Before the faintest beams of sunlight were able to trickle down through the canopy and the stained glass windows embedded in his ceiling, Niranjan was already up and finishing his morning grooming. He had reached his first century during this past year and he could feel the growing pressure to announce his successor before senility or old age took him away. His son had instead settled as a clerk and maintaining records, which shifted Niranjan's pressure to his grandson. His grandson Jagan was quick witted and had the sense of duty he would expect out of the one to take his place when he resigned, but he would still have to earn his place on the council and then work his way up to high elder, which Niranjan may not live to see. Niranjan had been in his sixties when he had achieved that and there was no guarantee he would see Jagan reach it. Jagan was currently out on the Foterutu, where all the budding adults were sent out for five years to prove their survival skills and right to a place in the clan. In fact, today the scouts were to return with their reports on how the various participants were doing.
After his feathers were immaculately groomed and his clothes pristinely arranged, he strode out to the clan's governing hall to receive the status updates. As usual, he was the first to arrive early that morning. He settled into his seat and took advantage of the quiet moments before the bustle of the day began. The room was spacious and roughly circular. They had requested the dwarves not polish it to the same degree as their own halls, preferring to bask in the natural beauty of the cave. They had carved many words and designs into the walls as highlights of their history and reminders of their ethics. Niranjan had been between these walls since an apprentice in his twenties after his own Foterutu and had seen it expanded eight years ago as their relations with the dwarves had improved.
The first scout entered the room and Niranjan directed his attention to the information relayed. It began with the oldest set. Seven had been sent out five years ago, one was lost two years ago to an infection from a minocentaur wound, and another was in rough shape after slipping in the creek and gashing his leg open on a submerged limb. The second oldest group had nine, all of which were thriving. The third consisted of just two, and they were still settled in their cave. The fourth was another small group of three and had spent most of their time near a bend in the creek. Finally, those in their first year, the youngest group. Naturally, Jagan and his friends were doing well. Five more were scattered throughout the Scissortail territory, and while shaky, were holding their own.
"But what of the other four of the youngest batch?" Niranjan asked suspiciously. While I'll be glad to be rid of that one troublesome cub and that weird quiet one, another is a good hunter and the other a promising scribe!
"I... lost them," the final scout muttered.
"How could you have lost them?" Niranjan asked suspiciously.
"I tracked them to the edge of the Nyre, and after that, they took off into the Lura plains," the scout replied quietly with his eyes averted.
Niranjan sighed audibly through his nostrils as he clenched his lips tight. "Any idea where they went from there?"
"I chanced into one of the Heyen hunting parties who said they had stayed with them until the end of the summer, and went further south," the scout began.
"Did you investigate further to make sure Titir and Usri's daughter is well?" Niranjan pressed.
"Yes," the scout nodded. "With permission, I crossed through Peridæ territory to where they were last seen, and found that one's wayward uncle that travels with that man. It would seem the four of them got on a ship and were off to Mruha." The scout paused and tilted his head as he watched Niranjan close his eyes in frustration. "Um, sir, are you alright?"
"Just keep an ear out for them and let me know when they're back in range again and if they're alright," Niranjan replied with great control.
"Technically, the only rule of the Foterutu is to not return home or go to any other Sylvan villages for five years," chuckled a nearby council member. "We never set rules about leaving the Nyre or going to the settlements of other species."
"It never was an issue in the past," Niranjan said slowly as he glared at a far wall.
"The world is shrinking," the other one said. "We work with dwarves regularly, we have good relations with the kirshani, cervitaurs, gryphons, and a few dragons now, our alliance with the Heyen is stronger than ever, and it seems the human nests aren't lessening in number any time soon. I think this may be a good thing."
"These scamps are going to be the death of me yet," Niranjan rumbled and dismissed the scout before going about his daily duties.
