, with a fury surpassing the rage I felt just seconds before tenfold. He attempts to get the babies away before his inevitable attack, but I know I can’t let him take them. Without milk they’ll die. I can take care of them better than he can now, it’s my responsibility. I put myself between him and his pups, and he snarls viciously. Knowing that I am saving these babies from the thing that loves them the most in this world threatens to tear my heart asunder, but it must be done. 

I tackle the coyote as he leaps for my throat in the same manner his deceased mate did, and a cold determination sweeps over me, drowning out the waves of emotion washing over me. I force the small animal to the ground, and end him in the same way he would have done to me. I hold down his head and body with either arm and rip his throat apart with my teeth, tasting the salty, thick life’s blood of the coyote rushing all over my face and filling my mouth. At the taste and the feeling, despite my feelings of remorse and sadness, a carnal sense of joy fills me for an instant, and I hate myself for it. Either way, I tear more at the throat of the small coyote till its struggles stop. Suddenly peaceful, my face and hands still covered in blood, I stand and turn my face up to the sky. The rain washes me clean as I stand in the center of the downpour. The wailing of the pups brings me back to reality, and I spin around to see them trying in vain to get a last meal of milk from their mother. Upon closer inspection, I observe that both parents were unusually small and emaciated. ‘They must have been vagrants; their pups probably would have died anyway.’ I think to myself, and take heart in knowing that in the end I probably saved the pups from starvation. I pick them up and bundle them up in my sweatshirt pocket, in an attempt to keep them warm. They stop wailing and sit quietly inside my sweatshirt, huddling together.

I see Black Ice looking at me in shock. Even he was astonished at my actions, murdering both parents of the pups, and then caring for them. He shakes his head in disbelief, pulls out his own knife, and proceeds to begin skinning and cleaning the mother of the pups. He pulls out my kukri and tosses it to me. I catch it and return it to its sheath. With a nod towards the tent, he indicates I should return to the tent. I nod lightly, and begin to walk away. As I go back inside, Emily stares at me, with both fear and longing in her eyes. Appalled at what I’ve done, but also wanting to comfort me at the sight of my distress, the latter emotion wins out and she approaches me. I pull out one of the pups from my jacket and her eyes grow huge. She looks me in the eye, questions flooding forth, but she restrains them. A sheen of relief hides within her large hazel eyes, and it’s obvious she didn’t want me to kill the pups. I lie down, and take her into my arms, the pups warm between us. I fall asleep curled around her and the baby coyotes, and because of my horror at both my actions and the joy I felt when I ripped out the throat of the male, I find myself unable to sleep. Guilt roots itself within me. Despite all my bluster, I'm still a teenage kid from the city.

So, another chapter. Hope you guys like it. Not super happy with the coyote scene, it felt a bit rushed to me. If anyone has comments or questions just ask. Thanks!

Shapeshifter Isle Installment #3

This story has recently been subject to furious editing, so hopefully it's more polished.

Without further ado, here it is:

Installment #3

"Run!" I hear a thousand voices speak as one. Young and old. Strong and weak. Yells and whispers. The voices of eternity warn me of impending danger, and I heed their call to flee. I open my eyes to see a teeming village. Thousands of people, emaciated and reserved in their mannerisms, swarm around me. Everyone has dark skin and black hair, and are covered in tattoos. 'Where am I?' I question. I look at my hand. It's a deep brown colour. I hold my suddenly shoulder length hair in front of my face. It is straight and black. I realize I'm wearing a sleeveless buckskin tunic and beaded moccasins rather than the pullover sweatshirt and shorts I'm accustomed to. Looking at my upper arm there's tattoos covering it. Just like the rest of these people. I feel tired and hungry. I look up, and I see nothing but towering redwoods. The sky is black. At first I think it's night, but then the sun peeks through the darkness, then is swallowed yet again. 'That's smoke!' I exclaim to my inner self, and desperate for answers, I try and speak again to the voices in my head. I close my eyes and whisper "Where am I?"

"RUN! NOW!" the voices thunder in my skull, and I drop to my knees cradling my shattered ears. I am knocked over by a passerby, and rather than move around me, people begin to trample me into the dirt. A child begins wailing, and then another, and another. It goes on till all I can hear is the screaming of children and the heavy breathing of the masses surrounding me. I begin to shove my way upwards, clinging to the wretchedly torn buckskin tunics of the passersby, attempting to claw my way to my feet. Once I'm standing on my own two feet, I begin to push and shove my way out of the crowd away from the volcano.

BOOM

I look up to see the sky covered in flurries of flaming teardrops hurtling toward the earth. They harden into stone on the way down, and crush down people left and right. I grab a man wandering aimlessly, who is so skinny and sickly I lift him above my head with ease despite my own frail condition. Using the poor soul as a human shield from the giant earthen bullets falling from the sky, I rush towards the raging seas. Ash falls like snow as the trees around me ingnite from embers drifting from the volcano. As I near the open area of the pebbled beach, a river of lava emerged from the flaring trees and slowly made its way into the ocean, forming an embankment of rock as it came into contact with the icy waters. With my human shield peppered with holes from falling rock and lava, I drop his lifeless body in favour of diving beneath the waves with hopes of either shelter from the liquid fire or a quick death from hypothermia. As I make the final leap towards the water I look back to see the agent of my demise - a flash cooled chunk of razor-edged obsidian. Just as I hit the water and the obsidian crashes into me, I feel no pain...

I awake to Apex holding me down the ground, my pants wet and my limbs flailing."Holy shit Rashido, it was just a dream, calm down!" I hear him say this, fear in his voice, concerned eyes looking down at me from all angles. It appears I've awakened all of Carnivora. Slowly, I exit my frenzy of panic to see that other people from around the camp have come over to see what was going on. 'Damn it... There's going to be trouble today... Having a spaz attack and pissing my fucking pants isn't the best show of leadership...' I think to myself. Thankfully, most people simply look concerned, rather than that hungry gleam that comes into the eyes of the ambitious when a leader is taken down a peg. I sit up and look around. It's just after sunrise, and a slight chill inhabits the air. My clothes are soaked in sweat, and my hands feel incredibly clammy. I stand, looking around to see literally the entire camp staring at me. The girl I talked to last night looks incredibly worried, along with most of my friends. The other people here have mixed looks of disdain and worry gracing their features, but most are too numb from our ordeal to truly feel concerned. "What's everyone staring at? Let's get going!" I yell, with a solidarity in my voice that surprises both myself and the people around me. "We need to get moving before those bodies are eaten. Or we'll be next." I say with a glance at the beach. The tide is incredible, having dragged the remains of the ship almost completely out to sea. At my words, an absolutely massive brown bear directs it's attention towards our camp, and bellows it's dominance as it returns to it's meal of a bloated corpse.

"I'm inclined to agree. How are we going to move the wounded?" Wild Dog says, as eager as I am to get away from the sight of this carnage. I turn to Theropod and say, "How many hand axes were you able to make last night?" Eagerness enters his eyes, and he makes excited hand gestures as he speaks of his craft. "I was able to make about 19 decent ones. With 3 metal knives and a bunch of hand axes we can clear that cane reed in no time if every able bodied person participates." I reply, eager to get to work despite my aching muscles, "All right, who wants to volunteer?" A number of people from all the groups comply, including most of Carnivora, some of the college girls, and a few of the older men. "Theropod, if you'd kindly give everyone a quick lesson on how to use these, we can get on our way." I say, looking him in the eye and nodding. He understands my insinuated request to make sure we don't get any cut hands or the subsequent infections. 'Modern people are useless...' I say to my inner self. As Theropod begins his quick lesson, I catch the eye of the girl I conversed with the previous night. She smiles at me, and I reciprocate happily. 'Shit, what was her name... I don't think I even asked... Damn...' I reprimand my self for being so inconsiderate, but she breaks contact and returns her focus to the lesson. I turn around towards my gear by the fire to find the annoying older guy I confronted previously looking up at me.

"Hi, Rashido is it? Where I come from we don't trust people who don't go by their real name, but I guess there's not much room for leeway there?" His voice is laced with an abrasive southern drawl that makes me want to claw my eyes out. I shake my head, my guard up, ready for a fight. His nonchalant stance reveals he has no desire to fight. I relax slightly, but keep ready for anything. He continues, "I'm sorry about last night, and I just want to let you know there's no hard feelings on my end." He smiles and his voice is pleading, but the look in his eyes is cold and insincere. I go along, and shake his outstretched hand. Despite his true intentions, a wave of relief passes through him. Body language doesn't lie. I know I can't trust him, but all the same I too am slightly relieved there won't be any more bloodshed, at least for a little while. I walk to my pack and grab what little gear I have, which consists of a waterproof lighter, solar powered watch, first aid kit from the ship, and my kukri machete. It isn't a true kukri, but rather a long knife in the shape of a kukri that I forged myself. The handle was tightly wrapped paracord around the tang of the knife, and comfortable but strong. I tuck it into my belt and shoulder the first aid kit. "All done!" Theropod yells from his place by the central fire. I walk up to him and notice his slumping stance and bags under his eyes. "Get some sleep," I say to him, concerned, "You're obviously bone tired and trust me, you did more than your fair share standing watch and making all those tools. Let us do the grunt work." I finish with a smile, and my good humour is returned. "All right, thanks." he replies. "No worries man. Get some rest." he nods and I turn to the assembled party of about 20 of the fittest people. I make my way to the front and say to Wild Dog: "Lead the way."

He nods firmly and sets a brisk pace for the rest of us to follow. No one speaks until we reach the patch of cane reed. I break the silence, saying "This will do nicely. Everyone, remember to cut near the base of the reeds so we can retain the stalks for tools and building materials." The group mumbles agreement and everyone gets to work. I get in there among the rest, hacking away at the thick, strong reeds furiously. After about ten minutes, we already have almost a third of the cane reed cleared. However, due to improper use of the hand axes, a few are already dull or broken, and those who broke them are just wandering aimlessly. I stand, and, try to think of something everyone would know. I begin, "I don't know about you guys, but the thing I miss the most, even only after one day, is music. Does everybody know 'The Drunken Sailor'?" About half the assembled people raise their hands or provide another method of confirmation. I spot FishFreak among those with their hands raised. "All right, FishFreak, you lead the song." He agrees shyly and tentatively beings, "What do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning?" in a nice singing voice. Slowly, those who know the song join in, and those who don't quickly catch on. Cutting to the rhythm of the song, the work speed increases. I break away from the group of workers and stride towards the people with broken tools. "Come with me." I say, leading them towards the stream. Pacing up and down a small length of the bank, I quickly find what I am searching for. A large, brightly coloured crawfish waits in an eddy, grabbing passing debris and bringing its tiny hands to it's mouth in one fluid motion. "See that?" They nod. "That's dinner." One man, about 40, begins to wade into the river, but I grab his arm and hold him back. "That's a good way to get hypothermia. The water is deeper than it looks, and cold. If you slip you're as good as dead. Fishing lesson #1: Don't jump in." They chuckle, and I turn towards a small stand of willow saplings. "One of you go find some sort of cord. The rest, come with me." A college girl goes off in search of cord, while the rest of us make our way to the saplings.

I quickly chop down a perfectly straight sapling, about 8 feet long, and we all return to the stream. The college girl is waiting with a bunch of thick, tough moss. "Perfect." I say with a broad smile, looking her in the eyes, and the girl blushes in good humour. I quickly take the top of the sapling and split the tip into four pieces, tying the bottom with moss to keep the tree from splitting. I then strip the bark of the willow tree in long strips, for later use as a supple and strong cordage useful for many things. I take a bit of the willow bark and tie it around the four pieces, separating them with a substantial gap between the tips. I look up to see the bystanders looking on with interest. I hold it up, complete. "This is a crawfish spear." I say, with a small amount of triumph lacing my words at the fact that I was actually able to successfully make the tool I'd only seen before on YouTube. "It's useful because with decent aim and a little practice you can get all the crawfish you want without even getting close to the water. I'll show you." I walk at a comfortable pace back to the stream, casting a glance back towards the group of people still cutting cane reed. Another third of the way done, Black Ice managed to get everyone to arrange the cane reed into neat piles for later use. I acknowledge his presence with a nod of my head, and he returns the gesture, with a questioning look and a raised eyebrow at the... unique looking tool in my hands, returning to work. I laugh under my breath, and stay my course to the stream. I find the big crawfish again, and I quickly take aim with my spear. A quick lunge and splash of water later, the crawfish is held between the multiple rounded points of the spear.

The newly assembled crowd begins to clap quietly, and I take a gracious bow, laughing all the way. Despite the modesty of my action, everyone appreciates fresh seafood. I look to the reeds and see that nearly all been chopped down. "Remember this one guys?" I address the present members of Carnivora. Wild Dog speaks up first, "Yeah, didn't you link a video once?" I reply, "Indeed I did. A useful little apparatus if I do say so myself." I smile yet again, knowing how important public relations can be and what a big difference it can make. 'If I have to keep this up, my face might fall off...' I think to myself. Seeing the group in tattered clothes amidst the tall redwoods with a backdrop of tree ferns, deciduous trees and a volcano takes me back to my dream, and a dark look is cast upon my face against my will. 

Looks of confusion spread across the crowd, and Black Ice questions my two-faced behaviour. "You alright man?" he asks. "Yeah, no worries dude." I reply. A short but awkward silence ensues, and I begin to walk toward the cleared reed patch in an attempt to break the tension. As I near the area, the ground quality shifts below my feet from the thick grass to hard but moist bare earth. I call out, "We won't be able to sleep on the plain dirt here, it'll give us all a cold. I know it doesn't sound like much, but that's all it takes to kill you in a survival situation. We can take some of the smaller reeds and lay them out to act as a floor." I look at the piles of reeds with a critical eye. "Lord knows we have enough of them. We can take the some of the sturdier ones, remove the clothes from the wounded, and use the resulting materials to make stretchers to comfortably move them." I walk to the piles and select a reed of about an inch in thickness and turn, saying, "Reeds this width and smaller can be used for the floor until further notice. The damp ground should keep them relatively supple so after we work out a better floor we can re-use them. Start laying them out. Wild Dog, Adamantus, and Apex come with me. We'll take the larger stalks and return to make stretchers. Oh and guys don't forget to leave gaps for fire pits." I say to the mob of people around me. As people file away to grab the reeds I pull Black Ice aside for a quick talk. Before I can say something, he quietly quips, "I don't know why they're listening to you, but I'm glad they are." I mumble agreement and say, "I think everyone's still in shock, and they just need to do something. I'm surprised they're doing as well as they have been." Our trains of thought have obviously converged, and he says "Same here. On some deeper level I think they've realized there's no room for fooling around. We can't just sit on our asses eating burgers and watching TMZ all day anymore." I laugh, but continue on a serious note, "Just keep them in line, ok?" He replies sarcastically, "Got it boss!" I grin and head off back to camp with the others I selected.

2 hours later...

"We're back!" Adamantus calls out, causing heads to turn towards the approaching party. Wild Dog and I carry Coherentsheaf on a cane reed stretcher, with ApexPredator and Adamantus hauling Cidermaster on another stretcher. A look of gratitude flashes across my face as I see a comfortably floored area of cane reeds bunched together in straight, even lines. Wyvax sweeps his hand in the general direction of the clearing with a gentle bow, and jokes "Welcome to our humble abode!" I lightly laugh, and see that they even lined the fire pits with rocks. "Great job guys. All we need now is a trench to boil water in and we'll be set!" I say. Black Ice speaks up, "Already done guys." He points to a trench about 2 feet wide, 2 feet deep, and 4 feet long, lined with a waterproof parka held down with more river rocks. "Awesome. We brought fire!" Wild Dog says, grabbing a torch from one of the the other people from the original camp. A college girl walks forward and holds up the other major prize of the day. Vodmeister's eyes go wide and he says, "Is that a camping backpack?!" I speak up, "Indeed it is. Brittany over here found it." I say. Black Ice turns an approving eye on the girl, and her cheeks flare into red. Wild Dog sighs exasperatedly, and pushes me forward to the floored area so we can set down Coherentsheaf. Adamantus and Apex follow suit.

Once the injured are secured and comfortable, and the others are busy building fires, Black Ice and I share a meaningful glance, and turn to our respective women of interest. "Hi." I say, striding comfortably up to the girl I had talked to the night before, and she spins around with a wide smile, and says "Hey, hows it going?" "Good, and yourself" I say. She replies with a slight look of displeasure, "Things could be better..." I look her in the eye and say, "No kidding. It's too bad we didn't meet under different circumstances." A small, fleeting smile crosses her features, and my heart warms for reasons I don't quite understand, nor am I sure I want to. "So," I begin, "I feel like an asshole, but I'm afraid I didn't catch your name last night." She replies, "It's ok, we were both a little overwhelmed. I know I still am. You seem to be doing okay though. Anyway, my name's Emily." Now that things are more familiar, I suddenly take in the full sight of her. 

She has dark brown hair, not unlike my own, and large hazel eyes, considerably lighter and more welcoming than mine. "Well, Emily, I'm very pleased to meet you." I say with a smile, stressing the word very. I take her small hand in my own, and lift it to my lips gently kissing the back of her hand in the way people used to do back in the 1920's. Her cheeks flare up, and I grin from ear to ear, slowly letting her hand down slowly, maintaining contact. She says, "The feeling is mutual." with a coy smile. Unfortunately, I feel the intensely disapproving gaze of Wild Dog scorching the back of my skull. As I turn, I see Black Ice has made similar progress. Wild Dog calls out, "Let's get something productive done, ok?" I roll my eyes jokingly, prompting a giggle from Emily, and call back, "Sure dude, relax a little." He sighs in annoyance and I grab Emily's hand. "Care to go on an adventure?" I say, with laughter and excitement in my eyes. "Sure!" I grab my crawfish spear, somehow still holding a live crawfish from the stream, and on our way to the stream I deposit the crawfish in the cooking pit, still waterless, and fortunately he (I assume it's a he for some reason) is incapable of climbing up the slick walls of the thick smooth parka. We pick up speed, reaching a light jog, and go farther down the river, away from sight...

1 hour later...

"We're back!" Emily calls, and a number of eyes turn toward us concerned. Adamantus says accusingly, "Where were you guys?" I hold out my shirt, which currently holds about 15 crawfish of varying sizes. As he takes it and opens it up, his eyes widen. I smugly state, "Fishing." A few laughs echo around camp, but not too many, just a few within earshot. I continue, "It's enough for a few people, but to feed all of us we'll need to be out there for a while longer." I gesture to a few crawfish. "Emily caught those." I turn to her with a sly grin and say, "Took her long enough though..." She gasps, pretending to be offended, and says, "It's harder than it looks!" I say, "Sure, sure..." laughing lightly, and she gently slaps my arm. I take back my shirt from Adamantus, and walk to the cooking pit to deposit the new crawfish. I see that they've filled it partially with water, just enough to keep the crawfish alive. Wild Dog looks upset, and says, "We were about to go searching for you guys! We didn't know where you went." Movement catches my eye directly over his shoulder, and I hold up one hand, while reaching for my knife with the other. "What are you doing? Don't tell me to be quiet!" He rants, really peeved about something or other. My focus is on something else. When my kukri knife is in ready position, I slowly draw back my arm. "You had better not throw that at me!" His eyes widen as I fling the knife forward through the air, passing his ear in it's flight. He ducks, eyes alight with fury, and begins to rage "ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! YOU ALMOST KILLED ME YOU SENSELESS BASTARD!!!" 

I simply walk by him to a tree. I run up the tree trunk a little, and jump from about a foot up the trunk backwards, grabbing a branch around 9 feet off the ground, and using this momentum, throw myself up onto the sturdy oak branch. My feat of agility stuns some, but cannot compare with what Black Ice can accomplish. I make my way up to about 18 feet up the trunk, to where my knife impales a tree-dwelling porcupine. I quickly make my way down, jumping off my starting branch, returning to earth with a roll to absorb the shock, yet again surprising many of the bystanders observing the whole affair. I pluck two quills from the back of the spiny rodent, and clack them together. "Chopsticks." I say with a grin, relieving the formerly palpable tension, inspiring laughs and even a small grin from Wild Dog. He addresses me, "Don't do something like that again, ok? Tell us where you plan on going." I respond, "We didn't really have a plan, but next time I'll let you know. Sorry." He says, 'It's ok." With that, he turns around and goes back to treating Coherentsheaf's wounded leg. I approach, and remark, "That looks bad." He says, "Yeah, not much we can do though. I did what I could, but ultimately it's up to his immune system." We stand and I walk away to the new Carnivora fire. I settle down to rest, planning on taking first watch. FishFreak approaches me and inquires as to the nature of my actions, and I tell him my plan, asking him to pass the info on to Wild Dog and the others. As I lay down, I turn my head towards the stream, and see Emily walking with some other people, I guess to teach them how to use the crawfish spear. As I fall into a dreamless sleep, the last thought to cross my mind goes along the lines of 'Damn. Nice ass.'

I get that there's some issues with pacing, but other than that I'm pretty pleased.