A Sleen and his Boy....

I took one of the pups out past the herds.. clearing even the outer bulls by a good measure to make sure I got well past the fresh sent of bosk lingering in the grasses. I asked Rook to bring Tug out with me to scent test Tesla to him. They followed behind a few hundred yards behind and down wind from us until I stopped, dismounted and gave the signal to Tesla to hold. The animal hunkered down looking rather ready to bound off at the slightest hint of action. Honestly, he looked ready to bound off at the slightest hint of the slightest hint .. of.. well... anything at all. It was a good sign actually. His eager curiosity and natural lack of fear were traits I would breed for. By all accounts.. an exceptional animal as I have already mentioned.

However, I had spent extra time with both sleen I intended to trade to the Ubara. I wanted them to make a good showing both with their training and their confirmation. I wanted her young son to be so pleased with his animal that he would rave to his Mother.. rave to his clan about his sleen. He would make wagers against him.. He would win and be proud and that warriors would see and women would talk, telling of the proud son of the Ubar Ba'atar and his sleen Tesla. That his name and mine would find its way thru the harigga adding one more arrow to my quiver and making my kennels a name in the Tuchuk.

That was my plan.... and.. it seemed a good plan.

I gave Tesla the signal again then walked over and layed a tattered hide over his head so he couldn't see, then signaled Rook to bring Tug around to cross about a hundred yards in front of the sleen's position walking thru the grass carefully. The boy walked quietly and softly behind the older warrior.. careful not to bend the grasses and give away his trail too easily. His young eyes watching me.. watching to see Tesla, watching Rook from behind. Tesla perked under the leather as soon as he caught scent of Tug which made the boy grin wide and I straightened my shoulders and grinned back at him. The two wound thru the grasses in a wide pattern of three circles then went west crossing a small stream near a wide shallow spot. A spot I had hand picked as a particularly difficult crossing to keep the scent over.. Out into the field on the far side making another set of three large circles thru the grass on that side of the stream. That is when there was a small hiccup in my original plan.

Any good Tuchuk knows that there are three commands that are very important to get straight and distinct in the head of any sleen over two weeks old. Those are "track" "hunt" and "retrieve", track means follow and find the prey, hunt means follow, find and kill said prey, and retrieve is find and bring back prey unharmed. Unharmed being the operative word here. Unharmed being the very life altering word here.. the word currently threatening my future free of visits from the black masks.

Tesla broke from his position without any of those commands, just as Tug and Rook were crossing back across the stream... The old warrior drew his quiva watching the sleen making tight circles in the grass searching for their scent. Took him about two circles to find the boys scent and go racing off after it following the trail around the three circles. I saw Rook tense watching.. I tensed myself hoping like hell he didn't decided to put his quiva thru Tesla's skull before he knew the sleen's intentions. I would bet my life that the sleen would not harm to the boy. I was betting my life that the sleen would not harm the boy but Rook looked to want no part in that particular wager. The last damn thing I needed was there to be a cloud of doubt hanging over my kennel because he killed Tesla just incase.

The transition between breeder/trainer relationship with a sleen and an owner/master relationship is a tenuous exchange of loyalty. If all goes well, from that moment on Tesla would belong to the boy Tug. The alternative is not pretty and always ends with the death of that particular sleen. On the bright side the young sleen performed spectacularly.. Tugs eyes lit up like a spark on the dry plains watching him follow the trail around those circles and across the stream.. making the bend back in our direction from the third circle and into the home stretch, head long for the boy. At this point I had broken out into a full on run myself.. hoping vainly to reach Rook and Tug before Tesla did, Knowing the fucking sleen had the advantage in those four extra legs. Tug broke then too and started yelling for the sleen, cheering him on, jumping and waving and yelling like the women at the love wars egging on their favored warrior. I yelled to Rook.. I have no idea if he heard me but, thank the sky, he did not send that quiva flying.. Tesla hit Tug back on his ass in the stream.. bouncing and splashing so that I could not see how the boy was handling the situation. When I got there damned if the sleen didn't opt for the "retrieve" command and was busily trying to drag Tug back out of the stream by the tunic on his back.

I had to laugh in spite of myself.

Communication

Her form.. muscular and feminine.. the length of her bare spine calling to me from across my wagon. I crossed the distance quickly.. not bothering to step lightly as the turian carpets muffled the sounds well enough she would have enough difficulty triangulating my direction before I hit her from behind... One fist full of hair.. the other full of the flesh of her left thigh..

I was not gentle with this woman..

she...
was not gentle with me.

She is of the plains, a dark skin beauty trained for battle. Her teeth sharpened like that of a larl... and her body scared some by her own hand. I took her from the wagons of traders.. Unnatural dweller worms hanging the bones of their dead from their own wagons. They sickened me.. I did not even want to get close enough to kill them.. in fact, as it happened I did not have to. It was fucking sweet the way they fell to my arrows pouring out of the wagon at just the right speed! I love it when everything works like I want it to!

She landed sprawled on her belly already reaching back behind her to find purchase clawing my leathers, trying to give herself enough leverage to roll over and face me. Trying to use those fucking teeth of hers! Truth be told.. that is one of the reasons I enjoy her. She reminds me how good it is to be tuchuk! The strength of the plains and bosk are in her.. She is not weak. If she were.. I would have broken her by now. If she were weak she would be sleen bait. If she were weak I would not want her.
I did not allow her enough time to grasp my leather before I slammed her body hard against the floor of the wagon. I yanked her head back and sank my own teeth into the back of her shoulder until I felt her body relax beneath me.. There is a strength to those small gestures of surrender, they feed me.. they drive me. I let go of her shoulder and growled into her ear..

"I'm going to hurt you."

my statement was simple.. I needed her to understand on a very basic level. I needed her to know. When she relaxed into the floor she pulled her arms back in, resting her palms flat on the carpet her movements became slow and sedate, deliberate she pushed her torso up from the floor twisting back to look at me she spoke..

"I know"

Her tone low.. even soothing. She rarely spoke to me.. Rarely spoke unless I demanded it of her. I released my fist from her hair.. allowed her the movement to speak... to answer.. to look at me. That was the way between us.. It worked for me. It seemed to work for her. She no longer spoke of killing me.. she didn't even try very hard. Even seeking me out in her own way.. with her own strength. She did her chores.. cooked, gathered fuel, did the morning watering of my sleen... She did what she had to because she is no fool. Occasionally.. she did something she wanted to to show me her strength and I respected that. I have not chained her to my wagon in many hands now. She has not made me regret that.

I hurt her that evening.. in many many ways. It wasn't the paga..Although there are times I would blame the paga. I wanted to feel it... I needed to. Her pulse in my palm.. her fear splattered across my chest. I needed to feel it solid like the plains, like the sky.. not faded and weak falling out from beneath me into oblivion leaving me un sated and alone.

If nothing else I would keep her simply because she can do this for me, and live.

Of Sleen and Kaiila

I am not an un scarred boy.. I am not a coward and I am not weak or ill equipped. I am Tuchuk! I am proud! I am favored and strong and I will walk among the people of the first fires because they are the best of the Tuchuk. I am one of the best.. and yet I have come to the realization that there are a few Tuchuk tricks I have yet to learn. I am determined though.. sleen may not be adept at learning a new Master but they can learn new tricks.

But let me back up.. alittle

This sleen pups born in the northern grasses were particularly difficult... I lost two out of eight in Caoh's litter before they dried off and two more looked to be candidates for the cull which is a story of its own entirely. Mena only had three pups which frankly was better than I expected. two male and one female and I thanked the sky for that little gray female. Mena is my fathers best bitch.. brought out of her kennels one last time. A breeding won in a gamble over a vulo egg balanced on end, also another story entirely. She is old, well past her breeding prime, an animal I grew up with and have a great deal of respect for. I did not want to miss an opportunity to own one of her litters. She was bred to Morow, an impressive stud who's breeding is sought after among my clansmen for his heavy bodied strength and large wider set jaw line. Morow is owned by Flynn the Head of the Sleen Handlers Clan and the coveted breeding to Morow, an arrangement between Flynn and my Father Darsohk. Damned if this little bitch wasn't going to make a name for me among the top kennels in my clan!

The smaller male pup from Mena's litter will be traded to my uncle for an unrelated male of excellent breeding. The son of Afton, an excellent sire from the kennels of the former Ubar Karym of the sleen handlers clan. Yes.. it was a lot of years ago.. and a lot of breeding.. but the bloodline was noteworthy and the pup of excellent conformation. The Larger male pup would be traded to Flynn for next seasons breeding of Caho to Morow. That brings me back to where I started. Caho was line bred to her own father and the surviving pups are exceptional animals. That is the gamble with selective line breeding of sleen, you win and you get animals of exceptional quality, traits distilled from one bloodline carefully...however the other option is not pretty.. distilling the flaws in a bloodline leading to the loss of entire litters. You end up with an entire season of wasted work and food and a littler of pups with exceptional defects who usually die at birth. The six pups from Caho's litter still left, two of which will be traded to Cana for my a kaiila. Yes.. Cana has my kaiila.. and I have her sleen and there is nothing more to the story but to wait for the laughter to die down. Except perhaps having two of my sleen given to sons of the former Ubar Ba'atar which is just another notch in my belt. Two more will be traded to Commander Fonce... the price is still to be negotiated but I do have a few ideas in mind.. and the last will be kept in my own kennels.

Cana.. has.. my.. Kaiila...

There is a trick here... I just need to find it.