Day three of Tocho's three day ultimatum arrived on the same day as the Trials for Shaman Alpha. The Trials went smoothly, a new Alpha was promoted... even on such a day the tension was thick. No one had forgotten Tocho's decree to Maralah, and few knew of their battle just the day before.
Maralah turned to Tocho, "it's time, I suppose, to tell you the story." It was perhaps a blessing that Nariko was not present for the Shaman Trials and so would miss the story of her father's betrayal and hunt of her mother. It didn't take long to impart the story to the eagerly awaiting Pack. Maralah left much of it out, focusing instead on what she felt was important. How she met Mingan, the marriage, the discovery of his true allegiance and her escape. There was no need to explain the love she still felt that caused such a horrible ache in her heart, making the betrayal a wound that wouldn't heal instead of a source of rage to feed off.
During her story the Elder of the Soul, Onatam, watched her with a critical eye. Not critical of her storytelling or of the events, but of what he could see deep in her soul. He roared just as loudly as the rest when she came to the betrayal, but he seemed to listen to the parts of the story untold.
Tocho was surprisingly silent, Maralah knew this was more like the calm before a storm but hoped that three days of being angry at her was enough to keep him from rushing off on an unplanned hunt. The longer the Chief stayed silent, the quieter the rest of the Pack grew... waiting for the hammer to fall. Finally, Tocho spoke, his voice was quiet, calm, deadly, "his blood will flow."
"Mingan still searches for his daughter, though he thinks he has a son. As long as Mingan is alive, Nariko is in danger." There were grumbles at Maralah's words, the Pack was restless... the Pack wanted blood.
~
Maralah sat stiffly in the grass as she watched the young hunters of the Pack practice against one another. The Hunter Pet Trials would be coming soon and each wanted the glory of winning for their companions. She heard Onatam approach long before he sat next to her, there was nothing stealthy about the gentle giant, Elder of the Soul. “Ready to talk?” he said gently, his gaze directed toward the sparring Kindred.
Maralah glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before looking back at the hunters, not really seeing them. “What do you mean?” she asked innocently, pulling at the grass absentmindedly.
Onatam smiled and gently punched Maralah’s thigh in a soft rebuke, “about what you didn’t say at the Shaman Trials, and what we should be doing now… about Mingan, and about Nariko.”
Maralah looked again at Onatam, she didn’t bother to hide the pain in her eyes, she knew he’d see it anyway. “Yes, I still love him. But Tocho means more to me and Mingan has crossed too many lines and burned too many bridges. Part of me hopes that he is capable of repenting, but I know better… I’ve seen too much.”
Once again Maralah looked away, staring at the broken blades of grass in her hand, “as for what to do… I don’t know. Hunting him down will tip him off that I’ve told the Pack what’s happened. And if he’s got spies he knows anyway, and knows about Nariko… which means she needs to stay with the Pack. But if we hunt him she’ll be closer to him and in even more danger…” Maralah’s voice was picking up volume as her tension rose, Onatam quickly rested a hand on her shoulder to stop the circuitous thought processes.
“Shhh, we’ll figure something out, Maralah. Perhaps if I take a small hunting party, leaving the majority of the Pack, including Tocho, here with you? We’ll find him, Maralah, and make him pay for each drop of your blood he spilled.” Despite his vicious words, Onatam’s deep tauren voice was soft and soothing. There was something terrifying and yet thrilling about the fire in his eyes. No one hurt this Shaman’s Pack.
No comments:
Post a Comment