Another hunt, another skin, another order to fill. Katari was outside the back door to his family's home, cutting a freshly softened hide into pieces to begin sewing back together again with delicate precision. His sewing was not as pristine as his sister's, so she would be taking over after he had finished slicing it up. If the request had been from the lower-ranking gatherers or even a fellow crafter, Katari would have been permitted to practice his needlework. Instead, a highborn was making the request. They were only a lesser highborn. If it had been somebody important, like one of the council members or a diplomat, his parents would have exclusively handled the request from taking the beast to presenting the finished item. The Foterutu was coming up and soon he would be set out into the wilds to survive for five years, either alone or with a friend, and as a crafter he would be expected to present examples of his practicing upon his return.
Friend? With his hands busy, Katari's mind was free to wander, and when he wasn't careful, it strayed to bitter memories. Bitter memories of a terrible mistake that still haunted him and of which he was still paying the consequences. It was a simple trip he and many other cubs were taken on to familiarize them with the Scissortails' territory and borders, and to gather some delicious fruit that grew in great quantities in the area. During a free day, his ever-curious best friend had gone exploring, and of course he had tagged along. Shanku was a lot of fun and they always found really interesting things. But they had strayed across the border into another clan's land, and had been followed home by a hungry beast. He had been scolded strongly by his parents and a lot of his freedoms had been taken away for weeks. Hunters, no matter how young, were to never let themselves be stalked. Shanku was expected to grow into a hunter like her mother, and she repeatedly exhibited a dangerous recklessness that should have gotten her killed on several occasions yet did not. If those bad habits wore off on Katari, he would have a poor future. After that, they could only meet in secret, until she made too many grievous errors and was exiled, and his parents figured out from how upset he was that he had continued to see her regularly.
Exiling an eight-year-old. As serious and chilling as her disregard for the safety of the clan. It wasn't long before the others began to question his judgment for keeping company with such a deranged invidual. He never could think of a satisfactory answer. To admit he enjoyed sneaking off would be to admit that he was a disobedient liability as well. To blame her and suggest that she had tricked him would imply he had a weak mind. He doubled down on his lessons and trying to listen to his parents to the best of his ability, to cause others to doubt their belief he was dim or disobedient, but it always came back to "why, then?" He never could come up with a good answer. The other cubs wouldn't come near him for years, and began supplying their own answers when they finally did. The most frustrating was the suggestion that he had lead her astray and she had been the wrong one punished. Katari quickly stopped trying to associate with the other cubs and lost himself in his work.
Soon, that would have to stop and he would have to find somebody that was comfortable being around him. While he had managed to perform all of his hunts alone or occasionally with family, the odds of surviving the five years in the wild alone were very slim. Shanku's exile will end soon. If she can come home on time, maybe she'll go with me? But, a trained young adult going on their own was a long shot. What hope did a little cub have on a ten-year banishment? Would she even be allowed such a prestigious event after her condemnation if she did somehow manage to return? With a resigned sigh, Katari gathered the prepared strips of leather to deliver to his sister.
Related chapter...
Written for Artober.
