Hungry like the Rancor

[Cearia Tserta]

The night that Mother Anjali and Sister Cearia had taken their vows, the Clan Mother made it abundantly clear that her Chiorikem, her wife, was not to stray from the settlement for two days. Cearia's duties as leader of the Undead Fires hunters would be managed by her seasoned seconds. It had to be stated because Anjali knew her bonded all too well, sensing that the huntress would leave the next day to hunt to ensure the bellies of the clan were full. The vows she gave to the Clan Mother that night were just as important as the ones Cearia gave to her people since taking the oath of the Undead Fires.

That was unacceptable. The might behind Anjali's words explaining that she would enjoy Cearia on the furs of their bed hadn't quieted the hunter's concerns, but the kiss that followed did. There were no further arguments from her mate and on the third day, Cearia left on expedition.

It was ten days later that Cearia came running (https://em.wattpad.com/191de58d4350b41339d422bda470c267445f8cd0/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f 776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f 7279496d6167652f4a6b4b31796b393649682d355a413d3d2d 3635363531343436302e313537333136616366373737396264 623931333639373037313031312e676966?s=fit&w=720&h=720) into view from the surrounding forests, causing a stir among the clan. She always returned with a confident stride, surrounded by the other hunters with food and provisions not alone and frantic. The sight was strange to her people, but it was clear she was looking for someone, or something.

Cearia knew that Anjali would have sensed that she had returned and with news, but it didn't stop the hunter from scanning the area for signs where Anjali or Iss-Ka may be. The hunters that accompanied her on the latest hunt were a couple hours behind, slowed down with the weight of success. She was the quickest on foot and raced 20 kilometers without break since leaving them. What happened hours ago was too important and she needed the wisdom of the wardens to capitalize on what she had stumbled upon - two young rancors no more than 4 meters tall, were wandering the far side of the canyons. Her group consisted of fine warrior hunters, but none of them were blessed with the ability to tame these majestic creatures. Nor were they equipped to capture them without taking causalities on either side - not with the sacks of meat, leathers and furs they were carrying. The supplies were the priority and needed to be protected.

They fell back and hid, escaping upwind as Cearia counted her blessings that they came across the pair during the day when rancor vision was poorest. Time was of the essence and she ran as fast as she could for aid, knowing she'd be able to pick up the trail when she returned with the wardens.

Unsatisfied that she saw neither her mate or the voritor, Cearia looked to the nearest clan member for guidance.

"Mother Anjali," she gasped out between breaths. "Where ... where is she?"

The night brother lowered his head in respect and pointed towards the river. "The Clan Mother was last seen heading towards the river, Sister Cearia."

She pat his arm in gratitude, relieved that Anjali wasn't too far.

"Is something wrong, Great Sister?" The title started to be used the day she left, a way to honor Cearia's command of the hunters and as the chosen of the Clan Mother.

"No," she answered loud enough for all to hear, despite the breathlessness. She even managed a smile to reassure the people before feet were forced to start moving again.

Her muscles protested because the short stop had fooled them with rest. The ache in pushing them to move elicited a grunt from the hunter, "It's good news. But we must act quickly!"

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali had felt privileged to witness the change in Cearia from the moment she had returned the morning of their wedding, onward to the time they had spent together. She remembered how her mate had had to be coaxed away from her duties so they could enjoy each other's company, which included consuming their union, before she could go on another hunting expedition. While the Clan Mother had great respect for her companion's role in the Clan, she hadn't wanted their wedding to be but a stolen instant; and she had been pleased when her Chiorikem chose to spend the longest amount of time she ever had in the confines of the caves where the Undead Fires had had been dwelling in the last months.

The Beast Warden got caught from her reverie by the swatting of Iss-Ka massive tail against her calf. She looked at the Voritor that was finishing to enjoy her latest meal. She grinned at her creature.

"And you even behaved wonderfully," she said, as if picking up the conversation again.

The Voritor's expression and body language showed she was well-pleased with the praise her mistress bestowed upon her. It was the truth though; for there had been no crying baby flier nor intrusive lizard. She knew not whether anyone had approached her chambers but for sure Cearia and her hadn't been disturbed once.

She had been cleaning up her weapons as she did on a regular basis, choosing to spend some time by herself in the midst of her demanding duties. The spot by the river had been a favorite of hers since the first days they had set up camp in what had become their settlement. While the trees, bushes, and flowers differed from her birth region, there was something about it that reminded her of her childhood. She could even imagine her late sisters play in the water if she let her memories run amok, which she did from time to time. Recalling the hard path that had brought them to the present time was a powerful reminder that drove her to continue to lead with a firm grip, all the while encouraging all clan members to give their best for the betterment and strengthening of the Undead Fires.

She suddenly felt a tremor in the Force. She looked up at once, sensing a commotion in the clan, the eye of the unraveling storm being her mate. Iss-Ka reacted too, picking on the Beast Warden's change of behavior.

"Ezat mae," she commanded at once.

The Voritor slithered away, picking up speed as she ran towards the camp to find her mistress's beloved.

Anjali felt ripples of emergency, but there wasn't a sense of danger she could feel from her wife. She was most curious as she got up, putting her weapons back to her belt, and adjusting her tools into a pack she slung over her shoulder, as she stormed off, into the huntress's direction.

It didn't take long until she found Cearia coming her way, Iss-Ka in tow. She stopped in front of her wife, noticing her exhaustion.

"What happened?"

[Cearia Tserta]

Surprised gasps and yelps came from her clanspeople at the voritor's sudden appearance from the forest. Iss-Ka charged forward, immediately honing in on Cearia's scent and soon her form. Her tongue darted out slowly as she excitedly pawed at the ground, ready to bring the hunter to Anjali the moment Cearia reached her. By the time she did, her chest was prickly with heat as if she had been speared straight through. Still ... she pushed.

"Iss-Ka ..." She spoke the beast's name with harsh breaths, barely able to get the last syllable in with a grunt. "Where ... where is... where is she?"

She didn't like speaking plainly about her wife before the clan, but Cearia's words were limited.

The voritor only wanted to carry out Anjali's command and cared little for formal titles now. Iss-Ka had found her master's mate and would promptly bring her back. A quick thwack against the hunter's boot was all the encouragement needed for Cearia to follow the voritor into the forest. The few moments that it took to be reunited with her wife felt like a lifetime had past. Her body was screaming for mercy, to rest, water, anything but she couldn't. Not yet.

This was not quite the homecoming she has envisioned for the two of them so soon after their joining, but the gods had offered a blessing for the clan and they needed to take advantage of it. When she stopped before Anjali, Cearia feared she would topple over and fall to the ground, her body so used to moving, but she managed to remain on her feet. It was uncertain what strength remained inside her to hunch over and clutch at her thighs as the world around her grew bright and blurry. She was on the verge of passing out.

She shook it off, focusing on getting her breath back to a proper rhythm as she answered the question with a careful extension of her head upwards to look at her wife - disappointed that her vision was still muddy.

"Rancors. Young ones. At the ... at the canyon ..." She swallowed painfully hard, her throat tender from the endurance it took to be here.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was glad that they were outside of the settlement, so only Iss-Ka would be audience to her wife's exhaustion. She knew that the huntress was like her in that she refused to display any sign of weakness before the clan. But in the privacy of the woods, it was a different story.

Her mate's words registered; but first things first, she handed Cearia her water-filled flask.

"Drink," she said, leaving no room for argument.

She was already thinking about the best approach for retrieving the young Rancors.

"I'll speak to the other Beast Wardens at once, but you and I will leave first. We'll take Vitti."

She knew that Cearia had never interacted much with her Rancor; but it was their best option. It would allow Cearia to rest a bit, and the Rancor had a motherly streak to her, which had already helped with a couple of recent additions to the Clan's Rancor.

"Iss-Ka, stay with Cearia. I'll be right back," she said, before she scampered off.

[Cearia Tserta]

Anjali would find no argument from her mate, only eyes that softened in gratitude as Cearia took the flask. The smooth leather felt like home against her fingertips before uncapping and downing its contents. She tipped her head back and gulped the water down with quick desperation. It was a messy sight - water oozing around her lips, streaking along her chin and cheeks, washing away dirt and sweat in clean lines.

She brought the flask down, gasping for air, as Anjali explained the next steps. She nodded her understanding before using her knuckles to clean her face, glad that her part was done for now. Anjali was the one who could help tame the rancors and spur the rest of the wardens into swift action. It was why her haste was to find her out of all in the settlement, and not simply because she was her mate.

As Cearia watched Anjali rush off, she lazily hung an arm over the voritor's muscular shoulder after closing the flask. She glanced at Iss-Ka with an unspoken question before bone-weary legs buckled under her.

She hissed, but felt grateful that her mate was long gone and not here to see this. Iss-Ka was sympathetic, swinging her tail around to steady the hunter's descent - helping her to sit instead of collapsing against the ground. Cearia gave her a warm, but thin, smile of gratitude - she hadn't the strength for anything more. Then in an act that surprised her, Iss-Ka folded her legs and followed Cearia to the ground. She tucked her tail against Cearia's abdomen, scrunching her close to know that it was okay to lay against her.

Cearia found herself chuckling, which sounded more like a strangled cough, and accepted Iss-Ka's offer. Her grattitude was a small token of affection by stroking the length of her tail, remembering a time when all she wanted was a chance to touch the poisonous lizard, and here she was using the great beast as a bedroll. Iss-Ka felt the hunter's hand slowing as Cearia's body could no longer remain awake. Her arms rolled off the voritor's massive tail while sinking against Iss-Ka.

Cearia was home, delivered her message to Anjali, and safe. She could finally rest.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali cared not that her wife looked like a mess at this point. She was proud of her for having run all the way back to the settlement to let her know as soon as possible about the young Rancor sighting. While they would be able to have the ones the Clan already had gathered, mate down the line, adding to the numbers was important. They couldn't afford to pass on any opportunity that could strengthen the Undead Fires.

The Clan Mother knew that Iss-Ka would take good care of the Huntress while she scampered off to get a hold of Sisters Kadia and Aljia, the two other Beast Wardens who had received the most training prior to the cataclysm and had continued to hone their skills with tremendous success since the reformation of the current Clan. She was glad that both women had been nearby. It would make things easier. Yet they were currently working on Kadia to bond better with a fierce male Rancor, and stopping everything right now would ruin the progress.

Both Sisters agreed to catch up a soon as possible, joining them on Aljia's rancor, who came from the same litter as Vitti.

Once that was settled, Anjali went to fetch some dried fruits and meat for Cearia on the way there, for her mate could use some food to replenish her strength. She filled two more flasks, and grabbed several leather bounds that could help with the young Rancors. Then she made it to the Rancor enclosure and found Vitti, who perked up as soon as she smelled her owner approach. She had been a strong soul from the get go, but Anjali still marveled at how big and resilient she had become compared to the scrawny young Rancor she had been when she had first found her.

Adjusting all her supplies in larger bags attached to the harness that allowed her to ride the beast, Anjali then took her back to the forest to find Cearia and Iss-Ka. The stomping wasn't discreet, but she still caught sight of a sleeping Huntress cuddled with Iss-Ka, which warmed her heart. The Voritor gave her a nasty look as if she should have given more time to her mate to rest. The lizard also didn't like to share her mistress with the Rancor although both beasts had learned to cooperate quite well in the last months, thanks to extensive time spent socializing them with one another.

Anjali stopped a few meters away, and climbed down to come near Cearia, to check on her and likely help her get on the Rancor. Vitti seemed highly intrigued by the other woman, especially as she realized she was important and friendly to both the Clan Mother and the voritor.

[Cearia Tserta]

CLOMP ... CLOMP ... STOMP ... CRACKLE ... STOMP ...

The ground shook, broadcasting the return of Mother Anjali with her bonded rancor as they traversed through the forest. Vitti's arms pushed through the thick underbrush as if swatting insects and a fallen log cracked in two was barely noticed when stepped on. It should have been enough to stir Cearia awake, but the exhaustion she faced was extensive. Muscles and joints throbbed with overuse and to be able to recover some strength, Cearia's mind switched off for a dreamless state. She didn't even twitch when Iss-Ka's head raised in annoyance at both her master and the rancor.

These are the moments that Cearia questioned her place in the clan. If she had been born with a natural affinity for the Force like most sisters, she could have pushed herself harder, arrived sooner, would not have succumbed to exhaustion so easily. She was just a woman. Everything she was now was a testament to the training her mother had instilled upon her since she took her first steps. Her natural affinity to walk and be one with the lands was a gift from the gods for one not born with magic - so her mother said. Cearia felt it was a curse most days before finding Anjali. Less so now, but her heart remained weighted with feelings of inadequacy.

Iss-Ka protectively tghtened her tail around Cearia as Vitti's curiosity grew. Anjali's mate was hers first. She was the one that pushed them together and she was the one that watched over the hunter as she slept in safety.

"Not so tight..." complained Cearia, weak arms pushing at the tail to give her some space.

The voritor did loosen her hold, gently pressing the tip of her tail against Cearia's cheek, unfortunately smearing more of the black painted tendril pattern that curved along it. The desired effect worked, rousing the hunter in semi-wakefulness. "All right ... all right ..."

She groaned, head no longer spinning. Her body vehemently protested movements, but she had to bend an arm to shove Iss-Ka's tail away from her face, though it was with affection. "I'm awake. What ... Oh ..."

Her face brightened at seeing Anjali walking towards her but looked perplexed at the rancor.

"Of course... You went to fetch Vitti ..." she blinked several times in memory and scowled, looking away. "I'm sorry my body gave out, Clan Mother. I have no excuse."

It was just them and Cearia should be less formal around her wife, but her self loathing came out like this - with titles. The hunter's sabbatical had healed a lot of the doubts plaguing her, but still they lingered.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali mumbled some words to Vitti, as she rested a hand on the massive predator. The Rancor didn't move, and waited quietly, but her eyes remained on the Huntress and the Voritor. Iss-Ka was looking smug, but a glare from the Clan Mother had her turn the attitude down. She was still behaving very protectively towards the exhausted Night Sister, but she was slightly meeker in her staring contest with Vitti.

The last thing Anjali needed was an ego battle right now.

She couldn't help smiling at the interaction between Iss-Ka and her wife. She was still elated that these two got along so well.

Her expression became serious again when Cearia looked puzzled at the sight of Vitti, even though she quickly connected the dots despite her exhaustion. When her mate behaved stiffly, using titles that had no need to be in a private interaction, Anjali realized that Cearia was blaming herself, even before she finished her sentence. She knew that switch back too well already. That was a telltale sign that the huntress's anxiety and self-deprecating sentiment were taking hold of her.

"Come here," she simply said, offering a hand to her wife to help her stand up.

"We'll cover quicker ground with Vitti, and she'll be helpful. The other Beast Wardens will catch up soon."

She didn't move right away, having one question before they climbed up to ride Vitti.

"Do you want Iss-Ka to come with us?"

She was fine either way, for she knew that the Voritor liked keeping an eye on the baby fliers, but she also knew that she was good support to her mate. While she wasn't going to address the whole self-doubt matter, it was nevertheless an option that might help her exhausted beloved.

She caught sight of the glare Iss-Ka gave Vitti, but she stayed put.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia bristled with confusion as Anjali shrugged off her statement. No forgiveness was bestowed upon her, nor condemnation of the hunter's behavior towards herself. It was as if she had said nothing at all about her failure.

Her expression remained bewildered as she considered the offered hand. The stubborn part of her wanted to ignore it and rise on her on - prove that enough strength remained inside her to counter the initial claim. She knew better. Her legs were weak like winter leaves - a gentle breeze able to disturb a once strong stem loose before the long fall towards the ground.

Tight lipped, she forced a grunt down as she reached for Anjali's hand, accepting help. Fingers tightly dug into her mate's forearm while wobbly legs found sure footing, afraid if she let go too soon, she'd fall. That was unacceptable. To fall to the ground in exhaustion twice in one day would dishonor Anjali's choice in bonding with Cearia in the hunter's eyes.

"Yes. An adult rancor would help calm the young ones." She thought back to what was seen with the hunting party. The pair pounded boulders with frustration and any animal sound spooked them into roaring. Their heads twisted and turned with panic, huddling together for comfort before storming off. "They were ... scared. Unsure."

The more she talked, her confidence slowly came back. "They're leaving an easy trail for me to find."

After explaining, Anjali offered a choice for Cearia and Iss-Ka looked eagerly towards the hunter, whipping her tail along the grass and ready to pounce if she said yes. It touched her that her wife deferred the decision as it was Anjali's right as the master of the voritor. She fought a smile as Iss-Ka slanted her head to the side and slowly darted her tongue at Cearia, laying it on thick.

"She did watch over me. It'd be wrong not to include her," she surmised.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was very willing to discuss whatever weighted on her wife's mind; but she also knew that in such a state of exhaustion, doubled with the fact they had to get to these young Rancors sooner than later, circumstances would likely dissolve any conversation into a fruitless argument. That was why she had chosen to simply ignore her mate's apologies for the time being, even though she saw the brief confusion it elicited from the huntress.

At least, Cearia accepted the offered hand, so things could be worse. She stood firm even as her mate cling on her forearm for dear life. She didn't flinch and let her choose whenever she would let go. She was willing to help and didn't consider her mate weak at all; but she also knew how not to coddle too much for right now she worried it would only heighten Cearia's discomfort and shame.

"And Vitti has already proven the motherly kind," she added to her wife's remark.

She nodded as Cearia gave some information about the young Rancor sighting. She also picked on how confidence appeared to return to her as she immersed herself into what she did best.

"They likely lost their mother a few days ago then. They might have ran away in fear if the death was violent, and then got lost."

She nodded when Cearia chose to have Iss-Ka accompany them.

"Alright, then off we go," she said.

The Voritor was happy with the decision and after reacting to Cearia, she came to gently wrap her tail around the Clan Mother's leg, giving a brief but definite smug look at Vitti, before giving some space to the couple.

Anjali then walked up to Vitti, who crouched for her rider to climb up. Once in place, Anjali held out a hand for Cearia to sit behind her. The Rancor sniffed in the huntress's direction for sure, but she behaved well, having understood that Cearia was precious to her rider, and thus behaving accordingly.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia had considered the mother dying as well, but there were no signs of the body. The young rancors could have covered a lot of ground in their grief and fear during the aftermath, especially if it were gruesome like Anjali proposed.

She looked at Vitti, hoping that the rancor's motherly instincts could comfort the pair and allow the wardens to bring them under control. Wildlife was trying blossom in the areas around the settlement and stampeding rancors would be a deterrent, let alone the sheer amount of damage the frightened beasts had been leaving in their wake wouldn't help the foliage thrive either. Vitti's strides were commanded by Anjali so the size of the beast would leave controlled damage behind - like the fallen log. It mattered little that it had been smashed in arrival. She thought how lucky they had been finding the baby fliers. If not, Cearia felt her stomach ache at the thought that if they had managed to survive, surely they would have been trampled to death. They needed to secure the rancors to not only bolster the numbers of the Undead Fires, but to allow the creatures and lands of Dathomir to recover and that could not be accomplished with these two unchecked.

When Anjali release her grip, Cearia remained upright. The little rest had given her just enough strength to exert herself if she took it slow. She followed her wife, waiting for Anjali to secure herself atop of Vitti.

Much like her interactions with Iss-Ka in the beginning, Vitti was curious, though her demeanor was far more tempered. The beast patiently waited as her mistress climbed atop her and then took the time to peer down at the woman. Large nostrils widened as Vitti began to memorize Cearia's scent. She was curious what the object of her mistress' affections smelled like in case she was sought after to find her. Her jowls widened as she puffed in exhalation towards the hunter in a simple greeting as she was not commanded to do anything else. Iss-Ka quickly flicked her tongue out towards Vitti with annoyance but did nothing else since Anjali needed voritor and rancor to play nice.

For the hunter, if she were not willed awake enough by the playful voritor, Vitti's breath certainly had. The ranor had recently eaten, bolma if her nose was not mistaken, and it smelled like a regurgitated belch. Vitti stood there, unawares that the face Cearia made was one of repulsion.

"At least you eat well ..." she muttered before grabbing Anjali's forearm once again.

She pressed hard into Vitti's thick, protective, skin and climbed upwards, taking her place behind Anjali. As she entwined arms around her wife's waist, Cearia's heart fluttered with exhilaration. Never in her life would she think it possible to be riding atop a rancor as it was forbidden to her by the Red Hills Clan. It vexed her that her heart was shackled by years of their traditions and wondered what her mother and sisters would think of her now. Would they have anguished over Cearia's choices for survival or be proud of the honor she brought to the Undead Fires with her innate abilities as a hunter, wedding the Clan Mother, and being allowed to sit on such a majestic beast?

Her hold around Anjali tightened in consequence to wandering thoughts and tucked her forehead against her wife's shoulder blades in comfort, overwhelmed once more. She breathed slowly and deeply, working at calming her mind because she would soon be called upon to pick up the trail ...

[Anjali Raskor]

Based on the little Cearia had told her, and her own experience, Anjali believed the two young Rancors were orphaned. The cataclysm while well behind them now, still had consequences upon the flora and fauna. The Undead Fires were able to provide well for their members, as well as their herds and creatures; but the ones in the wild had also suffered. As much as the Clan Mother believed in letting wildlife do its own thing, she was keenly aware they had to take care of the lands they had claimed as their own, for the Clan's well-being and growth.

In that regard letting loose Rancors in the perimeter was a concern, which was why Anjali had also been glad that her wife hadn't hesitated to run back at once so the beast wardens would be able to catch the runaways and bring them into the herd. Rancors were powerful beasts that supported a Clan well, but let to their own devices, they could be highly destructive.

Anjali wouldn't say she was immune to Rancor's breath; but it wasn't that far from the truth either. Having been exposed to such things since she was a toddler, she could stomach them with enough ease as not to feel atrociously nauseous. Helping with the Rancor's enclosure had been among her first tasks as aspiring Beast Warden when only a child. Some Night Sisters from the Lavender Rift thought it was a fairly dangerous idea to expose little ones that early on to such gigantic beasts, but Anjali was grateful for it. It had definitely taught her a lot.

She grinned at her wife's reaction to Vitti's breathing on her; but was happy that Cearia put up with it well enough, especially given how exhausted she was.

Once Cearia had her arms wrapped tightly around her, she had Vitti stand up so they could be on their way. She smiled as she felt her wife's forehead against her shoulder.

"There's a handful of dried fruits and meat in the pouch on my right hip, besides a refilled flask," she told her, knowing she might need to eat something.

She knew which way Cearia had come from originally, so she headed that way, Iss-Ka following at a safe distance, albeit as close as possible. While the Voritor had good survival instincts, she was too proud to risk appearing weak or fearful before the Rancor.

The Clan Mother cast her senses out in the distance, feeling a torrent of life in the strong network that was a testimony of Dathomir's rich life, even after the cataclysm. After a certain distance from the clan, she looked over her shoulder, at the huntress.

"Which way?"

Cearia's directions would provide the quickest way to the two errant Rancors.

[Cearia Tserta]

Once food was offered, Cearia's perked up and slid her forehead along Anjali's upper back before looking down at the belt. She kept her left hand secured on her wife's waist since she couldn't trust herself to not be jostled about atop a rancor and risk falling. Her strength was taking a substantially long time in returning and falling off the rancor without a secure hold was highly likely.

"Thank you, Clan Mother," she said, reaching to loosen the pouch, practically yanking it open with how ravenous her appetite was.

She stuffed her hand inside the pouch, grabbing whatever was closest, and unceremoniously shoved the meat inside her mouth. Manners the hunter had not. Cearia grabbed handfuls of food over and over again, barely taking a breath between swallowing. She ate like a ravenous rancor and all that was missing was the satisfied roar after consuming a fresh kill.

Next was tugging the water flagon free and downing it contents. Not one drop fell free from her mouth as she crinkled her eyes with wonder at the sight before her. She slowly lowered the flagon and with the same hand that held it, wiped her mouth as she had a new appreciation of the land from this view. They were not quite at the treetops, but it was captivating seeing the canopy so close that Cearia could almost touch the upper most leaves. It brought a childlike smile to her face, full of simple wonder and joy at discovering something new. She had to climb trees to be this close. Now she couldn't help reaching out to touch the brances at arms length, listening to the small rustle of twigs and leaves brushing against her and the flagon.

"Which way?"

Her wife's question forced her to lower her arm and focus.

"They were quickly moving east of the canyons." Not that Anjali needed it pointed out, but Cearia raised her arm over her mate's shoulder towards their destination. "Much further than where we found the fliers."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali had to bite her tongue not to tell her wife she didn't need to be all hell bent on being formal; but she let it slide again. The way Cearia reached for the food and gobbled everything as if there was no tomorrow was an obvious sign that she had been correct in her choice to bring some supplies to help the huntress recoup.

The Clan Mother chuckled softly given the Rancor-like sounds coming from behind her. She almost expected her beloved to belch or roar as loud as humanly possible to complete the picture, although it didn't happen. She caught sight of Iss-Ka on the ground, who kept as close as possible, attention circling through the surroundings, the Rancor, and both witches.

She smiled when she caught sight of the huntress's expression as she reached out to run her fingers against the high branches. Anjali might be used to ride a Rancor but she still appreciated the uniqueness of the experience; and she was glad that her wife found appreciation for it as well, especially now that she was feeling better.

She nodded and looked into the direction Cearia gave her. Returning her attention to Vitti, she adjusted her direction. While it was tempting to rush, she didn't let Vitti go full speed either, for she was mindful of the vegetation and the wild life. There was no reason to bring destruction at the moment.

They carried on in silence, save for the careful stomping and a few birds passing by in the distance.

Anjali felt the ripples of fear from the two young Rancors moments before she actually caught sight of them. When they were within visual walking distance, she realized the younglings had stopped. They looked terrified but also immensely curious at the sight of Vitti.

The Beast Warden stopped her ride and had her crouch so both Cearia and her could get back to the ground. At once Iss-Ka was close to them. Vitti rose again but stayed quiet, waiting to see what Anjali would do.

Looking at her wife, Anjali gestured towards the two lost Rancors.

"I'll approach first," she stated.

[Cearia Tserta]

Not that she believed that Vitti would feel it, but Cearia let her fingers run along the thick skin, marveling at its texture. She was grateful that Anjali brought food and water and for Vitti being her legs - the silent journey allowed Cearia to comfortably rest. Her hold on her mate didn't loosen and there were a few times that Cearia spared a glance at Anjali's profile. Her wife was focused, eyes piercing the lands for any signs of the rancors, probably using her extraordinary senses to feel for them too. It was a formidable combination - skill and magic.

Her eyes scoured the area as well, noting bushes and wildflowers trampled into the ground. Even a young tree was broken in half, bent over like a snapped twig. That was their trail after the young rancors ran into the forest. With both hands on Anjali's waist, Cearia closed her eyes and listened. One by one she peeled away the sounds of their travel - Vitti's stomping, Iss-Ka's quick feet through the grass, how her and Anjali's shook during the ride. She erased the birds squawking in terror of the rancors, the rustling of leaves touched by the wind ... she strained to listen further, jutting her chin out with effort.

She could barely hear the soft rumblings from the pair. Opening her eyes, Anjali must have sensed them because they were both looking in the same direction. Her eyes widened in relief that they had successfully found them and for the time being, stationary. With her part coming to an end, she deferred to Anjali on how best to approach.

As quickly as she could, Cearia made it to the ground, tempering her excitement. As astonishing as this moment was for Cearia to witness how Anjali the Warden would calm the young ones, she needed to rein it in. A calm mind will afford the hunter sharp wits and senses. She needed to be ready to act at a moments notice if her wife commands it - even if Cearia felt obsolete.

She nodded her understanding to remain here.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali hadn't expected that Cearia would have any issue with staying behind with Vitti and Iss-Ka for now; but she nevertheless waited for her wife's nod, before proceeding forward. Young Rancors were always a handful, and when untamed and terrified, it could be dangerous; but it didn't scare the Beast Warden. She had improved over the years, for her training had begun many years ago. Yet there were reasons she had ensured that the other two Beast Wardens would join them later on, because more were needed to herd the two new additions back to the settlement.

Taking a deep breath and feeling vivid life surround her as she anchored herself into the earth and the wildlife, she took slow but confident steps towards the Rancors. She knew they had seen them already, but advancing by herself would make her less threatening. They might think she was food of course, but that was part of the risks.

They didn't move for the longest time, letting her approach, which she saw as a good sign.

Suddenly one of them, a male, lunged forward. Anjali rolled to the ground to escape his sweeping motion. Even young, they were already several meters tall and their claws were deadly to many including humans. She jumped back to her feet and faced the male again. It puzzled him that she didn't run away. He planted his claws on each side of her, as she rooted herself, searching for his gaze. While it was a threatening approach, it would also assert her as a dominant one, which she would be to him as he went through taming.

He approached his massive head and sniffed her, snapping his jaws at her. His breath was among the worst she had been exposed to, and it also made it clear he hadn't eaten properly in several days, confirming her assessment of the violent orphaning.

From the edges of her perceptions she felt his sibling move past them. She couldn't turn her gaze away from the male; but she had to do something,

"Vitti! Elat!"

Her command had the adult Rancor step forward and go to the approaching stomping orphan.

Iss-Ka was nervous and paced back and forth as she observed her mistress deal with the male, her attention also drifting at times to the huntress. It was rare to see the Voritor concerned as such; but the beast hated feeling cornered and helpless, which was how the situation was for her.

[Cearia Tserta]

The chance to watch Anjali bring the rancors under her control was an honor for Cearia. She watched her mate approach them with a confident gait, her stance unwavering and without fear that at a moment's notice Anjali could be ripped in two by its talons or razor sharp teeth. The curious gazes from the two young ones towards Anjali reflected the will she commanded and afforded her time to assess the rancors.

She unconsciously reached for Iss-Ka, both of them heavily invested in Anjali's safety and both useless right now to help. They could only bear witness to her mastery and hoped that nothing untoward would happen until the other wardens arrived.

Then it happened, causing Cearia to audibly gasp in fright when one of the rancors stepped forward to attack. She breathed a sigh of relief while her heart thundered loudly within her ears once she saw Anjali roll to safety. But it wasn't over yet. Anjali stared the rancor down, unflinching, despite being so close that one snap of its jaw would mean her demise. Yet he stood there, curious still - eyes canvasing over the tiny woman that exuded an indomitable will. Cearia was in awe and felt the lingering doubts that had manifested earlier take claim of her mind, questioning her worth as the Clan Mother's mate.

Anjali had explained why she chose Cearia, even loved her and wanted no other. Hell ... the hunter had yet to return Anjali's love. Yes, there was deep affection but their feelings weren't evenly matched yet. What she did know is that her abilities as a hunter caused notice, made her desirable as a member of the Undead Fires - as a provider and potential mate. Cearia knew her worth as much as Anjali did but as she watched the magnificence of a warden's power - was that really enough?

"You are enough, Cearia."

Anjali's words echoed in memory, but Cearia's self-loathing could no longer accept that so easily. The Clan Mother deserved an equal. Cearia was not an equal ...

Her thoughts ceased as the other rancor sprung into a full run towards them. She was quite proud she didn't scream her mate's name as it would only distract the Clan Mother. Eyes wide, she gripped Iss-Ka's spine for dear life as she frantically thought of something she could do to protect them. In an instant, Anjali shouted her commands and Vitti strode forward to aid her mistress. At least warden and rancor could contain the scared young ones, giving the other wardens time to catch up - or so the hunter hoped.

Her chest heaved quickly with trepidation and uncertainty, hating being useless. She spared a glance at Iss-Ka and felt for the voritor who was a mess of nerves, slithering close to the grass and rapidly darting her tongue out and hissing with frustration.

She took a knee so their eyes could meet. "I know how you feel. I do. But we have to trust Anjali."

It was the first time she spoke her wife's name without title since returning to her with news. "She and Vitti will prevail until the other wardens arrive."

She gently rubbed a hand along Iss-Ka's jaw, a show of trust towards the voritor since a bite from the mighty lizard was deadly due to poison, and looked back in time to see Vitti meet the volatile rancor head on ...

[Anjali Raskor]

Vitti stomped calmly but surely in front of the younger female. The shorter Rancor stopped and glared at her, sniffing her adamantly, trying to make sense of that other female that reminded her of her mother, even though their skin was of a different shade of brown.

Anjali's rancor parried a swat from the younger one and then gripped her firmly, even as the orphan female roared in anguish. Vitti forced her to the ground albeit in an almost gentle manner, as if they would both sit. The younger one was still rebellious and fearful; but Vitti held tight, roaring back and then lowering her screams a bit, to the point it was almost soothing.

Anjali was still in a face down with the male youth, who was dividing his attention between his sister and Vitti, and the Beast Warden. Anjali took the opportunity to scrutinize him more, and she knew that both he and the other one would need to be fed.

In a distance, she could feel Iss-Ka's nervousness, as well as her wife's; but thankfully Cearia was able to calm the Voritor down, which helped Anjali focus better on trying to calm the young male, who roared at her again and tried to grab her, forcing her to draw from her extra strength and leaped away from him.

"They need food," she called out to her wife, while avoiding the beast chasing her around.

"You and Iss-Ka, go," she commanded, for food would help calm them down, and distract them, especially when the other Beast Wardens would arrive.

She suddenly realized that both young rancors were coming after her, she managed to avoid the male one who had decided she was entertaining and might work better as a snack than anything else. But his sister clawed at her, and the Night Sister groaned in pain as her skin got cut open along her arm, probably hard enough to tear not only through muscle but to damage bone.

It only rooted her deeper into the power the gods had bestowed upon her. Screaming, she turned on her heels and lashed out through the Force at the female, asserting mental dominance over her. In the meantime, Vitti fetched the male one to prevent him from hurting the Clan Mother.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia immediately sprung into action on the command of her wife, her Clan Mother, no longer useless. The seasoned hunter would not fail Anjail.

"Iss-Ka! Quickly find a scent!" The voritor's senses would find a trail far quicker than Cearia under these circumstances. She hadn't sufficiently recovered but Iss-Ka's stamina had barely been touched during the journey here.

As she looked for signs of a found source, she mused on a concern of how far they would need to travel for it. The young rancors had caused quite the ruckus around here and may have scared off game. That would mean running. Again. Which was now. Iss-Ka had picked up a scent and looked to Cearia, making sure she was coming. The hunter would just have to persevere and use what strength returned to see this through.

She didn't spare Anjali a glance and darted off with the lizard. Cearia had to trust in her wife's strength to keep the rancors contained with Vitti.

Where were the wardens?! she thought viciously. They were taking too long but idle thoughts weren't productive.

Moments mattered in finding or losing prey, or Anjali and Vitti could suffered a life threatening injury because she dallied. Not even the roars made her flinch. No what ifs entered her mind. All that mattered was bringing back food to sate the rancors.

The swishing voritor tail was Cearia's guide. Iss-Ka had considerable distance on the hunter, but she was used to following her tracks in a hurry. As she felt her legs begin to gently throb in reminder as to her earlier exertion, she barreled through a thickened area of bushes, berries smearing along her sleeves on impact. She wiped some that smashed against her cheek and continued the chase.

She wasn't sure how far they had traveled until there was another roar that had considerable power behind it. The male rancor she surmised, but it echoed further. They had to be over a kilometer away. Prey needed to be found soon.

The area they entered smelled of overripe berries, thanks to the stains on her clothing, and the fragrant scent of wildflowers. She felt hopeful that Iss-Ka had found bolma since they enjoyed grazing on them. The large dropping they passed certainly indicated that it was that beast they were tracking.

"Iss-Ka ... slow ..." Yes they were in a hurry, but Cearia didn't want to cause the bolma to run off.

She looked closely around the area, seeing that it wasn't terribly disturbed. There were signs of vegetation cracked and trampled on, but there was only one set of tracks that were definitely bolma - indentations with three deeper moon shaped nail marks.

Iss-Ka looked irritated at Cearia but she steadied a hand. "We can't let it run off. It's probably alone and scared of the rancors."

She hissed in understanding, but her feet were constantly padding the ground, wanting to move.

"I know, but this is the only way to help Anjali. Trust me." Cearia freed her bow and pulled three arrows from her quiver, holding them tightly in a fist, finally moving forward with the voritor.

They covered several meters in silence, keeping low and straining senses. Iss-Ka perked up first, smelling the bolma properly and was ready to run off and pounce.

"No. Stay." Cearia commanded as she stalked forward. The ferns were the perfect cover as voritor and hunter saw the stray bolma trotting along the clearing in a circle. It clicked loudly, shaking its head with frustration at being lost. Cearia knelt under cover, spearing the arrows into the ground next to her.

Cearia pulled another arrow free and readied it, lined up the shot and as she exhaled, let it loose.

Her arrow hit true, puncturing the side of its neck. It cackled in pain as Cearia immediately lined up another shot and opened fired. That arrow pierced under its neck as it thrashed and started to run off. Another arrow was notched and released and her aim was true. The last arrow perforated between its row of eyes, sending the bolma slamming forward and sliding still - dead.

"Hurry!" Her legs protested but Cearia forced herself to her feet. She was already shucking off her long hunting coat as they approached the kill. She tucked the jacket around the bolma's stubby front legs and knotted it. A few sharp tugs tested its strength and Cearia was satisfied.

"Iss-Ka, come here." She knelt down to explain. "I need your strength to pull this back to her. Can you do this?"

The voritor circled around the hunter and shimmed her head between the tied up legs. Though Iss-Ka was not full grown, she was still larger than the bolma that she was harnessed to. She heaved with all her might and began to drag the kill forward. Sharp talons dug into the ground so hard that it left gashes in Iss-Ka's wake, but it worked. Cearia's jacket gave her the leverage that was needed to move and gain speed.

Another roar resounded through the area and Cearia urged the lizard to move faster. "We need to hurry!"

Iss-Ka being weighted down by the bolma, Cearia was able to keep pace despite each boot fall sending a thunderous reminder that her muscles wanted to give out. She couldn't fail Anjali. They were so close ...

Fighting through unrelenting pain once more, Iss-Ka and Cearia returned victorious and they hoped it was in time.

"Anjali!" Her shout was a primal response at seeing her mate injured, the image finally peeling away the formalities that Cearia addressed her wife since returning. Anjali's arm was soaked with blood from a nasty gash and it was difficult to ascertain if there were other injuries that the mess was covering up.

"Iss-Ka! Go! Hurry!" she barked in desperation and watched the voritor start slithering forward, heaving the bolma with a sharp hiss.

[Anjali Raskor]

Where young Rancors found in the immediate aftermath of the Cataclysm tended to be on the scrawny side, the two Anjali was now facing were a far cry. While they were starving, they hadn't been deprived from nourishment their whole early days. They were fiercer and the Clan Mother hoped that the other Beast Wardens would arrive soon.

Vitti was able to mostly restrain and quiet the female one, who seemed to take upon the older Rancor as a higher figure who might help.

The male, on the other hand, was still trying the bleeding witch, and the scent of fresh blood seemed to send him into a violent spiral.

As much as Anjali knew she'd need medical attention to her wounded arm soon, she had no rest to do it until the two rancors were restrained well enough for her to spare attention elsewhere.

The male tried to jab at her again; but the Beast Warden roared at him, digging deep into the darker confines of her psyche to press on in his animal mind. She would not be bested. He would submit to her.

It wasn't her first way to approach taming creatures; but when needed, she had no qualms using all strength to ensure they would be brought into the fold as submissive beasts who would be trained for the Clan's greater good.

She felt the wild but scattered resistance of the male rancor, which stirred a reaction from his sibling who felt his pain and anger through bodily reactions, as he stopped on his tracks, whimpering and groaning.

At that moment, the female glared at Anjali but Vitti actually whacked her to prevent her from attacking the witch.

On cue, Anjali felt Cearia and Iss-Ka coming back from behind where she stood, grateful for her extensive senses to alert her of such needed returns.

"Iss-Ka, come to me," she commanded.

The Voritor who was dragging the dead bolma hissed as she came forward.

And then her name echoing throughout the land struck Anjali, for she hadn't heard her mate address her as such since returning.

At that moment, the male sniffed the meat and trampled over the ground, almost tossing Anjali against a nearby trunk the process.

Feeling the unleashed power as well as her wound drain her, the Clan Mother nevertheless stood her ground and rushed to her Voritor to make sure that she wouldn't be part of the meal.

In the distance, stomping indicated that the other Beast Wardens were coming closer.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia tensed as Anajli swayed and almost fell in the wake of the rancor. Her Clan Mother, her mate, stood defiant as if her feet were strong roots embedded deep into the ground. It was yet another humbling sight to bear witness that stirred both pride and unworthiness inside her fast beating heart. It thudded so loudly against her chest from the exertion, the pain, and the sight of Anjali injured that it could crack Cearia's ribs with the intensity.

Iss-Ka had already launched herself forward as best she could with the weight of the bolma dragging her down before the rancor youth stormed forward towards the fresh food its body craved. Anjali had started to sprint to Iss-Ka, hoping to intercept the voritor before the rancor had a chance to use her pet as an appetizer. Cearia quickly eyed Vitti and noted that the rancor sister was appeased. She could focus on the immediate threat.

She drowned her worries of insecurities, Anjali's injury, Iss-Ka hissing in effort, into a place of non-existence that she used when hunting. Thoughts betrayed focus. Focus brought clarity. Clarity opened her eyes to sights and sounds that would normally be missed, or let her anticipate opponents strikes to defend herself, seek weaknesses to exploit for an attack. She survived many battles with her sisters and hunted prey because of these deeply embedded skills that were touched by a power she thought had forsaken her. Not every aspect of the Force was so easily observable. Some times it was woven into the very fiber of one's being - a power given solid form as flesh and blood.

Quickly bow was in hand again, notching a broadhead that was in the process of being pulled back. Tension left her body, feeling her boots sag deeper against the ground.

Focus brings clarity.

"ISS-KA!" Her words cut through the rancor's hungry roar and the quaking stomps of the other wardens coming with their mounts to aid. "TURN TO ME!"

The voritor shifted with confusion but trusted the hunter, changing direction in mid gait. She bent her legs and used the momentum to turn as fast as she could to Cearia. The voritor's tail swished with trepidation at an arrow being pointed towards her out of instinct, but Iss-Ka had faith in the hunter because Anjali had faith in Cearia.

Cearia waited until her mark was clear, one of the clothing knots. It was between Iss-Ka's neck and the bolma's leg. She had one shot to remove the voritor's burden and released the arrow.

The wide bladed point ripped into the fabric and tore it in half, penetrating the bolma and freeing Iss-Ka without injury. The carcass toppled off of the voritor's back for the awaiting rancor and Cearia waved frantically to both her and Anjali to disperse. "Go! Quickly!"

[Anjali Raskor]

The Cataclysm had forced them all to push forward to improve on any training they had received prior to the catastrophe. Anjali had done exactly that as she sometimes overextended herself for the well-being of the Clan, pushing hard as all the members had been doing. They were not only survivors, they were doing well, growing stronger as days went by.

The two young Rancors were proof that the wild life was returning to a healthier and more vigorous state. It made the Beast Warden's task difficult, especially with her injury, but she knew what she had to do.

As she attempted to ensure Iss-Ka wouldn't get hurt in the process of bringing the food, she felt a shift in the atmosphere, a ripple she recognized as her mate. Although her beloved wasn't gifted as she was in supernatural gifts, she always sensed her as a beacon of life and skills regardless, among the intricate web that kept Dathomir alive. Even in the darkness and harshness, the fire still burned, pressing forward to ignite souls.

The Voritor snapped her head towards Cearia ready to shoot, and Anjali felt the potent hatred from the creature at the sight of being in range of a deadly bow. Yet the nearness of both women made her obey the command. She had learned to abide not only by her mistress but also by the huntress, trusting them as they trusted her.

Whe she was free within moments, Iss-Ka ran away, leaving the dead bolma to be devoured by the male rancor.

Anjali turned on her heels and got out of his way; but upon hearing stomping coming closer indicating the two other beast wardens riding upon a single Rancor, the young female broke free from Vitti and rushed away, sniffing the air. Her sibling was still busy devouring the lat bits of bolma.

"Iss-Ka! Follow her trail!"

The Voritor gave what appeared a puzzled and disapproving look; but the large reptile scampered off upon the Clan Mother's command.

"Vitti!"

The Rancor groaned but rushed to her rider who beckoned her to pick her up. Even with her painful and bloody arm, she managed to retain a hard grip on the harness.

The other Beast Wardens appeared at that moment.

"Coax this one! He's the worst of the two. Wait for us here!"

She looked at Cearia and approached at once.

"I'll need you to help me restrain her."

Vitti fetched the hunter up and placed her roughly behind her rider, although it was a precarious matter.

Anjali had to trust her mate and her skills, for she urged her rancor to follow the younger one as quick as possible, albeit without destroying everything in the way.

Cearia had found two wandering young rancors; and the Beast Warden would ensure that both of them were taken by the Undead Fires.

[Cearia Tserta]

Relief washed over Cearia seeing Iss-Ka slither off unharmed with a sharp exhalation of breath. Anjali was too, but Cearia was visibly concerned that the wound her mate suffered may have widened with effort. To her dismay, she saw a pool of blood pulsate through soiled clothing and the wound needed to be dressed once the rancors were secured. She kept a tight grip on her bow in case it were needed and began to slowly make her way towards her mate, maintaining a wide berth for the rancor siblings. Cearia made no sound, as if boots walked on clouds. Not that her presence would be noticed over the sounds of a salivating rancor chomping its offered meal to shreds. Blood splattered along the ground as the brother rancor ate desperately, not wanting to down its meal in one massive gulp.

She growled as the sister rancor stormed off, Vitti unable to coax the young one to sit still. Cearia had to wonder if the smell of fresh kill drove her hungry and she stormed off to find something to eat. At least she, Anjali, and Iss-Ka were not considered food.

Anajli shouted orders to Iss-Ka and Vitti, the familiars quick to act on their mistress' behalf, though not without a reluctant look from the voritor who wasn't thrilled to be chasing after rancors again. The gods at least brought them aid with the two beast wardens that finally came. Any words that Cearia wanted to say to her mate were left silent. Anjali was their leader and Cearia knew her place. It was moving to see how quickly Anjali acted as much as it was easy to follow orders. The gravity of the situation demanded quick thought and action. This is where Cearia could just be a clan member and have everything make sense to her - she was the hunter of the Undead Fires and would carry out the will of her Clan Mother. Still part of her ached to be worthy of the woman that sat atop Vitti as if the gash along her arm was a minor cut from a knife that got too close to flesh when chopping an evening meal.

Cearia kept her concerns veiled over a mask of readiness as Vitti stomped to her location and looked up at the Clan Mother. She gave Anjali a quick nod of understanding and pulled in a tight breath when Vitti's massive hand came down to scoop her up. Quickly her bow hand shot up to protect the weapon and felt her heart catch in her throat when boots left the ground. She immediately decided that being rancor handled was not pleasant. Vitti's bad breath enveloped her body that she was sure her clothing couldn't be washed free of the odor and the rancor was all but crushing her body, her grip tight to make sure that the hunter did not fall.

Vitti unceremoniously released her just behind Anjali with no easy way to secure herself. Boots slipped against her thick hide and Cearia felt what little grip she managed to have on the harness loosen. Her teeth gnashed together as she thought on how to save herself a painful descent as Vitti was already on the move. The hunter was allowed no reprieve but Cearia wouldn't complain.

She thrust her boot against one of Vitti's spiky shoulder outcroppings, the other planted high as if she had been in mid-climb and not mid-fall. Cearia tucked her head through bow and string and with both hands free, pulled on the harness straps. Her muscles burned with protest and she had so little in reserve since the first move of her legs taking her home. What drove Cearia to persevere was knowing that she was needed ... and Anjali was in no shape to help her in this position. Her wounded arm was closet but more importantly, Anjali needed to focus on commanding Vitti and Iss-Ka and sensing for the sister rancor.

A small cry of determination burst from deep inside her as she hoisted herself to safety. Hard, sharp pants of exertion came quickly from the hunter as legs and arms secured themselves against Anjali. For one moment, Cearia allowed her head to fall forward and press into the material of Anjali's clothing before squeezing her. It was a selfish moment that was needed to ground herself in the fact that even injured, Anjali was here.

And then in the next breath she loosened her hold and brought her attention to the gash on her leader's arm. It was deep and messy with fresh blood and dirt. It was difficult to tell where clothing and the meat inside Anjali's arm began and ended.

Cearia's scowl was deep with concern. "You're going to need stitches. Maybe worse."

She had seen these wounds before and they either healed or the limb was cut off to avoid sickness from spreading. Cearia would use this time for Anjali's advantage to keep her on the right side of healing. She always had dressings and healing poultice with her during hunts. Accidents could happen and as good as she was, animals were unpredictable. All it took was one wound, no matter how minor, to turn ill and consume a witch's insides and cause fever, even death.

She grabbed the water flagon off Anjali's belt that she had not drunk and grabbed the Clan Mother's arm, ignored any protests, and dumped water over the wound. Her nose curled as brown and red swirled together before spilling over onto their lower clothing, pelting their boots and Vitti's skin like rain. She wished they had more water, but it would have to do. She unrolled one of the bandages and Cearia used it to pat the wound dry as best as she could. It was not an easy task as they swayed atop the beast, but Cearia had a steady hand. Then she took a handful of the poultice that was made from healing plant oils and powders. It would sting, but it would provide a protective barrier. She did not like how deep the moist paste went into Anjali's arm, nor how the pressure dressing she was placing did too.

Quickly she wrapped the arm, focusing on helping and not the trepidation that seized at her chest when she heard the sister rancor roar and what sounded like a loud chirping noise that was probably Iss-Ka. She just prayed to the gods that she could really help Anjali restrain the stampeding rancor as Vitti quickened her pace ...

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali trusted the other Beast Wardens to wrangle the male rancor. Not only did she have no other alternatives; but she had chosen them two to come help. She had seen them work, collaborating with them about some of the creatures the reformed Clan had found over the past months. She knew their worth and could rely on them in such a situation, especially as emergency hit when the female sibling stormed off, requiring a chase.

The Clan Mother was grateful for her mate's skills, despite her exhaustion, for she felt her adjust her position and didn't fall off Vitti.

Fragments of previous events passed before her mind's eyes; but her own tiredness was threatening to take over. She was aware that her wound was likely worse than she wanted to admit; but she would also not fail her people. She had delegated as much as possible; but the Clan Mother wasn't one to admit defeat. Strength would prevail and new Rancors would be brought to the Undead Fires, giving new mounts and beasts to be tamed by their few but talented Beast Wardens.

In the confines of her tired brain, she felt pride and love for her wife, for the huntress went above and beyond like any true member of the clan, pushing herself beyond limits when fate required it. She wasn't in a position to be distracted by such considerations; but the feeling was present deep in her.

The brief moment Cearia squeezed her after securing her position added to her sharpening concentration as she secured her senses upon Iss-Ka ahead of them. She could have simply tracked her target, but her bond to the Voritor required less energy to follow her instead.

She directed Vitti to follow the trail of the young rancor. Her mount obeyed without trouble. The Clan Mother almost felt shame emanating from the large creature; as if she felt responsible for letting the younger one escape. Anjali didn't have the reserves of energy to soothe her beast at length.

"Hold my waist," she asked her wife.

She then briefly freeed her good hand and patted Vitti's thick hide.

"Najah rhoa. Najah rhoa," she whispered with conviction, the encouragement she had always given Vitti when she did well.

She grabbed at the harness at once again, so she could let Cearia inspect her arm.

The dire observation that came didn't surprise her sadly.

"I know," she replied dryly.

The brief but blatant concern that she might lose her arm, for she understood the implication, magnified her focus.

She didn't flinch while her wife cleaned up her wound. It hurt; but it helped her concentrate as much as she knew it to be needed in hope her arm would heal properly. Regardless of what would happen, Anjali knew she wouldn't have done things differently. If she had gone the easy way, she would have been dead long ago, and this was an unacceptable concept.

She picked on Iss-Ka slowing down, and she pressed her heel into the side of her Rancor, which made her press forward with haste. They soon came to a halt where Iss-Ka was. In the distance, Anjali saw the young Rancor whining and roaring in pain. She had managed to hurt herself somehow and one of her back legs was stuck in mud and thorny thick vines.

"Graddakh," she cursed as she realized they would have to both restrain and free this wild youth.

She directed Vitti to bring them closer. The trapped beast saw them, but whined to them in a plaintive way. Anjali saw that as a good sign.

"Vitti, kneel," she instructed her Rancor.

The beast did as told. The Clan Mother let her wife climb down first, and then mustered enough srength to leap to the ground, so she wouldn't have to use her arm. She caught her breath for a moment, her exhaustion threatening to return full blow, but Anjali refused to be brought down.

She looked at Cearia and offered a faint but earnest smile.

"Thank you for the bandaging."

She then gestured towards one large bag on Vitti's side.

"We need the thick leather restrains down so we can rope her up before we free her."

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia left the words 'I know' hang in the air between them. There was nothing else to say about Anjali's arm, until there was, and that would be after the healer at the settlement took a proper look at the wound. Unused bandages were tucked back into her pouch as she flicked the remnants of paste off her blood coated hand. She kept a firm hold on Anjali's waist as Vitti's controlled stride would bring them closer to their runaway rancor. Cearia was surprised that their hunt ended with the sister injured and imprisoned by fledgling foliage that was returning to the lands.

Her lower lip protruded upwards, causing her chin to tense with concern when the rancor wailed. That was a sound any hunter recognized as an animal's pain - a terribly mournful one as if it were close to the edge of giving up and accepting death. Cearia was well aware that the clan needed this rancor, but if its wounds were too severe, they may have to give it a merciful death. They wouldn't know until they got closer.

She spared a glance at her wife, sitting stoic and proud as Vitti began to kneel. Cearia could begin to see it. The weariness that the hunter was all too familiar with since returning to Anjali. It just began to tug at the corners of the Clan Mother's eyes. Anjali had pushed herself so hard and come so far with the abilities she possessed that she just started to feel weariness and pain etching subtle lines of proof.

As Cearia hopped down to the ground, she landed on all fours in a hard thud, hoping that her anxiety and jealousy where stomped down too. Anjali joined her and Cearia fought the urge to reach out to steady her when she noticed a slight stumble forward and heard a heavy breath. This was not Cearia bent over with exhaustion as a mere hunter. This was just her Clan Mother allowing a moments pause to collect her strength. Anjali would not fall to the ground like Cearia had.

Her eyes narrowed at Anjali's words and gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement. She was afraid to say more in fear that her voice was fail her. Anjali's guidance focused Cearia as the hunter approached Vitti. She loosened the rope and pulled the flap up and over the bag, tucking it against the rancor. She offered the beast a gentle pat but said nothing, knowing that it was not her place. Cearia was no warden with soothing words that could melt animals to their will, but she did know a gentle hand could go a long way for comfort.

"The yongon may be hurt bad."

She grunted against the strain of a warring body that didn't want to move. Still she pulled the restraints from the bag and her mind lost focus of the present for a brief moment. When the two of them returned home and Anjali's arm was given judgement, they needed to sleep until their bodies woke up with agreement to move again.

"Hurt bad like you. Or worse."

She bent her knees and hefted the thick leather straps over her shoulder. Her neck flexed under the strain of standing upright before marching over to Anjali as the rest of the restraints dragged behind her. She could not hide her exhaustion as well as her mate could. Her movements weren't as fluid as they had been when she freed Iss-Ka from the bolma. She pondered if a gentle breeze would make her topple over. Yet, she stood before Anjali with grave green eyes.

"If worse ..." she let the implication hang in the air. They may have to put the rancor down depending on her injuries. "But hopefully not, Clan Mother."

She waited dutifully for Anjali's orders, ready to be her instrument to do what her arms could not.

[Anjali Raskor]

As much as Anjali refused to let her now bandaged wound or her exhaustion prevent her from doing what must be done, she didn't try to mask her tiredness, comfortable enough around her wife to display it. She needed any ounce of energy she had left to wrangle that injured rancor; and putting on a good face would just be a waste. Her actions and their results mattered more than how she presented herself in such a situation.

She was grateful when Cearia helped unload all the heavy leather bounds that would help restrain the rancor, should she be in a good enough shape to be brought back to the settlement.

"She might," she replied to her wife's astute observation as a hunter.

"Iss-Ka," she called, before clicking her tongue and nodding towards her mate.

On cue, the growing Voritor went and opened her jaws to carefully be given some of the leather restrains so Cearia wouldn't have to carry all the weight. The Clan Mother would have normally helped but she had to keep her energy to make the pained rancor cooperate.

She wasn't happy with her wife using her title again; and would likely address that at a later time in private; but she had other things on her mind now.

They moved forward to where the young female was trapped. She groaned and whimpered as they approached, although she looked right away at Vitti, her body language almost sheepish. Anjali gestured to her mount, and the older rancor came close to the youth, trying to soothe her.

In the meantime, the Beast Warden managed to come closer to where the rancor's leg had got trapped. Pulling vines away, she had to retrieve her knife and cut through some of them as best as she could, eventually asking Cearia to let go of the restrains for now and help her with the task. Iss-Ka kept watch close by, but didn't come further for the time being.

As both women freed the rancor, it was visible that the leg was cut in, but the wound wasn't as bad as the Clan Mother.

"She'll limp for a while, but she'll heal," she observed.

Anjali knew that the injury might be enough to make her behave but she would take no risk for the time being. Vitti would have to help the young one head back to camp; but Anjali was still going to restrain her, arms behind her back to minimize risks of outburst or wounding the Night Sisters.

Vitti was still helping keep the beast in check, and the Clan Mother instructed her wife how to help her bind the Rancor's arms, while she once again rooted herself into the vibrant fabric of nature and pressed her mind into the rancor's psyche, imposing her will for stillness.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia's attention went to Iss-Ka and smiled appreciatively. Without hesitation, she slid one of the straps off her shoulder and with a grimace, offered it to the voritor. She hoped that her shaking arms went unnoticed, camouflaged by thick armor and tired eyes. Anjali felt comfortable around her wife, but Cearia didn't want to show weakness before her. Not all of her jealousy and anxiety had been stomped out as she had hoped.

With admiration, she remained silent as Anjali assessed the young rancor. Cearia recognized the same sound it made as before, but it softened, more so when she looked to Vitti. She grew submissive towards the other rancor, head bowed with nostrils flaring widely in pain. It was curious to the hunter, wondering if she felt shame for running off against Vitti's direction and ended up getting hurt with the poor decision - just like a whimpering child looking to its parent for help after disobeying them.

When Anjali called for assistance, Cearia and Iss-Ka dragged the straps just in reach before dropping them to the ground behind the beast. Iss-Ka snapped her jaw several times to loosen it after pulling so much weight. Cearia rolled her shoulders and neck, hearing pops of tension released despite the brutal, burning, protests of muscles that wanted to cease moving.

She remembered her silent promise when woken by Iss-Ka.

I will not fall twice in one day.

Kneeling beside Anjali, Cearia pulled out one of her knives that was roughly five inches long with a handle the same size. It was a drop point blade that was well cared for, sharpened if needed with her other knives prior to leaving on a hunt. It cut through the vines with one stroke of her wrist.

She nodded at Anjali's observation and gently rubbed around the area of the wounds, feeling the rancor shift toes to make sure that her foot still moved.

"Gods were kind to this one, Clan Mother. I'm glad she can come home with us," she said before sitting on the back of her legs to rummage through her supplies. She murmured a small thanks to the gods at having some poultice left over, though it was considerably sparse after using the majority of it on Anjali's wound.

Cearia looked to the rancor's gravest injury - which was barely a flesh wound compared to what her mate suffered - scooped up what was left of the medicinal paste from her pouch and forced her aching body to partially climb up the rancor's leg. It was a daring move because one wrong shift of the massive leg and Cearia could be vaulted meters into the air and away to suffer who knows how many broken bones on return impact, but she trusted Vitti and Anjali to keep the rancor contained.

"Please remain docile," she said to the rancor as her hand began to spread the thick green paste along the wound. She wasn't even sure if the beast understood her but a calm voice, like her earlier touch, might help. "This is going to help but sting."

She thinned it out as much as possible to have all injured skin be soothed by its touch after the initial prickling of the medicine died down. Once that was done, she placed her hands against the rancor and slowly pushed her way down until her feet were back on land. She took a moment to collect her breath as Anjali explained how the straps worked. Cearia surmised it was no different than restraining a person, except this was a massively scared rancor that was in immense pain, creating a challenge for the hunter.

With a nod, Cearia got to work as there was no time to realize how dangerous this was for one such as she. She was not a Beast Warden, had no Force ability, and this was her first time handling a rancor. She took the first strap and weaved it around the rancor's wrist with Iss-Ka close by, ready to pounce on its enormous hand in case claws lashed out towards the hunter. Even still, Cearia knew there was little chance in evading the deadly talons in such close proximity. Her motions were exaggerated due to the size of the leather straps and exhaustion. Her breaths were becoming short, a protest of a body wanting more air. Instead she persevered with a grunt as she pulled the end of the strap through the large knot, tugging it with less strength than she hoped.

"Iss-Ka. Pull with me," she said, holding onto the short end. The voritor dutifully came forward, tongue flicking with concern at being this close before her jaw clamped onto the long end, knowing that helping Cearia was imperative.

She nodded and tightened her grip. "On my command."

Her tail swished, ready.

"Pull!"

In unison, the pair tugged hard. Cearia cried out from the effort and the bite of leather digging into her gloved hands. The knot that woven in and around itself was secured.

Cearia stumbled back and wiped her brow before perspiration had a chance to roll into her eyes to sting.

"Come on."

She waved Iss-Ka to follow her with hard fought breaths and secured the second wrist but at a much slower pace. She was working as fast as she was able, knowing that Vitti and Anjali could only keep the rancor quieted for so long. Cearia grunted with every motion with arms that felt as heavy as the leather straps she was lifting. Iss-Ka watched over her like before until she was called to pull and tighten the knot.

On the last tug, Cearia lost her grip and staggered backwards and was certainly going to fall, but Iss-Ka darted to rescue her from embarrassment, tucking her head under an arm for support.

Despite the heat that flushed Cearia's face from physical labor, completely self-conscious of her weakness, she forced wobbly legs to straighten. She gently pat Iss-Ka's shoulder and briefly sought out the voritor's eyes to thank her with grateful look.

"We're ready, Clan Mother." Her voice was strong, her body weak, but Cearia crouched to retrieve the straps.

She was Anjali's arms and hands and she must not fall.

[Anjali Raskor]

Before the cataclysm, Anjali would have likely felt bad about not being able to contribute to carrying the restraints; but at this point in her life and all she had survived, she knew that dividing tasks so she could focus on what only her could do right now, which was to assuage the young rancor's fear and pain, effectively taming the underlying frenzy that risked breaking through the surface at any point, was her priority.

She was surprised but grateful that the youth reacted to Vitti the way she did. It served her well though. There was still need of a having a solid grip over the trapped beast's wild mind, but if it was now attaching itself to Vitti, at least for the time being, it made things easier, especially as she knew that the tie that bound the four lives present was strong. On an animal level, the youth would eventually realize that Vitti was attached to Anjali, Iss-Ka, and Cearia by extension, which would make the dangerous task more manageable. It was a blessing from the gods given that most if not all of them were exhausted.

She dug deeper than ever that day when the youth was about to move and risk kicking if not killing Cearia, when the hunter tended to the wound. In an instant, Anjali drew from her fear for her wife's life, as well as her own stubbornness to prevail over the young beast. She pressed on harder into the rancor's brain, not giving her one inch of freedom at that moment. It wasn't her favored move, but at this point there were only so many options.

While it would only be later that Anjali fully processed the way Cearia exhibited once again her significant potential as a Beast Warden, she nevertheless caught glimpses of it, as she focused on the creature to ensure it would remain docile.

As the huntress and Iss-Ka worked together to restrain the beast, Anjali had to keep a tight grip, which every time she attempted to slightly diminish, proved it wasn't the time or place to do as such. After two attempts, Anjali didn't even let go. With exhaustion, lack of food, and wound, the youth would eventually be tired enough to behave better; but she still had more energy than the Clan Mother expected. As draining as it was to her, it was also a good sign that the rancor was a strong one, which would be good for the Clan.

"Well done," she replied, ignoring her title being used yet again. She had watched it and seen it was done appropriately, which didn't surprise her.

"Vitti, kneel," she commanded her rancor.

Her ride did as told, and Anjali had to use her gifts to get herself up. She already had asked enough of everyone else, and she wanted to still prove she could get things done herself. Even though her ego was mostly in check in critical situations, she still had her pride.

"Buckle the restraints into Vitti's harness," she explained to her wife, before waiting for the hunter to climb up behind her.

Once all was ready, she had Vitti stand up again, and she nudge the youth to follow them, hopefully it would go better now that she felt the younger beast's mind ebb and flow due to tiredness.

"Let's go back to the other Sisters," she said before directing Vitti into the correct direction, the youth and Iss-Ka following them.

[Cearia Tserta]

If Cearia could preen under her Clan Mother's praise, she would have if not for the necessity of returning to the other two wardens. Instead she waited dutifully with straps in hand. Anjali inspected the knots and said nothing to correct the hunter's work before calling Vitti over. Cearia watched her mate's rancor carefully make her way around the group and kneel as commanded. With masked relief, it was as simple as Anjali stated to secure the injured rancor - like buckling armor.

Vitti came as close as she could so her mistress and mate only had to exert minimal energy. As Anjali waited and watched Cearia begin to tether the young rancor, the hunter focused on the task at hand and hefted the strap to slip through the buckle, tugging it secure in the loop. She took a moments pause to place a hand against Vitti to fill a fiery chest with much needed air to continue the will of her leader. Her breaths came fast and desperate, eyes blinking through pain that Cearia couldn't abate. Accepting that she wouldn't find reprieve until she joined Anjali, she shuffled around Vitti to buckle the last strap into place.

She patted Vitti in thanks before looking at the sister rancor. Cearia felt relief that she was well enough to walk, humbled by Anjali's power once again to make the youth docile.

"Hopefully your journey's not too painful, yongon," she shared, giving the beast a brief lopsided smile as Anjali mounted Vitti.

The smile disappeared as she paced the climb up Vitti, making every hand and foot hold against her count for maximum distance and effort.

I will not fall twice in one day, she repeated again in silence to fuel her drive.

Her hand thrust over the side of Vitti's harness and fist the material, tugging herself up the rest of the way with clenched teeth. She crawled behind Anjali, not fighting the raspy gasps forced from her lungs that disturbed the long mane of her leader. An arm slipped around Anjali's waist as the the other reached out a hand to inspect the Clan Mother's dressing.

"It held well," she noted gruffly, letting a thumb caress the length of the covered wound. No blood had seeped through yet. The poultice was containing the damage and Cearia hoped it was a good sign.

[Anjali Raskor]

Her mate's exhaustion had been a constant throbbing in the web of her perceptions; but Anjali trusted that the huntress would prevail throughout the Rancor ordeal. The Undead Fires had risen from ashes because of every clan member's strength and stubbornness. Her wife lacked neither, even though the latter could sometimes, if not often, come out in unwarranted ways. But those would be addressed later, for the Clan Mother had more pressing matters to attend until the whole group returned to the enclave.

She was already commanding Vitti to rise by the time she felt Cearia's hand gently reach out for her bandaged arm. Her mate's words brought a faint smile to her lips.

"Glad you had healing supplies," she replied before nudging Vitti to advance a little faster, for them to reunite with the other Beast Wardens. As a hunter, it made sense for Cearia to always have something on her. While Anjali would have normally had such things with her, the finding of two young rancors who were proving devastating threats as well as potentials for the Clan had taken over in terms of preparation.

At all time, Anjali retained some influence upon the young female following close to Vitti, but it was less than the dominion she had had to exert when finding her trapped. The youth's fierceness had depleted thanks to exhaustion and the combined influence of both the Beast Warden and Vitti.

Iss-Ka had had enough of rancors for the day, and decided to walk at a short but safe distance of the small convoy. She was waiting for them, her tail swatting at a nearby tree, and hissing slowly, when they reached the other Beast Wardens. Anjali could tell the Voritor was tired too. She almost wanted to set Iss-Ka loose for the time being, but she knew the lizard well enough to know that she would stick around regardless. So, she simply clicked her tongue and made a couple of encouraging sounds, which pleased the Voritor.

The two other Sisters had wrangled the male youth and attached his restraints to the other tamed rancor's harness. Both women were already riding. The bowed their heads to the Clan Mother, awaiting her intructions.

"Well done, Sisters," Anjali said with a nod, before moving past them, leading the way behind the Voritor.

"Is the Rancor enclosure ready for them?"

Kadia responded right away.

"Yes, Clan Mother. Two of the brothers will be there to keep watch with Sister Aljia. I will leave my Rancor as well, since the male youth is familiar with her now."

Anjali was pleased.

"Vitti will stay behind. We'll see about unbuckling and unrestraining them tomorrow."

Aljia and Kadia grinned. While there was tiredness in their eyes, they had retained some more energy than both Anjali and Cearia, who had wrestled with the young rancors for much longer at this point.

The Clan Mother caught Kadia's look in the direction of her bandaged arm, but she was glad she said nothing about it. The less Anjali had to waste her energy on, the better, for she would not allow herself to appear weak before the Clan.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia's lips pressed tightly together when she nodded in agreement that they were fortunate there were healing supplies at the ready. She loosened her grip on the injured arm and brought the free hand down to join the one around Anjali's waist, knowing her mate needed to rest as much as possible until the healer could examine it. First they had to reunite with the rest of their sisters to make sure the male was under control and even after that, get these siblings secured in the enclosures.

It didn't take long for the two pairs of nightsisters to converge. Cearia remained silent as Aljia and Kadia informed their leader of the preparations back home for the rancors arrival. This is what caused their delay and the hunter had new appreciation for the wardens foresight. Cearia's frustration with their tardiness was created by irrational fear due to Anjali's injury. She already held deep respect for both wardens as they assisted in working with the reptilian fliers. Without their guidance, the three babies wouldn't be as robust and healthy, their leathery hides strong and bright with color and eager to spread their wings when ready. They were capable sisters and she was thankful for their aid in raising the fliers and wrangling these rancors.

With exhaustion so heavy, Cearia was glad she was able to lean against Anjali for support that looked natural. Of course the Clan Mother's mate would hold her just a little bit tighter after the ordeal that injured Anjali. It was unspoken understanding of Cearia's devotion that did not make their leader look weak, and it was the perfect subterfuge that kept the hunter sitting upright atop Vitti. After a few more moments of deliberation between the wardens, they commanded their mounts to return home. The siblings were quiet and docile, except for occasional whimpers from the sister. During the trip, Cearia often chanced a look towards her - eyes only offering meager encouragement compared to the three powerful presences that surrounded her that could touch the beast's mind with their magick.

She sagged further against Anjali, her body aching so profoundly that she felt she had been carved from stone, but she held onto her mate the entire march home through sheer stubbornness alone. Her spirit urged her to be more considerate of her worth. She had accomplished so much good for her people that would make the clan stronger. Yet her mind warred with her inadequacy, again. Anjali had suffered far worse than she and the Clan Mother sat atop Vitti as the conquering hero while her mate's eyes continued to drift closed in weakness...

... At some point Cearia had fallen asleep - her bone weary body unable to fight Vitti's soothing stride that rocked her like a babe. Cearia surmised that Anjali kept a tight grip on her with the good hand, or perhaps used her magicks, to keep the hunter from tumbling to her demise. Immediately her cheeks reddened when she recognized they were home and by the rancor enclosures. The nightbrothers already had the gates open in welcome for the new additions and many of their people had stopped to cheer the victorious wardens.

Cearia's postured stiffened and the grip around Anjali's waist loosened as troubling thoughts consumed her - How many of her people saw her asleep? How many had seen her weakness?

Her expression remained neutral despite how her heart burned with anger directed solely towards herself. To the people, Cearia looked striking with her war paint smudged from her efforts, accentuating her determined gaze that humbled anyone looking at her from the ground. The hunter had slipped on a mask to see her through this embarrassment until boots found ground after Anjali commanded Vitti to kneel.

Anjali wouldn't require assistance in dismounting as she needed to remain strong before the people. She had more reasons to mask her pain and exhaustion than Cearia, but she wouldn't sit idle despite her body's protest. Her muscles had been tempered by the quick rest but they were still sore as she stalked to one of her hunter's that she recognized in the crowd.

"Blessings upon you, Great Sister!" Cearia inwardly grimaced at the undeserving title and praise. "You and the wardens continue to bring hope back to the clan."

"Yes. The gods have blessed the wardens with great skill and power to bend the rancors to their will, Sister Grimha," she said, giving proper respect to the three responsible for this celebration. She lowered her voice with what was said next. "But I do need to know with haste where Sister Ashia is."

Grimha's eyes widened and searched Cearia's body for wounds.

"I'm fine," Cearia confirmed, her tone allowing no arguments.

Lies.

She stuffed down her insecurities because this was not the time for wallowing. "But we do need to be looked over by Sister Ashia once the rancors are secured."

Grimha's attention went to the two wardens that held no visible injuries like Cearia but when her eyes took in the noticeable dressing on the Clan Mother's arm, she understood the delicate nature of the Great Sister's request. "She's in the caverns. I'll go on ahead and make sure she prepares for your arrival."

Cearia clasped Grimha's shoulder in gratitude - even tired eyes managed to find a spark of appreciation. The two shared a nod before Grimha slipped from the hold and weaved through the small crowd with urgency. Cearia stepped back and returned her focus on Anjali, waiting for the proper moment to whisk the Clan Mother away to the caverns and be tended to ...

[Anjali Raskor]

While Anjali knew of her wife's exhaustion, as well as her own, she found new wells of strength to draw from thanks to her pride and her mate's embrace. Even if Cearia needed to hold her tight to keep going as well, the Clan Mother found new resilience for it, anchoring herself into the huntress's closeness. It was one of the many ways their relationship had been a source of inspiration in the past while.

The two other Beast Wardens gave little attention to Cearia, instead focusing on the young restrained rancors, as well as their leader's command. Yet Anjali knew that they had agreed with her about how her wife was a warden potential, even though Cearia would have none of it. Aljia, and especially Kadia, had been impressed by how the huntress had been taking care of the baby fliers, and for what they had witnessed, they confirmed what the Clan Mother and Iss-Ka had realized early on, that the blue one would bond to no one except Cearia. In due time, the huntress would have to face the reality of it; but Anjali hadn't brought it back up.

At some point on the way home, Anjali realized that her mate was falling asleep, which happened quite quickly. While tempted to use her wounded and bandaged arm, she decided against it. Instead she looped Vitti's harness she was holding around her good arm, and firmly held her wife's arm that was laced around her. Cearia wouldn't fall from her rancor on her watch.

The moment her wife woke up, Anjali felt her shame ripple through the Force. It was nauseating really, and she didn't understand how Cearia still allowed that to happen over and over again, and mostly for untrue reasons. She sighed, even though her expression remained impassible as they moved through the settlement. She knew her chiorikem had much to work through; and while she had realized it would be a continuous source of friction between them for times to come, she wouldn't forsake her. She loved her deeply, was proud of her, and would support her as well as she could, even when it meant butting heads with the huntress.

She soon let Cearia get to the ground, before dismounting Vitti, and helping the two other beast wardens, along with a handful of night brothers and sisters who had got it ready, move the four rancors, including the two restrained youth, into the rancor enclosure. She rejoiced at the positive reactions from clan members, about the new additions. The Undead Fires were growing stronger every day, and she was glad they had been able to coax these two wanderers. It was worth the efforts, exhaustion, and even her wound. Life on Dathomir wasn't kind; but she knew that any ordeal could only make her better and stronger.

It took a little bit for the four rancors to be all taken care of, and Anjali was finishing discussing logistics and how to take care of them, when she felt her wife approach.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia remained a safe distance from the wardens, not wishing to be burden by getting in the way, but had moved out of the crowd to observe the Clan Mother. Her wife would not budge from the enclosures until all four rancors were safe inside and secured and that was when she would approach. She listened to hushed whispers as the people took in the sight, some playfully conspiring on who the rancors would bond to, some just in awe of seeing the mighty beasts so close. One of the nightgirls had scooted down so another could climb her back, tucking legs securely against her sides. She hefted her up and with a mighty cheer that she could muster, raised her practice sword high as if she were riding a rancor herself. The girl that was holding her fiercely roared.

Even in exhaustion, Cearia recognized those voices, though one voice was missing - the rambunctious nightboy. Those were two of her three little terrors that were hell bent on playing with the hunter. The children hoped that like the other hunters, Cearia would play and teach them but she denied them with every attempt to surprise her with practiced ambush attacks, always walking away. Despite their disappointment, she did take notice of their developing skills and teamwork. The little terrors would grow up to be formidable hunters and warriors if afforded the proper guiding hand.

She was not yet ready for that responsibility. There were too many people that relied on Cearia for food and supplies, supplementing and maintaining the herds. She couldn't allow further distractions to complicate her duties as the one luxury that she agreed upon was equally taxing to her.

Cearia really believe her sabbatical prior to bonding with the Clan Mother had helped extinguish the flames of unworthiness within her. Today's trials clearly proved otherwise.

As the gates were locked with thick wooden bolts by the nightbrothers, the wardens continued to have a spirited conversation on the next steps in handling the rancors. Cearia hoped that the young sister's leg would heal quickly and that what little mending the hunter could perform would expedite that. Suspicious that Anjali would continue to push herself until every idea had been explored in training the young ones, Cearia began her approach.

Cearia sought Kadia's gaze and gave her an imploring look and subtle nod to interrupt. The warden finished her suggestion and put her full attention to the hunter, nodding in return. "Great Sister..."

It was all that was said despite the deserved compliment on the tip of her tongue. Anjali's look cautioned Kadia to say nothing more.

"I apologize for the interruption, Clan Mother." Cearia bowed her head before bringing it back up to regard Anjali, though her eyes didn't quite meet her wife's. "If it pleases you, I would like to tend to your arm."

[Anjali Raskor]

When Kadia turned her attention to Cearia, to acknowledge the huntress's presence, Anjali finally pried her focus from the Rancor situation, since it seemed that everything was taken care of for now. She wouldn't be needed until the next day on the matter, unless an emergency occurred. Frankly, the exhausted Clan Mother hoped not; but she knew better than take anything for granted.

Giving a nod to her fellow Beast Warden, she then stared at her wife. She found no issue with being addressed by her title in public, so that wasn't what troubled her. It was how she noticed her mate didn't really look her in the eyes, which puzzled her, and almost angered her. She remained only irritated due to how tired she was.

Yet she was grateful for Cearia's care and ensuring that she would receive proper attention to her wound, which was very much needed, especially if she hoped to truly heal.

"It pleases me, Huntress," she replied politely, keeping formalities as need be.

Her expression briefly softened, before she gestured for her mate to lead the way. She trusted Cearia to likely have already arranged to meet with one of the healers of the Clan.

[Cearia Tserta]

By the Clan Mother's command, she respectfully nodded and led the way. Iss-Ka, who had been absent, rejoined them once they were far enough away from the enclosures. The voritor had enough of the obnoxious beasts for many moons to come! She did not like being thought of as a snack or how severely wounded Anjali was from the rancor brother. They had been on many ventures together in taming and finding them, but this had been the absolute worst!

She gently headbutted the side of Anjali's leg before flaring her nostrils at the wound. Then Iss-Ka looked between the Clan Mother and Huntress, feeling the air thick with tension. Cearia was agonizing over everything, Anjali was frustrated and angry with her wife. The later surprised Iss-Ka but her mistress's body and mind was heavy with exhaustion and pain. It would be difficult for Anjali to maintain her composure and patience with her mate.

The voritor cackled and whacked Cearia behind the leg with her tail before joining her side, the hunter giving her a tired look mixed with confusion as she caught herself from stumbling too badly. Iss-Ka darted her tongue quickly up at her before scampering up ahead to scout the entrance to the caverns, leaving Cearia befuddled at the voritor's annoyance with her.

As the pair followed the voritor, Cearia managed to find her voice to explain who they were seeing. "Sister Ashia is preparing for you, Clan Mother."

She knew where the healer dwelled and took the most direct path there. Cearia fell silent for the rest of the journey, occasionally giving Iss-Ka a poignant look, hoping to gain insight with the voritor's behavior. It did distract her from the consuming thoughts of objectionable self-worth, so Iss-Ka's plan was working.

Once they reached the healer's quarters, Cearia immediately opened the flap for Anjali and Iss-Ka to enter first. It was no meager residence as Ashia had to tend to many sick and injured clan members. Along the walls were many long, carved out shelves for jars and boxes filled with ingredients, pastes and liquids, bandages were pilled high from an open chest, and on a wooden table Ashia had chosen several jars of medicine, various wooden and metallic tools and stitching - which was made from dried animal intestines - and a large stone bowl full of clean water. Next to the table was a raised cot that smelled cleaned. Cearia wondered if she was so sensitive to the fresh smell because she herself smelled like sweat, ground, berries, and blood. Iss-Ka curiously sniffed at the medicine on the table and shook her head at the pungent smells. She recoiled and made her way to the cot, waiting for Anjali to come while watching the healer.

Ashia was young for the trade but tragedy had a way of making the inexperienced experience in a blink of an eye. Her large mane of blonde hair was braided back and the skins she wore covered all but her arms.

"Please, Clan Mother ..." She beckoned Anjali to come lay down as blue eyes were already assessing what she could see of the injury, keeping a watchful eye on the voritor. She respected the beast because of her leader, but it did unnerve her. "Sister Grimha said it was a rancor?"

Cearia nodded in confirmation. "The yongon clawed her. Created a deep gash. I used my poultice of herbs and mud to pack the wound after cleaning it best I could. Then wrapped it."

"Hm..." Ashia's slender fingers began to unwrap the dressing once Anjali was in position, noting the care that was taken in managing the wound. "The top dressing is barely damp, but no blood seen. You did well, Great Sister. Your hands are strong as they are gentle."

Cearia said nothing and crossed her arms against her body pensively, hoping that what little she did was enough.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali offered a tired smile and communicated her gratitude to her Voritor via their bond, and with a light but gentle hand atop her head. She understood too well that the lizard needed to be as far away from the rancors as she could. She had been brave and utterly helpful, and the night sister was grateful for that. She still believed that Iss-Ka had earned to scamper off, but the beast was about as stubborn as she was, another testimony to why the gods had brought them together in the days of the cataclysm.

She knew that both her wife and her reptilian companion were worried because of her wound. It wasn't that the Clan Mother had no concern over it; but she had faith in overcoming whatever was thrown her way, after all that had happened leading to the present moment. She dearly hoped, and prayed to the gods that she would keep her arm; but one way or the other, she would continue to give her everything to the Clan.

She let Iss-Ka lead the way, and walked by her wife's side in silence as they headed inside the large network of caverns where the survivors had elected to turn into dwellings in the past months. She was glad that her mate had sought to let Sister Ashia know about her needing attention.

There was a lot that needed to be said between Cearia and her; but Anjali didn't want to make it a public affair, and she needed to keep face before the healer as well. Certain conversations were best kept away from prying eyes and ears, and what she and her wife needed to discuss was as such.

As they reached the healer's quarters, she vaguely noted how Ashia had added more shelves and containers to preserve her remedies and bandages. While young for her trade, she had proved a quick learner and a very talented healer. Anjali was grateful that she had survived and been brought into the fold of the Undead Fires.

"Sister Ashia, thank you for seeing me so quickly," she said wholeheartedly. While her position in the Clan warranted privilege, she knew that had the healer been faced with too many patients, or one of the sisters going into labor, she would have naturally had to wait.

Ashia bowed her head, and had a brief exchange with Cearia, who had found her voice again, much to Anjali's surprise. She smiled when the healer offered a compliment as she unwrapped the bandages the huntress had protected the wounded arm with.

"My wife is a resourceful hunter for sure," Anjali couldn't help saying, both out of affection, and also a reminder to Cearia who had been fretting way too much, exhaustion or not, over her imagined lack of worth.

Ashia nodded and then began to carefully inspect the wound.

"You will not be able to use your arm for at least two moon cycles, Mother Anjali. There is little risk you lose it though, thanks to the early care you received. We should know for sure in two to three days."

The Beast Warden caught Iss-Ka tense and force herself to come to sit closer to her mistress, although in an angle that wouldn't be in the healer's way.

"I am well taken care of, Iss-Ka. You don't need to worry," Anjali said before shooting a look at her wife as she finished her sentence, for the reassurance was also meant for Cearia.

Of course, Anjali couldn't help thinking that if she was fine enough, there was a chance her wife wandered off into the wilderness again, and not simply to hunt. But the Clan Mother refused to be anything else but truthful with the woman she had chosen to share her life with.

[Cearia Tserta]

"It is a pleasure and honor, Clan Mother," Ashia said with a kind smile that reached her eyes.

The healer was keenly aware of Cearia's rigid posture that even took root in her face. Ashia presumed it was concern over her mate and would be disheartened if she were privy to the truth.

Cearia remained standing, anticipation and distress providing enough fuel to keep her from swaying with exhaustion. Despite her inner turmoil, it was important to know how badly damaged Anjali's arm was. She could find no rest without an answer and found no comfort in either woman offering her praise for what she had done to give Anjali her best hope in healing. Truth and anxiety warred inside Cearia as Ashia took the bloodied bandages away and tossed them into a basket.

Cearia kept fretting over her mundane self, wishing she was stronger and faster like the other wardens, then perhaps they could have avoided being here at the healer in silent prayer that the Clan Mother wouldn't loose her arm. With a sharp exhale of breath she was holding, Cearia felt her body relax at the hopeful news. Ashia wasn't entirely sure for a few days, but at least the injury was no longer dire. Yet for the second time today, Cearia avoided Anjali's gaze but attempted it to be a simple draw of her eyes as Ashia went to retrieve supplies. Yes, Anjali would be well taken care of despite the pull of the wild calling Cearia.

"I need to clean and stitch you, Mother Anjali." Ashia's blue eyes shifted to seriousness though her voice was gentle as she dampened clean cloths in the water bowl. "This is for the best chance to keep the arm even though it should be good. The scar will be rough, but a fine mark of glory. And you will need medicine. Salve for the wound and one to drink. Bandages will need to be changed."

She cast a glance between the two women as she returned to Anjali's side and sensed distress. Iss-Ka looked at Ashia with rapidly blinking eyes and darting tongue as if noticing it too. "I would be happy to change them for you ..."

Ashia left the offer hanging in the air and hoped that Anjali would speak her preference for the Huntress or that Cearia would volunteer, while cleaning the wound.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali felt her anger rise within her as she was painfully aware of Cearia's overall mood, the tension in the healer's quarters almost palpable to all present. The Clan Mother forced herself to quell whatever issues she had festering with her wife into the deep confines of her psyche, for it wasn't to be handled in public. And if she could make it easier for the healer to do her work, it was good. She also hoped that Iss-Ka would eventually quiet down, for there was a visible tremor in her tail, despite how the reptile did her best to behave and not disturb anything.

"Do whatever needs to be done," Anjali simply responded, with a nod to Sister Ashia, trusting her to do whatever was needed.

In a weird way, the sting and pain of her wound being tended to brought her focus, which pushed other considerations to the side.

She soon realized that her Voritor was still getting antsier. She clicked her tongue as she stared at the large lizard. She ordered her to go back to her quarters. Iss-Ka whine and darted her tongue out, but gave a look at both her mistress and lowered her head. She gave a gentle pat to Anjali's boot before getting to her feet. She briefly stopped by Cearia, wrapped her tail around the huntress's leg, waiting until Cearia could look at her. Then the lizard pressed her head against the exhausted brunette's other leg and let go of her.

Shortly after the Voritor had left, Ashia discussed the medication needed. Anjali nodded to the instruction; but paused at the mention of bandaged being changed. She noticed how Cearia remained silent on the matter, even when the healer left her sentence hang in the air. Without looking at her mate, the Clan Mother responded.

"My wife will change them for a day or two, until she has to leave for another hunt. Then I will take you up on your offer, Sister Ashia."

The healer nodded and was soon finished with tending to Anjali's wounds. Afterwards, she gathered spare bandages and remedies as she had mentioned. Without hesitation, she then handed them in a pouch to Cearia.

The couple soon departed from the healer's quarters. As soon as they were outside, Anjali offered her arm to her wife, the look in her eyes leaving no room for argument. They would both return to their shared quarters; and she would ensure that her mate got rest.

[Cearia Tserta]

Despite the growls and groans of pain and a slew of curses from Anjali's mother dialect, Cearia mustered enough curiosity to watch the deft hands of a healer closing a wound. She ground her teeth with such force that it was a miracle none of her teeth cracked, anguished that her wife had to suffer through this but also astonished that the Clan Mother didn't take the wooden bite guard. Once again, Cearia felt humbled at her might.

She attempted to focus on the stitching, as it was a useful skill that should be added to her repertoire for injuries. A wound as severe as Anjali's suffered so far from the settlement would need this sort of tending. Her hands could not perform such fluid movements with the thin bone needle, knowing where to poke through skin and stitch evenly on either side, tightening the two pieces of cut flesh closed. It was art to the hunter - the opposite of flaying a bolma's flesh for meat. Cearia debated on future lessons with Ashia to learn this.

Iss-Ka roused her from her musings when she felt pressure around her boot. She looked down to see the voritor nestled again her and that brought a faint smile to her face before the lizard took her leave.

Anjali's decision got Cearia's attention. The hunter had not volunteered to assist with the bandages due to the weight of her suffering keeping her silent. She nodded in acquiescence and took the pouch, repeating back the instructions for the medicines and bandaging. Her head may be full of doubt, but Cearia had paid close attention to how the Clan Mother would recover.

"Thank you, Sister Ashia. We'll see you in two to three days. Hopefully with confirmation that the Clan Mother's arm will be saved," she said, lifting the thin strap of the pouch over her head.

"I have a feeling the gods will be kind, Great Sister," Ashia said warmly before her eyes softened considerably. "Blessings to you both on a swift recovery."

Cearia nodded stiffly at being included before leading Anjali outside. As suffocating as it was to be inside there, being out in the open felt no different. It was an impression that would only heighten the closer they got to their quarters. Cearia didn't have to see her wife's look as it was burning straight into her soul. Anjali could see her wife's neck bob with a hard swallow before an arm looped around hers, securing them together.

She said nothing as they walked deeper into the caverns, not even sparing a glance at the fliers who chirped excitedly at Cearia's return. The blue one hopped and flapped trying to get her attention before sadly clicking with disappointment at being ignored. He was confused why the hunter was so sad and discouraged.

It wasn't long before they were at the entrance to their quarters and Cearia braced for what would come as she pushed the heavy curtain aside and escorted Anjali inside ...

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali's birth clan, the Lavender Rifts, had had a name that might make strangers believed they were a rather cozy tribe. That was far from the truth. While they deeply cared for one another, they all learned that life was a hard mistress from a young age. Medicinal care and extensive training would be provided for all, encouraging them to learn to contribute, and supporting them to find their paths. Yet Anjali had been in Rancor enclosures from a young age, had sustained minor or semi-dire wounds on several occasions. The last time she had use a wooden mouth guard was when she was five years old.

Just as Voritor were magnificent poisonous monsters, so had been the Lavender surrounding her birth clan settlement. All had participated to make Anjali strong and resilient, turning her into pliable and stubborn metal to be refined by the fire in the cataclysm that had destroyed much but not all on Dathomir.

She was grateful for Ashia's care, and appreciated her good wishes as the couple took their leave.

Anjali noticed how Cearia ignored the fliers, even as they passed by them. While she understood exhaustion and carrying the medicinal supplies took its toll over her spouse, she thought her ignoring the blue baby flier quite rude, though she kept that to herself. She took it as yet another sign of the inner turmoil plaguing the huntress.

Once they were inside their quarters, Iss-Ka came to sniff Anjali's bandaged arm, making sure not to touch it. She looked disgusted by the smell of it, and had the same reaction to the supplies Cearia put a on a nearby table. She gently pressed her head against the Clan Mother's extended hand, and then briefly patted Cearia's ankle, before exiting the chamber. Anjali knew she had taken her guarding position right on the other side of the heavy curtains providing the couple with privacy.

Once alone, Anjali let a long sigh escape her lips, in which all her exhaustion, pain, and frustration, crystallized. She felt ready to pass out; but she knew it was also the case for Cearia.

She reached out with her good arm, giving her wife's hand a squeeze.

"You did well today. I doubt you believe me; but I had to say it. Thanks to you, we found the rancors. If I keep my arm, it will be due to your initial care. And you were my hands when I was injured."

She could tell that her wife was trying - and would likely succeed - to retort.

"You must rest," she added in hope to quell any disagreement.

Neither of them was in any shape to have a lengthy discussion. Taking a step back, she sat down to remove her boots, and began to work on removing her outer sleeveless garb with her good hand.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia did not need to be gifted with magick to sense the palpable tension between her and Anjali as she carefully unpacked the pouch. She spent more time setting up the jars and bandages then necessary to delay anything that happened next - be it a word or look shared. Iss-Ka was less temperamental with her, the touch gentle instead of rough like outside. She gave the voritor a crisp nod before one side of her mouth curl upwards in appreciation.

Even with Iss-Ka guarding their dwelling just outside the curtain, Cearia and Anjali were finally alone. She perked up with concern at the escaping sigh her wife allowed. It was all there - the weight of the entire ordeal keenly exhaling to match what the Clan Mother's body must be feeling. Cearia felt it too but remained silent and fought her eyelids from wanting to closed again.

She also fought the urge to stiffen with Anjali's touch, and succeeded, even if Cearia did not squeeze back - eyes fixed on the table instead of her wife while listening. The nod she offered to her wife would be difficult to discern if Cearia agreed with not believing Anjali's words or allowed herself to accept what was said. The continuous turmoil that churned inside her head was answer enough given how Anjali was so sensitive to Cearia's emotions in her exhausted state.

When her wife stepped back, Cearia spared a glance. She felt every fiber of her being wanting to run and find clarity in the wilds like she once had. She was weak, both in body and spirit, to disagree. They both needed to rest and most importantly, Cearia would keep her promise to tend to her wife.

Cearia watched Anjali slowly remove her boots and then reach for her clothing with her good arm. It would be a long process to endure alone, though she knew her wife could manage it.

Before she knew it, Cearia moved to Anjali's side and reached out for the injured arm.

"If it pleases you, Clan Mother ..." Her voice trailed off with deference, carefully supporting her wife's arm as she looped the fabric over it. She then gripped the thin, sleeveless, undershirt by the sides and tugged it free from Anjali's breeches, all with a diverted submissive gaze.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali had genuinely believed that Cearia's shame and self-deprecation had been mostly obliterated by the time they had pledged themselves to each other during their wedding ceremony. She had come to understand she had misjudged how deeply rooted these issues were for her wife. She had felt at a loss about how to address them. She had said her piece more than once; but she had felt it only burdening Cearia more, much to her dismay.

The Clan Mother had no plan to give up on her bond to the huntress. She had been dead serious when she had expressed her interest in the other Night Sister; and she took the oath she had taken to be hers until death parted them very seriously. Regardless of trials, and however she needed to figure out how to help Cearia help herself, she would be by her wife's side.

She wasn't naive and was well aware that arguments and fights were likely over the situation on hands; but she didn't fear. Her wife's stubbornness and misplaced shame angered her, and could even bring her anguish when she felt at a loss about what to do; but she had faith in their bond. She believed they could overcome, no matter how long it would take.

It was also why she had so far postponed her desire to continue the Raskor line; for she wanted Cearia to be involved in her choice of breeder, and later during her pregnancy; but the huntress was already overwhelmed enough with all the great changes in her life; so Anjali had decided to wait. She was still young enough it was a non-issue.

She couldn't tell by her wife's body language how she took her words; but being more vulnerable to Cearia's emotional turmoil due to her exhaustion gave Anjali all answers she needed for the time being.

She had thought the huntress would simply undress and get rest, which was why she was taking care of her own clothing for now. She was genuinely surprised when her wife approached her and assisted her. While she was touched by the attention, being addressed by her title, and witnessing the displayed submissiveness didn't make her happy. This was about enough for her to draw from the last drops of energy she had to pick a fight.

"Thank you, Cearia. I appreciate it," she replied in a neutral tone.

While part of her was riled up at the whole thing; she also refused to turn her chiorikem away when she offered to help, even when it appeared her wife was behaving as a servant rather than as her beloved.

[Cearia Tserta]

It would have been too easy for the use of the hunter's name to snap her out of this passive stupor as the undershirt fell to the floor. Though there was a moment as fingers went to the laces of Anjali's breeches that she was brought back to the night of their joining when her touches were tentative and unsure, instead of stiff and callous. She swallowed the lump in her throat when for a brief moment her fingers turned gentle as they passed along the curve of Anjali's hips, tugging the material down ...

She shook the memory away and chanced a look at the Clan Mother's face. The strong voice that had shouted her wife's name in the forest, fueled by protective instincts in seeing Anjali injured, was now small and exposed. "Please sit so I can remove this ..."

[Anjali Raskor]

This moment was a far cry from previous times shared in their quarters. Such memories felt as if they belonged to another lifetime; but Anjali still fought to maintain the last glimpses of energy to be quiet and let her wife help her. Being sucked back into the past, being angry over the present, or fretting over the future, all required more focus than the Clan Mother had left.

Her eyes briefly met her wife's as the huntress asked her to sit down to make her task easier. She nodded and carefully did as requested.

"I will keep my wraps on. In case an emergency happened, it would be difficult to throw something on in a hurry," she explained.

She had obviously no modesty issue around her beloved; but given her injury, she preferred being safe than sorry. Of course, she truly hoped that she would be able to rest for long hours before anything or anyone required her attention.

[Cearia Tserta]

"A wise idea," she said before going to a knee. "Hopefully nothing will bother us like before I le-"

Cearia's brow furrowed together and quashed past memories and thoughts from distracting her as Anjali was freed from the rest of the clothing. She tossed the breeches with the undershirt and immediately worked on removing her weapons. Bow and quiver were hung up on the stone wall by chiseled stone pegs near the bed and with a sigh, Cearia unbuckled her weapon belt and let it drop on the table, metal daggers and knives hitting the wood with numerous thunks.

She was irritated that her long coat was destroyed in the pursuit of the rancors, but it would be replaced with the game that her hunters had brought back today. Sister Grimha was part of that expedition that returned hours after Cearia and Anjali left to claim the rancor siblings. Her presence confirmed that the hunting party returned safely. There would be plenty of furs and hides that one of the sisters could use to make a new coat for her.

She really held a deep fondness for that coat. It had been one of the few things that had been from her previous life with the Red Hills.

Cearia methodically worked at the straps to loosen her leather armor, letting that join the weapons on the table. She then reached down to pull the thick black sweater over her head, which joined the pile. If she only could realize how she endured the physical demands being weighted down with weapons and armor, returning back to her wife with news swiftly despite the distance, and found so much strength inside of her to persevere to help Anjali was no simple feat. Yet in her mind it wasn't enough.

She slumped down to sit on their bed after loosening her trousers, shucking off one boot at a time against the table with a weary sigh. She debated on washing the paint off her face but now that she was sitting, Cearia wasn't sure if she had the strength to stand again. With effort, she lifted her hips and pushed down her trousers, kicking them to join her boots, now as bare as the Clan Mother.

She turned to Anjali and spoke without the use of a title, but did not use her name either. "Do you need anything else?"

Cearia would find what strength remained and obtain anything that her wife needed.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was surprised that her wife's mind seemed to briefly travel down memory lane, even though it didn't last long for the huntress stopped herself at once. It nevertheless was a subtle encouraging sign to the Clan Mother; or maybe she was simply too exhausted and naturally gravitated towards positive details.

She thanked her wife for her help. She knew that after much needed sleep, she would do much better, they both would. The wound would be problematic and prevent her from ease of movement for a while; but she didn't regret how events had unfolded, given the benefit for the Clan.

Adjusting her position in bed, she chose to lie on her back, for her favorite side position was impossible due to her arm injury. Tilting her head to the side, she watched her wife disrobe and arrange all her weapons and garments. While Cearia might think ill of herself, the Beast Warden marveled at her strength, especially for one who wasn't gifted with the Force, something she knew her mate mourned at times. It was no small feat what she had accomplished that day, from the physical exertion all the way to what was nothing but Beast Warden work with assisting her with the young rancor.

Anjali chose not to verbalize more of her thoughts and high opinion. She had said her piece, and they would eventually pick things up at a later time.

She found some solace when her wife didn't use her title when inquiring whether she needed anything else. She was tempted to tell her that she shouldn't have ignored the blue baby flier. It just didn't sit well with her; but she didn't want to force Cearia to dress up again and go take care of that. Instead she gave a nudge through the Force to Iss-Ka to go watch over the flier for now.

"Another fur blanket would be great, thank you," she eventually replied.

"And having you by my side," she added with a tired smile, as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia anxiously waited for any gesture or word to her offer once their eyes locked, unable to look away or feel detached. Her heart raced with memory of Anjali laying like this on the morning of Cearia's departure - playfully teasing her to stay just a little bit longer. She had wanted to commit the feel of the hunter's body against her own one last time.

The flood of emotion that it provoked immediately watered green orbs, forcing Cearia to blink them into submission before tears broke free. She couldn't rely on her voice, afraid it would crack with how dry her throat suddenly became. It was as if Anjali had never quenched her thirst with water when they were reunited. So she faintly nodded and looked away, deeply inhaling with quiet lungs and balled hands into fists to push against the cushions. It was enough momentum to help her to stand, but she was keenly aware that the next time she sat down it would be her last until her body decided she would wake.

She only allowed a soft grunt of exertion as bare feet padded along the cold stone to a wooden crate at the foot of the bed. Fingers coaxed the top to loosen before finding a grip to heft it open - almost an insurmountable feat with protesting muscles. She leaned against the upright lid to rummage through the choices and selected a thick, long pelt of brown and black, letting the lid fall closed harder than intended. Anjali's second request had surprised Cearia given her detached behavior and she bit back an immediate excuse to say no. She was hypersensitive, Cearia knew this, but her question was directed to Anjali to help her rest, to heal. If that meant the Clan Mother wanted to be close to the hunter, she couldn't say no. She didn't want to say no after the initial panic subsided.

"I need to wash my face first," she explained while coming to Anjali's side of the bed, impressed that her voice held firm, and draped the fur over her wife.

She smelled of cloying overripe berries and she didn't want Anjali to suffer black smudges of paint rubbing onto her or the bedding as they slept. She disappeared into an alcove behind the sleeping area and was not surprised to see the large basin was filled with clean water. Servants brought fresh water, food, and clean linens throughout the day as was necessary for the Clan Mother and her mate - a fact the hunter learned quickly when agreeing to move here. News of Cearia's return had prompted them to restock the bathing area with fresh soaps and cloths too.

Not wanting to keep Anjali waiting, she took a cloth and submerged it into the water. Wringing it out, she slapped some soap onto it before vigorously scrubbing black paint off her face. She scrubbed so hard with punishing intent that surely the motion took off the first layer of skin. If only her doubts could be so easily removed.

She let the soaked cloth hang over the side of the basin and took a clean one to dry her face as darkened water sloshed beneath her. If she had the strength for more, Cearia would have stripped bare and washed her entire body to be clean and refreshed as good as this little pampering felt, but the Clan Mother was waiting for her and there was only sufficient strength left to walk back to bed.

Cearia returned moments later to a half awake Anjali, who had been fighting off sleep long enough to watch her wife join her. She pushed the furs aside and slipped into bed, sighing as her body sunk against the cushions. She was right - unless an act of the gods rejuvenated her, the huntress could no longer stand. Cearia's body begged for sleep but not before she fulfilled Anjali's last request. She scooted over to closed the meager distance between them, choosing to lay on her side so she could drape an arm over Anjali's torso. She unconsciously nuzzled against Anjali's shoulder, craving the contact too.

[Anjali Raskor]

After having pushed beyond her physical and mental limits for the last long hours, Anjali was struggling not falling sound asleep right away; although she knew slumber was closer with every instant that passed now that she was lying down. She was a sponge to all of her wife's emotions, in a way she normally wasn't. She was used to keep a semblance of guard up, as her power had its strongest connection to living beings and the tangible realm. Her current state didn't allow for it, even though she was by no means prying into Cearia's psyche, for it was something she had always refused to do, whether before or after they had entered their relationship.

She mumbled thanks to her beloved as another blanket was placed upon her tired and beaten up body. The Clan Mother had all faith that solid rest would see her back to normal, save for the wounded arm that would require longer. Whatever happened about it, she would carry on, for nothing else would be allowed. The Beast Warden had been raised harshly but lovingly and proudly. Giving her everything to the Clan and by extension to the Gods was how Anjali lived her existence and embodied her role.

She nodded to Cearia when the huntress mentioned needing to wash her face before joining her in bed.

The last figments of consciousness remained when her wife joined her and wrapped an arm around her. There was much to be addressed; but for now Anjali smiled as she fell asleep at last.

*****

When Anjali eventually woke up, she had no idea how much time had passed; but she knew for sure she had been in deep rest, for she hadn't changed position. At least she hadn't injured her bandaged arm any further. The pain was searing as she regained consciousness.

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to find dark solace in it, for it was a reminder she was alive and had prevailed against the ordeal at hand. She felt the gift from the Gods course raw through her being and it made her embrace the pain as well as feeling grateful for her recouping.

She turned to look at her wife, still sleeping. She smiled, feeling pride wash over her. Cearia would have to accept her own capabilities and worth at some point.

For now, the Clan Mother managed to slip out of bed, standing with renewed ease. While her arm felt more painful than it had the previous day, she needed to bathe, and thus padded her way to the next room. Removing the wraps with one hand was annoying; but Anjali was set on taking care of herself without requesting any help.

[Cearia Tserta]

The gods granted Cearia dreamless sleep and only stirred when the bed felt empty. She switched her position to face where Anjali had laid, reaching for her and ended up with a fistful of fur. Cearia's brows creased in displeasure as her hand slid up and down to find the Clan Mother, only feeling the beginnings of chill on the pelts.

She opened her eyes and immediately felt refreshed. Exhaustion was lifted and strength had returned to her body, but her heart still weighed heavy with doubt. Sitting up in bed, Cearia rubbed her eyes free from sleep before casting her gaze across the room. It was difficult to say how much time had passed but it was of some significance. Her leather armor was neatly folded atop the table cleaned and repaired next to the glistening blades of freshly polished knives and daggers that had been removed from her belt and carefully lined across the table for Cearia's inspection. On the chair next to the table were fresh clothing for both Anjali and Cearia and boots gleaming from being cleaned that stood at attention on the floor. The sight of it all was a reminder for the hunter of who she was bound to.

Cearia's heart warred with thoughts that were best left unsaid - feeling that she was too quick to accept Anjali's interest and join soon after. Perhaps the Clan Mother wanted to act fast because of Enjo's intentions, or anyone that had entertained the thought of courting Cearia. With devotion to her leader, she was willing to accept all of it as Anjali was understanding and patient with her despite Cearia's glaring flaws. The vows she spoke and the offerings to the gods were pure and just after her sabbatical to cleanse her doubts.

Why didn't it work? Why did her heart still beat with challenge after challenge with meekness when it came to Anjali? Anjali who loved her and said she was enough? Why didn't she yet love Anjali back?

She shook her head and shoved the furs aside to stand, not wanting to finish her self condemnation, and went to find her mate. It wasn't hard as the sounds of water sloshing around caught her attention. She appeared at the bathing alcove and was happy to see Anjali awake and strong before Cearia focused on the wounded arm. The stitching held nicely, the skin still red and bruised from the initial damage and effort of Ashia's healing hands. It looked clean with no pus or colorful discharge indicating illness and there were no signs of black, dead, skin. The arm was surviving and Cearia hoped it remained as such for the next day or two.

"I'll prepare the medicine and bandages to redress your wound once you're done bathing, Clan Mother," she said instead of offering to help, knowing that Anjali had been rejuvenated with rest and magick. The pile of wraps and bandages clearly displayed her mate's vigor.

[Anjali Raskor]

Bathing felt amazing after the insane day and the solid rest. Anjali felt her rejuvenated body relax further as she proceeded to clean up. Having only one arm for the process was annoying; but it was nothing likely to stop her. She was strong and agile enough to make things happen. It was also interesting how she denied herself the use of her gifts to help herself. She wanted to be able to rely only on her physical skills. She didn't take the blessings from the gods for granted, and ensuring she didn't become lazy had been drilled into her mind from a young age.

She felt her wife awake at some point. She smiled, relieved that Cearia had been able to get more sleep after she had discreetly left their bed. She was even more impressed for the huntress hadn't slept that much longer than she had, once again proving her outstanding resilience.

Anjali's mood turned sour moments later.

She growled and without thinking twice, threw the bar of herbal soap into Cearia's direction.

As patient as she had been with her beloved, and was willing to continue being, that was one too many "Clan Mother."

"STOP THIS."

She stood upright, unbothered by her nakedness as she stared at Cearia.

"Is this so unbearable to be my wife that you must play servant to tolerate it?"

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia braced for Anjali's understandable wrath but was not expecting a bar of soap to be flung at her. She shifted her weight and moved to the side as the soap landed on the ground. The impact caused it to crack in two before easily sliding away. She visibly winced when righting herself, taking the well earned verbal lashing.

She balled her hands into fists, uncertain what to say or do that wouldn't make this worse. Her silence would not help at all. Anjali appreciated her honesty despite the difficulty in speaking it. She needed to find what strength and humility within her to do that once again.

"You asked me if I was anguished in learning you wanted me as your mate," she began with eyes cast to the floor. The shame Cearia felt was so heavy that it was impossible to lift her head. "I said I wasn't. Just ... confused."

Her throat bobbed with a hard swallow. "I was ... wrong ..."

She breathed through her distress, eyes blinking with sadness with her next confession. "I'm weak, Clan Mother. My behavior proves it."

And you deserve better than this mess of me...

[Anjali Raskor]

Tossing the soap at her wife hadn't meant to hurt her in any fashion, for it had simply been a gesture of frustration. And really the last thing Anjali was worried about was Cearia getting hurt by a piece of soap thrown at her, given the huntress's skills. She had tried to understand and be patient; but at this point it was really mystifying to her.

She stared a her wife, waiting for an answer. She knew there was a chance none would be offered; but she still hoped for it. Without knowing what was on Cearia's mind, there was very little she could do about it.

She pushed aside the pain in her arm for the moment, and retrieved a nearby linen to wrap herself in, although she kept her eyes upon her beloved at all times.

Even though it was difficult to hear, she was grateful that Cearia actually responded. The Clan Mother wanted to see this as a first step towards better communication and maybe even improvement down the line.

She growled at the huntress saying she was weak. It was one load of Rancor shit if she had ever heard one. This baffled her that her wife could feel as such; but she knew better than to just tell her how she view her, for it had already been established it didn't change a thing. Cearia needed to figure that out for herself.

She didn't say much for a while, figuring out what was her best option. At least Cearia was still before her, so that was something.

"I appreciate your honesty," she eventually said.

She chose not to step forward, leaving the current distance between her beloved and herself as it was.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia was well aware of Anjali's presence - where she walked, the soft sound of linens bunching up around her wife's body. She was painfully aware of the distance between them, which surprised Cearia. Her behavior was off putting so why would Anjali want to be near her? The polarity of her feelings towards the Clan Mother, her wife, confused and angered her. The two of them should be celebrating their successful return - instead, Anjali was dealing with the fallout of her wife's guilt and anguish again.

She visibly winced once again at hearing the Clan Mother growl, but Cearia stood her ground, well aware that Anjali would not like the truth that passed her lips. When Anjali spoke, Cearia nodded in acknowledgment, not ready to lift her head. She was grateful that she listened to her gut and spoke truthfully. What was asked next caused Cearia's shoulders to slump forward in doubt.

"I don't know," she answered quietly, lightly shaking her head. "I truly thought the time away before we joined would have quieted my distress. I'd do it again, but I know you want me here to help you. I want to be here to help you."

Slowly Cearia raised her head but forest green eyes looked to Anjali's wound. "You arm needs tending to now that you're done bathing ..."

She swallowed down Anjali's title this time.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali would have normally closed the distance between her and Cearia; but right at this moment, there was a part of her worried that if she appeared to overbearing, her wife might just scamper off into the wilds. Of course, the rational part of her knew the huntress had made a promise to help tend to her arm for a couple of days. Given Cearia's strong anguish, it was hard to be sure that this mental plague might not take over.

She felt that she had turned into a beast warden in how she was attempting to find the right balance with how to behave with her wife right now, somewhere being deep care and yet coaxing answers out of her.

Her heart broke and yet her spirit rose at her beloved's genuine answer. It was a difficult one to speak and hear; but Anjali had strong faith in the gods' blessings and her marriage.

"I am willing to give you space if you need it; but know I will never forsake you."

She didn't know whether it would assuage any of her wife's fears and shame; but she knew it was important to reiterate it.

She looked at her arm, when her wife spoke of the required care. She hadn't been thinking about it as her focus was on Cearia and the issues they were having, pushing her pain aside for the time being.

"You are right. I would appreciate your help with cleaning and bandaging it anew."

She walked up to her wife this time, also noting how the huntress hadn't used her title this time. It might be a tiny victory; but Anjali didn't take it for granted.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia scoffed and bared her teeth, momentarily fighting off a growl of frustration. "Space did nothing. Why should I expect something different even if I wanted to go again?"

Her words held the most bite since she left on expedition, but Cearia's tenacity dissipated as quickly as it appeared. She didn't understand, or deserve, Anjali's patience. It was appreciated but if the untamed land that called to Cearia couldn't give her peace, why would she leave again, even if her gut told her to flee...

"And I'd never forsake you. Even ... even if I don't feel worthy to be your mate ..." She admitted with a hard swallow. Cearia wanted to say that aloud as much as it hurt to hear the words because she took her vows seriously. She cared deeply for Anjali but it warred with her own self worth.

She tentatively reached out to take Anjali's hand and gently lifted it to get a better look at how the stitching held along the injured arm. Up close, Ashia's work was art. The wound was not. It was angry and bruised but healing nicely as she first observed. She let her thumb gently outline the edge of bruised skin where it started to discolor, not bothering to ask how her strength was. Anjali was able to bathe and wrap herself without assistance, who smelled refreshed whereas Cearia smelled still of sweat and grime. She could smell a hint of berry which annoyed her. She felt all but sweet and needed to bathe once Anjali's arm was tended to.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali stood stoically as she stared at her wife's angry and bitter reaction. She saw that as a good sign.

It was a significant improvement from the sulking and rigid honorific words that had happened in the recent past. Something had to break the wound open so they could have a chance to do something about it.

There was also some weird satisfaction about seeing Cearia have such bite, and it was good to see it on a personal level and not simply in her work to serve the Clan. That reminded Anjali once again why her heart had chosen the huntress over anyone else.

The Beast Warden found solace in hearing her beloved say that she wouldn't forsake her either. She hadn't been that worried about it; but at the same time knowing that her wife's anguish had only spiraled over the last weeks had given her more concern than she had been willing to admit.

She let Cearia take her hand and inspect the wound. The pain resurfaced; but Anjali was more concerned about the discussion at hand than her arm. She knew that both Ashia and Cearia provided the best care possible, and she was a good patient in terms of taking her salves and having the wound tended when it should.

While her wife took care of her injured arm, Anjali was still mulling over their discussion.

As the huntress had said, storming off on her own hadn't solved anything. Yet the Clan Mother recalled vividly how their time together in the wilderness had been among the happiest they had had. She wondered whether doing that again might help.

After all, the clan was under no emergency now, and one of the perks of having a council of leaders was that it allowed them to travel individually when the need arose. If she left Iss-Ka behind, she also knew that the Voritor would find her rapidly in case anyone needed her at the enclave.

"Would you like us to travel together away for a bit?"

[Cearia Tserta]

Their silence was tense but not as profound before Cearia found courage to speak honestly. This had helped ease some of Anjali's frustration and anger towards her fool of a mate, though it didn't lessen the shame the hunter felt at all. Cearia was at a loss as to what could help her or how Anjali could. It felt like an immeasurable obstacle that the hunter could not defeat.

She did have a promise to keep and that would be her immediate focus. With a gentle squeeze of Anjali's hand, Cearia led her to the main area to dress the wound. She pulled a chair out by the table where all the supplies Ashia had given them waited and opened the first jar when her mate sat down. The pungent liquid hit nose fast that it forced nostrils to flare and her face could not hide its disgust. She certainly hoped it taste better but Ashia gave strict instructions for the Clan Mother to start drinking this twice a day upon waking. She poured the proper amount in a metal cup and slid it before Anjali, her gaze urging her luck in drinking the elixir before washing her hands.

Servants had added to the bandages that Ashia had given them. They had neatly stacked the rolled up cloths into a pyramid next to the bowl used to wash her hands. She patted hands dried and opened the next jar for the salve. It smelled pleasing to Cearia as it reminded her of the forests - the lush fresh scent of bright colored leaves and wet dirt. She recognized that the salve was similar to what she brought on hunts and used initially on Anjali's injury.

She pulled up a chair next to her mate but left enough room for her to cradle the arm against her own, gently cupping it before the elbow. Two fingers dipped into the salve and vigilantly spread the paste along the stitching in a soothing circular pattern. She applied enough pressure for the medicine to do good, but not so hard that Anjali would suffer needlessly. Ashia was right in her assessment that Cearia was gentle and strong with her hands depending on what they were needed for.

Cearia appreciated this task, pleased that Anjali wanted her to take care of her regardless of the difficulties her mate had in accepting life as the Clan Mother's mate. Tasks like this gave her purpose and focus, even if clarity eluded Cearia, but her devotion to Anjali was there even if it was muddled with loyalty as a subject to the Clan Mother.

Now that the stitching was well lubricated with salve, Cearia peeled her hand from under the injured arm to wipe her fingers clean. When she partially unrolled a bandage and set to cover the wound, Anjali ended the silence. The suggestion clearly surprised Cearia, causing eyes to widen curiously despite hands never faltering with their work.

"Sister Ashia needs to see you," she said as a reminder while thinking over the offer. "You can't leave until that's done."

She dared glance properly at her mate as the last of the bandage was wrapped in place. "And I've a feeling my arguments will be countered if I dare suggest you're needed here more, hm?"

Cearia looked away and tied the bandage off, covering her mate's hand between her own. "Do you really think it will help if you go with me?"

Her voice was quiet, unsure, as she also was reminded of their only excursion together - when they patrolled the canyons and found the baby fliers. That day was filled with so many firsts that it was hard to believe that it had been real.

Skrish ... I'll have to see the yongons today and apologize for my rudeness ...

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali knew that it would likely be a long and difficult journey for Cearia to eventually overcome her misplaced shame and feeling of unworthiness; but she was grateful they were at least able to talk. While it didn't solve everything; it still allowed them to express certain things, regardless of how difficult it was. As cunning and ruthless as she could be under certain circumstances; Anjali wished for nothing but honesty with her wife, even when it felt unbearable.

She followed her wife's lead into the main area and was a well-behaved patient, even when she had to drink that atrocious concoction. She understood its reason; and really it was a meager price to pay for having brought the rancors to the Clan. Leading by example was something she had witnessed in her birth clan, and she hoped to do the same for the Undead Fires.

She was nevertheless looking forward to retrieving the full use of her arm, and be done with ingesting disgusting liquids whenever possible. It wasn't because she was patient and stubborn that she rejoiced in having to put up with a badly wounded arm.

She was surprised that the salve smelled so delightful in comparison. It almost made her feel as she was in the midst of the forest, with spring bringing to life all meadow flowers to life. She could almost picture the vivid colors in her mind.

Her wife's tending to the arm was strong and gentle, which Anjali appreciated. There was something about the huntress that often made her think that Cearia was more comfortable having something to focus on, so the unwelcome ruminations had less space to exist.

She didn't know what to expect when she suggested they both left for a trip together. Even though she couldn't wander off for weeks at a time; like Cearia could, Anjali couldn't help thinking it was worth a try.

"I would see Sister Ashia before we depart. After that, if you're willing to continue helping me with tending to my injury, we could be away for several days."

She couldn't help smiling at the huntress's comment about getting her arguments countered.

"You are correct. If you can spare time away from your furthest hunting expeditions for a few days, I can arrange to be gone for this amount of time."

She looked at the neatly tied bandage and then back at her beloved.

"I don't know; but I think it's worth trying."

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia considered everything that Anjali said and realized that when it came to the vows that bound them, they were equally stubborn for different reasons. Anjali was determined to find a solution so the two of them could move past Cearia's insecurities and unworthiness being the Clan Mother's mate, the root cause her glaring deficit - unable to use magick like the majority of Dathomir witches. If either understood the irony of that misnomer, that Cearia was born of the Force instead of overtly using it, all of her self-doubt would immediately dissipate and stand worthy at Anjali's side. It was impossible to tell if that would ever be understood, so Cearia remained stubborn in denying her self worth to her Clan Mother, not the clan itself. She was confident as a hunter, but not as the mate to one of the most influential and powerful members of the Undead Fires.

"Grimha is one of my strongest hunters and I could have her lead the expedition so there are no delays. I understand that's not as easy for you," she explained coolly, despite every urge of hers wanting to go. Repairing her relationship with Anjali had to take priority. "However, if Sister Ashia says you're not well enough to leave, I will lead the expedition and when I return, we can ... spend time together."

She spoke with finality on the matter because it was the only logical response if the healer felt the Clan Mother was not ready. "If you are well enough, I'll make sure there's enough medicine and supplies to dress your wound. You know it'll be my honor to assist you ..."

Her title was still on the tip of Cearia's tongue and it was difficult to bite it back, her face giving away the struggle - cheeks sinking inwards as tension rippled through her features. Suddenly she stood and took her hand away. "I need to bathe. And check on the fliers."

The conversation had become trying for her despite its brevity. She had reached her limits on opening up, her anxiety heightening and afraid she would say something to start a fight again. Without waiting for an answer, she walked around Anjali's chair and suddenly felt a pull to pause. Her heart felt heavy in one beat and light in another, pounding ferociously and anxiously - warring with staying by her mate's side and running away to avoid her feelings.

instead of retreating, Cearia surprised herself as she returned to stand behind Anjali and leaned over to kiss into her hair, squeezing the shoulder of the uninjured arm. "I'm glad you weren't injured worse ..."

Her words were muffled by Anjali's hair as Cearia tightly closed her eyes. The image of her mate severely injured came rushing back - all of the blood coating Anjali's arm, the wound mangled with meat and clothing. The rage and protective instincts that rose within her startled Cearia.

The fresh scent of herbal soaps from her mate's bathing brought Cearia back to the present as she deeply inhaled, fixed that Anjali was safe. "I pray to the gods that remains true when Ashia sees you again ..."

She swallowed hard and forced the next word through gritted teeth for the benefit of her mate who could sense her distress. " ... Anjali ..."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali only knew about the Red Hills Clan because of what her wife had shared with her. She had had no interaction with them. She wished that Cearia's birth clan had been more welcoming to non-Force using members, as the Lavender Rift had been. It had been one of the challenges of uniting all survivors under the Undead Fires banner: handling differences as best as possible through finding balance between cohabitation and preservation of traditions from birth tribes. Where Anjali's clan had been inclusive of non-Force wielders, she had been puzzled by how Cearia behaved with males at times. The Red Hills certainly kept males in a subordinate position, but not as drastically as Anjali's clan had. The Clan Mother appeared to have come from one of the tribes that ensured males kept their places with most sternness. As much as Anjali could appreciate a male's talents to serve his clan, there wasn't the shadow of a doubt in her mind about which gender was superior.

She listened to what Cearia said about another Sister Hunter. Grimha was a good one indeed, very skilled and she had seen her be attentive to some of the youth in the Clan, likely keeping an eye out for future recruits. It had been interesting because several of the children had sought out her mate instead, but Anjali had always seen Cearia keep her distance. Granted, Anjali had had few occasions to spend time with the children either; though due to her position they didn't rush to her much, even though the Beast Warden actually loved kids and had raised her younger twin sisters after their mother's passing. She missed the little monsters a lot. They had been good night girls and with so many gifts.

She didn't argue over the options laid out by her wife. It made sense, and she wasn't as crazy as risking her arm's healing when no emergency required her to.

"We can see Sister Ashia later today, and speak with her. Then, we will act accordingly."

Although she knew that Cearia would believe her regardless, it made sense to her that her wife was present during her next visit to the healer.

Anjali was genuinely relieved that Cearia didn't push her idea away, and was willing to make this joint trip happen. She had no way to know what awaited them should they embark upon it; but she couldn't help thinking the wilderness might soothe them and help their bond grow closer regardless of the hardships.

Cearia's efforts not to address her by her title were evident, but Anjali didn't comment on it, simply offering a warm smile of thanks to the absent title, even when it lingered on her beloved's tongue.

She tilted her head and looked at Cearia when she spoke of needing to bathe, and then seeing the fliers.

"A sound plan," she replied, glad she didn't have to mention the fliers matter to Cearia, for she had thought about it by herself.

Her eyes didn't stray from her wife, and she was surprise when the huntress turned back and came to carefully embrace her and kiss into her hair. She reached out with her good hand, and rested it on Cearia's arm. In the privacy of the moment, Anjali couldn't avoid feeling the overwhelming and contradictory emotions raging deep within her mate. She didn't let them overcome her, nor did she pry into them, simply offering her presence to her wife.

The way Cearia said her name, without the attached title, made Anjali's heart rejoice, and yet her soul felt distress over how difficult it was for Cearia to call her as such.

"Go bathe, my love," she said with seriousness as she tilted her head to touch her wife's face.

Hopefully getting some time to herself would help ease Cearia's mind.

[Cearia Tserta]

The difficulty in addressing Anjali without title at least offered a small reward in seeing her mate smile. A smile that was brighter than the morning dawn's first light that cascaded down the Red Hills. It was a smile that Cearia should create more often but the distress over her self-worth limited it, compounding the insecurities she felt being Anjali's chosen. Every effort made sadistically spiraled the hunter's doubts within her heart, wishing that their feelings mirrored one another. Too engrossed with being worthy of the Clan Mother, Cearia was obtuse, failing to realize affection had turned into love just yesterday...

Cearia closed her eyes and immediately leaned into the offered touch, guiltily craving the contact even if at the same time she felt the urge to pull away. The utterance of Anjali's devotion and love made that easier. "I won't take long," she agreed with raspy voice as she stood upright, forcing Anjali's hand to slide free.

She didn't spare another thought in looking back or seeking further comfort from Anjali as she immediately began to remove her wraps. As she returned to the room behind their bed she picked up the thrown bar of soap along the way. The soap was replaced on the table near the tub and she dipped two fingers into the water to test the temperature. It was no longer hot but warm, which was acceptable. She could call servants for more coals or fresh water, but she did not deserve the pampering and swung a leg over the edge to enter.

The bath was warmer towards the bottom, a pleasant surprise to Cearia as she submerged herself where the water gently sloshed around her neck. She only afforded a moments pause to sit there and soak - to clear her mind of duty and commitments - until the weight of everything came crashing back to consciousness. Her chest tightened, neck flaring in pain that the muscles strained against skin. She shot up and snatched the soap bar and like the day prior, vigorously scrubbed skin. It became a task to rid herself of two weeks of filth and blood and sweat - a focused task in which nothing else mattered except to complete her goal. From neck to toe, Cearia's skin held a cleansed sheen that was faintly painted pink with the efforts. Then the leather straps that held her braids together were freed before she fully submerged, shaking out her long brunette locks that tendril outwards from her scalp under the water. When she rose from the water, she slicked her hair back and grabbed the soap once more, forgoing the shampoo made from oils, water, and floral found near the settlement.

She worked hard a lathering up the soap before taking the bar to her hair. Nails scrapped along her scalp, eliciting more pain than pleasure in the act of unconscious punishment. She ducked only her hair under the water, scrunching the long locks together to rid it of soap as she stared passively at the stone ceiling. Part of her, the coward that wanted to run away, was hoping Ashia informed Anjali that she had to remain here. The expedition would only delay the inevitable because as soon as Cearia would return, Anjali would be well enough to travel and the two of them would depart immediately. Her mate would have it no other way.

Neither Cearia or Anjali would deny their bond, but the hunter was apprehensive of what would happen when it was just them. She was angering Anjali with her behavior, the bar of soap a clear reminder when it was thrown at her, which made her afraid of irreparable damage might be said or done. It was foolish anxiety making her believe that, but it always lingered, making Cearia believe the worst in herself, instead of how well the two of them got along when they were alone in the caverns finding the fliers. They were not Clan Mother or Huntress, just two mates being.

She slipped out of the tub with conflicted emotions, wrung her hair, and grabbed fresh linen to dry herself with before wrapping it around her body. Her mind and heart may still be at odds, but at least Cearia was clean. That was a good feeling as she padded barefoot back into their room and rummaged through what clothes and armor she wanted to wear.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali might not know the depth of her chiorikem's inner conflict; but she knew enough to appreciate that Cearia leaned into the embrace for a moment, before eventually walking away. She was grateful that her wife still welcomed her touch on most occasions. She also made sure not to insist shall the huntress express discomfort. There was a fine line between having an argument and being an actual bully, and Anjali had no intention to cross that line with her beloved, even when Cearia could test her patience, and repeatedly at that.

The Clan Mother watched her wife leave the room, glad that she was able to bathe and have some time to herself.

She eventually got to her feet, grateful for the new bandage on her injured arm. It would be painful and with restricted movement for a while, but she had faith she would be fine. Hopefully Ashia would clear her up to go off on travels, especially with Cearia's talents to tend to her arm, and her own obedience to what needed to be done to ensure the best healing possible.

As she walked back into their bedroom, the sight of fresh clothing reminded her that yesterday's events had cost Cearia her dear coat. Anjali made a mental note to speak to the Clan's leatherworker shortly, so Nerolia could make a new coat for her mate, especially given the huntress's extensive travels.

For the time being, she removed the towel and worked on putting clean wraps around her body by herself. She managed to do it, even though it took her longer than normal, but her patience didn't run thin. Afterwards, she sat down on a stone bench, and worked on taming her still damp mane with a comb, which proved more challenging, but she was stubborn.

She was almost done with it when Cearia arrived. Anjali's eyes took in the sight of her wife. She got to her feet as the huntress went to rummage through clothes. Even with their earlier altercation, the insanity of the previous day, it was difficult for the Clan Mother not to desire her stubborn beloved.

Standing behind her, she wrapped her good arm around Cearia's waist and nuzzled her shoulder and neck, enjoying the scent of soap and herbs on her wife's skin.

She had agreed to go see Ashia, and she knew that Cearia planned to go apologize to the fliers, as she should. but it didn't mean they couldn't spend some more time in the privacy of their quarters.

[Cearia Tserta]

As they were to stay in the caverns for the time being, Cearia felt that simple clothing would be best instead of donning armor atop it. There was much to do and she felt that expedience was the best course of action, even if leathers were a second skin to her, it would still take time to fully dress. The pile would be simple - wraps, trousers, shirt and tunic - except she wasn't nearly done in choosing the specifics when a presence was sensed behind her. Soon an arm locked around her as Anjali's front pressed firmly against her back eliciting a quieted gasp. The gentle nuzzling along the curve of her neck sent chills throughout her body, forcing hairs to raise in betrayal that the touches were wanted and welcomed.

The rapidly beating heart inside Cearia's chest pounded her usual song of anxiety and warred with rejecting her mate's tenderness. She fist the fabric in hand as body immediately tensed while war raged between heart and mind. Cearia was astonished that Anjali wanted closer intimacy after her behavior. Clearly the soft brush of her hand along her mate's cheek was not enough to satiate Anjali's longing. The newly bonded pair had been separated for almost two weeks, a burden that each were well aware of and respected. Out in the wilds with her hunters, Cearia felt the sting of loneliness of not having Anjali by her side as she slept, to not have unruly blonde mane there to nuzzle into that was more comforting then the softest pillow stitched together. Also as her mate slept, she had forged a memory of every blemish, scar and curve of Anjali's body - allowing fingers to trace a map so it could be called upon when Cearia allowed her mind to drift with recollection. As far as she knew it was a secret Anjali was ignorant of, the worship given as she deeply slumbered because even as they consummated their bodies to mirror their vows, Cearia was too in awe to show such overt affection even in private.

It was also that unbridled devotion that consumed her fears of self-worth that was potentially sabotaging their relationship. The vows that were promised would never be broken - Cearia took that seriously. There would be no other for her. She belonged to Anjali. She belonged to the Clan Mother. Those two truths caused conflict as years of her people's beliefs had been pounded into her head that she wasn't worthy to protect or advise the Clan Mother of the Red Hills, how could she be bound to the leader of the Undead Fires? The cataclysm had cleansed the lands and started the Undead Fires as a new clan, but it had not dismissed the teachings of Cearia's people. Not yet.

So her anxiety came out with fury once they reunited - needing to be faster and stronger, wishing she had the power of her mate. The disconnect was immediate and severe, calling Anjali by title and deferring to her as if Cearia were some common witch in the clan instead of her bonded. Anjali was blessed with patience because of the danger in subduing the rancors, and it wasn't easy. But Anjali endured her behavior because she loved Cearia.

As eyes grew wet with her impotence, Cearia let go of the clothing to grip the arm around her as if to make sure this was real.

"Anjali ..." She whispered in a strangled voice as her grip loosened to stroke her arm, claiming the fingers that held her between that hand. The utterance of her mate's name was the closest Cearia could prove that she was sorry for her behavior, even if at a loss as how to overcome her fears.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali hadn't been certain that Cearia would welcome her touch at this point, but she was of the mind that expressing interest and being turned down was better and healthier than just keeping her desire for herself. She would have been willing to abide by her wife's negative response; but she was elated that the huntress's physical reaction first indicated that her gestures were welcomed.

Of course, she felt the usual tension run through Cearia's body as she held her wife close. Yet, Anjali didn't let her beloved go right away, gently resting her face against Cearia's shoulder for a moment. She knew that the anxiety and shame often clouded more joyful emotions their marriage stirred in the huntress. While they hadn't been bonded for very long, she had come to understand the inner workings of her wife's soul, at least to the degree of being able to recognize when her mate felt torn into two different directions. So, she gave her time to process that but didn't retreat yet.

While she had no idea of her wife's secret, Anjali longed for her mate in the nights they slept separately. She was proud of what Cearia did for the Clan and would never get in her calling's way. Yet she still missed her, and their bed felt empty without the huntress by her side. Not only had the Clan Mother taken her vows very seriously, but she deeply loved the woman she had chosen as her mate.

She briefly felt the stark surprise rippling from her mate. Anjali briefly pondered speaking up in reassurance; but she thought that actions would speak louder than words in this case, and they had already talked much. While it was important that they brought up what was going on and weighted on Cearia's mind and their relationship by extension, Anjali hoped that physical intimacy as well as general time away together, might help her beloved move through the ancient teachings that still brought her down.

There was a torrent of emotions that Anjali let herself feel from her mate. Out of habit, she often kept her guard up as not to be overwhelmed by external emotions, and also out of respect for her wife's privacy. The exhaustion of the previous day had seen her be hit full force by them. She allowed herself to experience it again as she felt Cearia rest her fingers, first firmly then more gently on her good arm.

The utterance of her name was both a blessing and a curse, for she knew that Cearia was struggling with so much. Yet Anjali was grateful that her wife let her in.

She slowly backpedaled, her arm still loosely around her wife, until she had enough space so she could move around to face Cearia. While her intentions remained the very same, especially marked as she slowly stepped forward so her wife would end with her ass on the bed sooner than later, she enjoyed the time they could borrow. She reached out with her good hand to rest it on her wife's waist, fingers curling a bit into the linen still clinging to Cearia's body, right after she claimed the huntress's lips in a kiss.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia bit back a whine that wanted freedom when the comforting presence of her mate left her. In her panic, she erroneously believed she had offended Anjali and knew her thoughts were idiotic but emotions were charged between them. The air was thick with tension from their earlier fight and shared loneliness over the weeks that even the loss of firm contact didn't diminish the heat between them. Just like last night when she unconsciously snuggled against Anjali, craving her presence that was sorely missed in the weeks away. She could have just laid there and simply gave her wife consoling touches that would fulfill Anjali's wishes. Perhaps if she were not exhausted and every joint sore from yesterday's laborious trials, she would have as penance for the shame she felt. Last night it was clear they both needed each other despite Cearia's unreasonable behavior.

The arm around her slowly drifted in the direction that Anjali moved before Cearia, reflexively making the hunter swallow and cast her eyes downward. She grit her teeth at the foolish action as Anjali's shadow cast before her, feeling the Clan Mother close in. She felt like prey, with the stark contrast that it was Anjali's desire that stalked her and not danger.

Though that was the crux of the dual emotions that fought within her. The clear desire that she developed in their short time together stoked hotter with what Anjali wanted, yet at the same time it was difficult to accept that someone like her could be wanted by such a woman like the Clan Mother. It was the same circular argument that churned deep inside like violent storm clouds amassing high in the skies. Through the fury of emotions and the shuffling of feet withdrawing backwards upon Anjali's insistence, Cearia looked up (https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwj9sYDiw-rjAhWXBc0KHQZICp0QjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fgiphy.com%2Fgifs%2Fjason-clarke-JgumYDmgXfa6I&psig=AOvVaw2BOJ5uhUa3UEXAWCtt0MvL&ust=1565053218397577) into the face of her mate with tears on the verge of release. Anjali's love and desire was plainly etched into her features, forcing the hunter to choke back a sob before accepting the kiss.

Fingers reached behind Anjali's head, tangling into the mostly combed mane of blonde hair as the kissed coaxed out a pent up moan, almost a betrayal of private wants since separated from her mate. Anjali knew that she was Cearia's first and on the night they consummated their joining, she was soft, tender, and reassuring - never intimidating and ever so patient as Clan Mother and Huntress explored one another. Now there was an underlying eagerness as Anjali's mouth was firm and demanding against her own, and Cearia felt obligated to open her mouth with acceptance. When she cupped Anjali's cheeked, Cearia felt a pang of worry towards her mate's arm, suddenly remembering the wound was there. It was a considerable injury and this wasn't a particular safe activity with it so fresh, but with Anjali devouring her mouth and the wrapped linen around her body loosening, Cearia wasn't in the right state to voice her concerns ...

[Anjali Raskor]

Even after months since the cataclysm subsided, leaving the survivors to rebuild from scratch, there was lingering urgency that could fire hearts and souls in the Undead Fires, and Anjali was no stranger to them. That was why, despite her worry of seeming too forward to the huntress, she had confessed her growing affections to her back in the forest, the fated day they had become mates. Anjali had witnessed too much not to heed the guidance of the spirits that surrounded them, gods that knew better but nevertheless gave them free will to conduct their existence.

She knew their nuptials had been fairly prompt afterwards, but she had never doubted her decision. And as much as she was fully supportive of her wife's work as lead hunter, she still craved her presence, all the more with the time they had spent apart.

While they had been reunited earlier than originally expected, the previous day had been trying and exhausting, leaving them both in dire need of rest; but even with the recent altercation, Anjali desired her mate, the shared nights right after their wedding having only made her yearn for more intimacy with Cearia. And the maelstrom of the last twenty four hours had also heightened her eagerness.

She took in the changes in her wife's behavior and body language, even the subtle ones. The war unfolding over and over again within Cearia was something that the Clan Mother was still learning to respond to, and she was eager to do so. As much as it pained her to be of little help to erase the old teachings that were still plaguing her beloved, she was doing her very best to understand and work with the nuances and contradictions that were part of the woman she loved.

Her touch was still gentle and reassuring, as it had been since the first time they had explored each other; but her desire was more pressing and she didn't hide it, or minimize it. As much as she danced with what Cearia had to offer, issues included, she wanted to remain truthful, even when it was showing that she was eager to enjoy carnal intimacy with her beloved.

She saw the tears threatening to fall, but she felt happiness lace with her desire as her wife accepted the kiss. She smiled into it as Cearia reached into her hair. There was an irony that while she was her beloved's first and that Cearia could feel undeserving, their physical intimacy tended to even ground between them. She gladly took it, which was why she didn't relent as she slowly but certainly moved so they got closer to their bed.

Her wound wasn't forgotten, but she was instinctively relying on her good arm to make do for that, as her fingers deftly tugged at the loosened linen. To be on the safe side, she snatched it before it fell down, so she could toss it aside, so they wouldn't trip over it.

Soon enough, her hand returned to her beloved's hip, as she could finally nudge her onto the furs covering their bed.

[Cearia Tserta]

Anjali repeatedly pressed against her with urgency, causing Cearia's feet to shuffle back but kept a foot apart to maintain balance. She was slowly being led to their bed but her mate's need was pervasive, Anjali's desire felt almost palpable to the hunter. As if every fiber of Cearia's being was burning with want that could only be quenched by the woman that just removed the impudent linen keeping Anjali from her prize. The air did nothing to cool the huntress' nude body, only heightening her arousal and was irritated that Anajli's thin wraps denied them full skin on skin.

She had never felt such physical need from another clan member, nor did she believe it would ever happen. Her lineage was strong but her deficiency made Cearia undesirable for a mate, thus the wilds became her home - every deadly creature and plant more hospitable than the clan that raised her. Sure Cearia wanted to prove her worth and seek out approval because of her limitations, hoping that honor could be granted in some way, but this was a different need. Since taking their vows before the clan in the gods presence and joining physically, the pull to her mate had grown stronger. Before the bonding ceremony, Cearia enjoyed being close with a tentative curiosity, snuggling under the furs and going no further then heated kisses that left swollen lips and quite often, bruises along Cearia's neck.

The juxtaposition of what Cearia desired and what she was deserving was the constant war that Anjali felt within her, even now when the desire that flowed between them was evenly matched. Unlike the status that awaited them outside this room that shackled Cearia's mindset.

She whined into the kiss and suddenly pressed against Anajli, overpowered by the surge of want that drew them together. The kiss ending took Cearia by surprise and she leaned forward in an attempt to recapture Anjali's lips, but her mate was already encouraging her to sit. Her body rejuvenated from plentiful rest felt all of a sudden weak, knees buckling as she sat atop the furs and locked gazes with Anjali hovering over her.

Her hands shook with anticipation as they reached up and untucked the bindings covering Anjali's chest, feeling her throat tighten as it did on the day of their bonding. As the bindings unraveled and fell around the clan mother's feet, Cearia barely found the ability to voice her concern over Anjali's injury, even if both of them already knew the answer she had to at least try.

"Your arm ..." She nuzzled her face against the warm skin of Anjali's abdomen, noting that she enjoyed how they both smelled of fresh soap and herbs, before loosening the bindings around her hips.

[Anjali Raskor]

Cearia's response to her urgent desire only made Anjali more eager. She rejoiced in her wife's matching heat for her. She grinned into their kiss as she had discarded the pesky garment that had been in her way. Granted, she was still wearing her wraps, which proved a last obstacle for the spouses to enjoy skin to skin contact, but the Beast Warden had no doubt it would be resolved in due time.

They had few occasions to indulge in marital intimacy, and Anjali was set on making the best of the allowed time, since her wound had borrowed it from her wife already, the huntress having agreed to stay for a couple of days. It would be a shame, if not actual dishonor, not to ravish her beloved.

She had enjoyed every moment they had spent in the privacy of their quarters after their wedding, elated to discover Cearia and embrace the sexual layer of their bond; but now felt different. There was something about her wife's responses, and her initiative to fight until the wraps hiding the Clan Mother's upper body fell to the ground, that attracted her even more.

Deep in the back of her mind, she knew the conflict still crushing her chiorikem's soul; but she chose to surrender to their shared passion for the time being.

When Cearia inquired about her injured arm, Anjali stroke her hair as the huntress rested her face against her exposed abdomen.

"Anha tikh tikh davra, anna athfiezar," she replied in a purr.

With a smile and a lustful look in her eyes, she knelt before her wife, intent on keeping her word.

***

Anjali rested her head on her beloved's shoulder, her bandaged arm carefully resting over Cearia, now that they were resting. The Clan Mother mused that she could use another bath, this time with the huntress, instead of throwing soaps in the middle of an argument.

For now though, she was happy enjoying the quiet that followed their passionate lovemaking. The furs and covers kept them comfortable, and so far Iss-Ka had carefully stay far enough not to disturb them.

"Dan anni asshekh," she murmured, smiling contently.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia gazed up at the stone ceiling, her mind in a state of rare quiet that allowed the hunter to enjoy the moment of Anjali pressed against her side with a tight hold. The arm draped along her mate's back bent at the elbow to allow a firm grip against the curve of Anjali's side while Cearia's other hand remained gentle, fingers brushing against her lover's to avoid disturbing the injured arm by accident. Anjali had kept her promised that her wound would not interfere during sex and not once did a whimper or cry escape her lips from pain ...

Part of her wished they could just remain like this, unencumbered by doubts or duty. It's a foolish thought for an unattainable solution as they were Clan Mother and hunter first to the Undead Fires and that wouldn't change on this upcoming excursion. Cearia was dubious that traveling together would help, but it wouldn't hurt either. They had connected out in the wilds and bonded while cleaning fish after all.

With a sigh, she lowered her head to nuzzle into her mate's hair, a smile tugging at Cearia's lips at Anjali's endearment. "Ai niron .."

The words were uttered in a quiet breath that gently tussled blonde hair, still too afraid of to speak such things about Anjali, about the Clan Mother, with conviction. The woman in her arms was as much her strength as she was weakness. Anjali was her loved one but Cearia still felt awful that she couldn't match her haiplana's love for her when it was simply the feeling of unworthiness that overshadowed what was there all along. Cearia was too blind to notice it.

Her thoughts ended there when her stomach violently growled, long past patient for food. Without stepping outside, and with no clan members brave enough to disturb the couple since awakening, it was difficult for Cearia to know how long they had been sleeping. If she had to guess by how their quarters were tided and her internal rhythm, it was close to a day which meant it was near dusk. It was good they passionately reconnected physically but over a day without food and water would do them no good. Their bodies needed nourishment, Anjali especially to aid with healing.

"We should eat. And drink," she murmured into Anjali's hair before placing a kiss there.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was aware that terms of endearment came more naturally to her than to her beloved at the time. It didn't bother her, because she saw and embraced the tokens of affection, of love she dared say, from her wife. Even when uncertainty and anguish plagued the huntress, she saw through the suffocating web to find the gems that remained, the fire that burned deep between them, as the last while had proved, leaving them languidly enjoying each other's nearness.

When she suddenly heard the muffled words into her hair, she smiled warmly, surprised and touched by Cearia's words. It warmed her heart and she was proud of her wife for growing more comfortable in their relationship. As slow as the process was, truth was that events had unfolded quicker than they would have likely had prior to the cataclysm, when time was a luxury that they were only now relearning to live with. While many didn't speak of it, there was an urgency and a willingness to live to the fullest, strengthening the clan and its members, that came from what they had all survived. Maybe the next generation or the one after wouldn't experience this, but the day hadn't come yet.

The Beast Warden knew how much their bond was both a source of comfort and hardship for Cearia; but she still had faith things would improve at some point. She would never forsake her mate, no matter what they had to go through together. Her choice, blessed by the gods, and her oath were forever, in this life and the beyond.

When Cearia's stomach suddenly growled quite loudly, she burst in laughter, which turned into a fit of wolfish giggles. She was barely catching her breathe, when her own stomach growled in unison.

She smiled to her wife, as she turned her face to look at her, still careful with her arm.

"Food sounds like a very good idea."

She reluctantly moved away from her beloved and got to her feet to get dressed. While she had stubbornly got ready by herself earlier that day, she accepted her wife's assistance when offered, so they would both be able to get to their meal quicker.

She gave a quick but tender kiss to Cearia as they left their quarters. Right behind the curtains was Iss-Ka, giving them an amused look.

"Eavesdropper," Anjali teased the Voritor who headbutted her mistress's leg with care, aware of the injured arm, and then the huntress, less carefully.

"Do you wish to see the baby fliers first, or would you rather do that after we eat?"

Iss-Ka gave an expectant look at Cearia.

[Cearia Tserta]

Anjali's laughter took her by surprise, but it was one of the most beautiful things that Cearia had ever heard, surpassing the drums and strings of festival music that filled the lands of the Red Hills during harvest time. It mattered little it was a growling stomach that created it! All she heard was pure joy in response to a simple moment shared. She couldn't help smiling so wide that her cheeks hurt.

She finally joined in with a throaty chuckle as her mate's stomach joined with protest and with Anjali confirming they should eat, Cearia shifted to sit to aid the ease in which her niron stood. She stole a moment to admire her mate before joining her to dress, opting for simple clothing over her bindings - boots, pants and a thick sweater to keep the cavern chill away - and was delighted that Anjali allowed her to assist with dressing. She supported the injured arm when needed, even offering a quick kiss against a shoulder or Anjali's neck before it became hidden. She even took the time to braid the Clan Mother's hair in the way she preferred as a small token of Cearia's devotion towards her mate.

The kiss signaled the end of their private time together and Cearia steeled herself for what the day would bring. She only hoped that her mind could remained focused on what was shared here instead of the poison that clouded her mind and heart with conflict. Which is why Cearia was thankful Iss-Ka was the first to great them. The voritor always brought a smile to her face and today was no different. Unlike the first time Iss-Ka headbutted her with affection, Cearia braced herself for the strong welcome before crouching beside her.

"Our stomachs can wait a few moments more." She reached out and stroked along Iss-Ka face, feeling the strength of the lizard's jaw as her hand moved lower.

She pulled her hand away as she stood, giving Iss-Ka a pensive nod. "Let's go check on the yongons ..."

Without another word, Iss-Ka led the way with Cearia following closely behind. Even before she could see the baby fliers, the squawks and chirps echoed loudly throughout the cave. The pang of guilt hit her then, knowing she had to apologize for her behavior when she ignored them.

"You three grew a little while I was away," she said with a smile when there was enough torchlight to see them.

The baby blue flier whacked its sibling with the back of its wing to get noticed. Cearia tsked. "That's not very nice."

She went to her knees to help the flier that was knocked over, giving it a little chin scratch while addressing baby blue. "These are your siblings. You treat them kindly. Though ... I am sorry for not doing so when I returned."

Cearia lowered her head to the trio. "Beja hon daun Ai fiya."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was grateful for Cearia's help, and her wife's easiness around her as they were still in the privacy of their chamber, concealed away from the rest of the Clan. That was why she was willing to take that trip with her beloved into the wilderness. Even if the trip in itself did not bring immediate change, building up these moments they shared, during which the war raging in her mate's heart diminished or halted, would add to the memories they both carried during their days andweeks apart. She had faith that her chiorikem cherished such borrowed times as she did.

She bowed her head when Cearia chose to go see the fliers first. It was a sound choice; but it was one that belonged to her wife.

She watched with fondness as Iss-Ka expressed sheer joy at the huntress's attention. Their growing bond was heart-warming, and also made them as a trio stronger when they traveled together or needed Iss-Ka to help or even play messenger. Even though Iss-Ka was still wary of Vitti, the Clan Mother was glad that the Voritor liked and cared for the baby fliers.

As the couple followed Iss-Ka to where the growing reptilian creatures were, Anjali heard them way before she saw them. They knew Iss-Ka was bringing company this time.

Iss-Ka poked the Clan Mother's thigh to ask her mistress to crouch, so she could look and sniff - mildly disgusted - at her bandaged arm, while Cearia interacted with the fliers, including reprimanding her bonded blue one. Of course, her wife would still deny that, but Anjali - or the other Beast Wardens - had understood what had happened quickly enough.

"I'll be fine, Iss-Ka," she said to the Voritor, who canted her head to the side, still skeptical and a little worried.

"Cearia and I will go eat, then we'll visit Sister Ashia."

Anjali stood up and her lizard gently wrapped her tail around one of her legs, in a possessive and protective gesture.

[Cearia Tserta]

The two grey siblings nuzzled her fingers and Cearia took that as forgiveness. She felt they were far too kind with acceptance but would not protest it as the hunter took her time showering them with affections. She did spare a quick glance at Anjali and Iss-Ka as she eavesdropped, hoping that it was not placating words that her mate spoke of and that Ashia would agree that the arm would be saved.

Considering their activities during the last couple of hours, Cearia was hopeful. Her mind quickly strayed to their lovemaking, bringing a blush across her cheeks that matched the arousal that tugged her lower belly. She unconsciously swallowed before being startled back into the present as talons dug through the stitching of her sweater, scraping skin.

"Chit're Yu duin?" The baby blue flier had been ignored long enough and it was climbing up its chosen's arm to be noticed! "Hey!"

She winced, knowing the talons broke skin and probably drew blood. She plucked the flier off her arm and settled it in the palm of her hand. "I was getting to you," she scolded, eyes narrowing.

Baby blue's beak extended fully and chirped excessively, giving Cearia an earful. The hunter merely knelt there, taking it all in with a patient, pleading look. "Ai laik fiya. I wasn't ignoring you, but you can't be rude to your siblings. You will be, well ... you all are being trained with the Beast Wardens and you all need to work together in order to survive. To be good scouts and mounts with the wardens you bond with."

The flier squawked and flapped it wings, practically stomping in her hand that drew a confused look from the hunter. "I ... don't understand. Fiya, yongon." She smiled sadly. "And I'm also sorry that this was only a quick visit. But I'll see you later. Promise."

Bulbous black eyes blinked and the flier started to hop around in protest as Cearia set it back down with its siblings. "Me and the Clan Mother need food. Then we need to see the healer, alright?"

If a baby flier could curse in squeaks and chirps, Cearia was certain a long list of expletives were being directed at her.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali and Iss-Ka enjoyed their quiet watch over Cearia and the baby fliers. It was a sight to behold for both of them. The blonde witch couldn't help thinking that her wife's behavior with the little monsters would make her a wonderful mother. While it wouldn't be immediate, she was looking forward to build a family with the huntress.

The Clan Mother had discussed with the other Beast Wardens about the two grey ones eventually bonding with riders. Kadia had already been claimed by one of them, so there was only one flier left.

They had inquired whether Anjali should try to bond with one, especially given that her mate had been chosen by the blue one. Anjali was reluctant though, because as much as she hoped to bond with a sky-conqueror down the line, she wanted to give opportunities to other members of the Undead Fires. Having bonded with other creatures in the past, she knew how to read the signs, and had experienced none of them with the final grey. She had faith the youth would find an appropriate rider.

Anjali knew that Cearia wasn't thinking of herself as a potential Beast Warden; but seeing the flier climb up her beloved's arm, she thought that asking Sister Nerolia for protective gloves and bracers might be a good idea. She needed new ones herself.

It also reminded her of how the huntress had sacrificed her dear coat the previous day, and she offered a suggestion.

"After we eat and see Sister Ashia, we should go see Sister Nerolia, our leather worker. I didn't get to properly introduce you, and you need a new coat."

She had told Cearia that they had been raised together, but she wanted to have them properly meet. She was still shocked and grateful for the gods' blessings of having helped with Nerolia's survival and finding her way to the Undead Fires a few weeks before.

She laughed at the long list of flier expletives that got squawked and snapped at her mate as they were about to leave. Iss-Ka joined in a reptilian cackled, visibly amused, given how she lightly batted the ground with the tip of her tail.

[Cearia Tserta]

The baby blue flier continued to give Cearia a piece of its mind and no amount of head scratches and apologies were going to placate it! The squawks bordered on shrills as the huntress rejoined her mate and Iss-Ka.

"Fiya, Clan Mother," began Cearia, though not as stiffly as the day prior. There were other members milling about and directed curious gazes towards the ruckus the fliers were causing, which then brought attention to Anjali and Cearia with grateful looks that the pair were awake. She hoped her mate thought this a fair compromise as her voice was strong and posture was not submissive. Cearia's spirits appeared high for the time being. "The fliers are quite vocal. Probably disturbing quite a few people within in earshot." She glanced around with some amusement as more of their people came out of their quarters, before eyes briefly falling on the blue flier. "Which appears to be everyone."

With a thin smile, she returned her attention to Anjali. "I'd be honored to meet Sister Nerolia."

She was quite excited that another member of Lavender Rift Clan had survived and was a childhood friend of her mate's. This was a blessing from the gods and Cearia was genuinely happy for Anjali, even if it appeared that no others of the Red Hills had survived. The hunter had long made peace with the notion that she was the last of her people and with more time, she would understand that was for the best given the severity of their beliefs about non-magick users.

For a moment Cearia hesitated but she decided to slowly raise her arm as invitation. "But we need to go now. You need to eat and build your strength back up, Clan Mother."

[Anjali Raskor]

The young flier was definitely a baby, even though the trio had been growing a lot, and would eventually be allowed outside more often. That was another reason they needed to be bonded sooner than later. Kadia had already been spending more time with one of the greys, so she grew accustomed to the beast warden.

When her beloved apologized for the loud annoyance of the reptilian youth, Anjali quirked a brow at being addressed by her title; but she didn't comment on it. Cearia had been doing well enough in private, and she knew how her wife disliked being the center of attention. Others had heard the blue vocalist quite well, so she didn't want to add any more embarrassment to her wife's already existing one.

"The brighter grey always does that to Kadia when she leaves."

That was her indirect way to say once again what others knew: that the baby blue had chosen Cearia, even when the huntress was so terribly stubborn about not being worthy and all that assorted anguish that placated her.

She smiled at her wife's words about Nerolia. She was looking forward to introduce her mate to her childhood friend. And Cearia needed a new coat, especially with how often she traveled away for her hunts.

When the huntress offered her arm, she laced her own with it, giving a gentle squeeze.

The liberating argument followed by the delightful sex session had put Anjali in a good mood, and she let the "Clan Mother" fly for now, her stomach growling once again.

"I agree. Let's go eat."

[Cearia Tserta]

As Anjali found patience in accepting Cearia's use of her title in public, Cearia was going to politely ignore the comment about Kadia and the grey flier. The insinuation was as bright as the midday sun, but the truth was not accepted.

The Great Sister was just a proud hunter that was happy to provide for her clan with food and supplies, training promising clan members that showed potential. She accepted her place in this life and nothing would sway her beliefs. Anjali would need to accept that her houmon was not a Beast Warden, at least that is what Cearia kept telling herself. It was difficult to deny that the blue flier was exceptionally vocal towards her but to even entertain the thought was dangerous for the hunter. She had come so far and gained so much from her meager beginnings that she dare not hope for more.

She half smiled knowingly after hearing her mate's stomach complain. There would be no more delays.

They left the confines of the caves and were greeted by fresh and crisp air that signaled an ending day. Cearia was quite pleased with herself in calculating the time in which they woke, but was conflicted with the way in which she presented herself. Not with the clothes she wore, but with the woman she escorted by the arm. The hug during their union was the only public display of affection that she offered and did so to honor her haiplana. Walking through the settlement with arms linked felt more intimate to the hunter. She was willingly accepting her place at the Clan Mother's side in an open setting, even if the action was driven by shame for the distress she caused Anjali. This would not be the norm for Cearia.

The clan was winding down after a long day as they passed through - she could hear verne baying in the distance until a rancor's roar drowned it out. It brought a smile to her lips, happy to hear the fruits of their labors - beasts to strengthen the clan as protectors and food. And she would continue to find more, make sure the verne were bred properly, train and maintain the skills of her hunters to ensure that when the next life called, that the clan would be secured.

"Kru Nomon! Grat Sis!" An older nightwoman bowed deeply as the joined approached the hearths. Her black hair was tied back in multiple braids with specs of white peeking through. There were three large stone squares that each held a roaring fire heating pots full of food and large stone slabs were primed with meats ready for the spits. "It's good to see you awake. You must be hungry! Here!"

She waved them over to a long wooden table that was filled with fresh and dried fruits, cured meats, and bowls of stew. "Take whatever you like. Please... and oh! Brother Bastian attempts at making ale is finally a success. It's being passed around in celebration of not only your hunt, Great Sister, but finding the rancors too."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali wasn't surprised her wife ignored the remark about Kadia and the grey flier. She knew that Cearia would continue to purposefully ignore such things, even when everybody else could tell there was something between the baby blue flier and the huntress, the bonding evident to all Beast Wardens, as well as Iss-Ka. It was difficult to forget the Voritor interrupting the first moment both witches had shared in the Clan Mother's chamber, because of an upset baby blue flier.

She knew that eventually Cearia would have no other choice but to accept that the little blue had chosen her as its rider and that no one else would find merit in its eyes. She could see Iss-Ka having words too, much as the little one already had. And a two-meter long lizard that decided to whack your ass or smack you on the head because you were a moron was a whole over deal than a toddler flier's yapping.

It felt nice to leave the confines of the caves. While her birth clan had been partially living in caves too, tents and even rock and wood habitat was a normal construction for her. She knew they still had much to do to see the Clan thrive more, but she was looking forward to the day they could rebuild in a more permanent way. At least they were on their way with talents having eventually flocked to them with several survivors who provided new skill sets.

At least, she was grateful that regardless of what motivated it, Cearia hadn't freed her arm from hers. It was a little thing; but the Clan Mother found solace in it, that there was progress possible.

Given what daylight remained it was obvious that it was high time they ate. She didn't feel bad for the delay though, because it had been quite enjoyable. Hearing all the sounds of the outdoors made her happy as well, and she couldn't help chuckling when one of the young rancors roared loudly. She would have to check on the two they had brought back the previous day but not right now.

Anjali smiled to the older nightsister, appreciating how everyone helped so the tribe would only grow stronger.

"Greeting, Sister Lineil. Whatever you are currently preparing sounds delicious."

She took place at the large wooden table, one of the first works Sister Ageyra had made after finding the Clan. The woodworker and potter had been very useful for furniture and helping with the cooking supplies.

"Ale, you say? It has been many moons since I had any."

She briefly rested her good hand on her wife's back, gently rubbing it for a moment. Then her stomach growled again, making it clear that food was a priority, and the Clan Mother began selecting meats and fruits for starters.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia closed her eyes at the brief touch bestowed upon her. The affection puzzled her because she couldn't discern any reason for it. Escorting the Clan Mother to the hearths by the arm was a gesture with purpose. The gentle caress of her back was a frivolous, and unnecessary, display. She was grateful when the hand was removed to retrieve food, but at the same time felt strongly at the loss of contact. But why would her response be so intense towards the Clan Mother's touch? It was just a feeling that unnerved the hunter and the closest word she could come up with was empty.

She reached for food as Sister Lineil expanded on the ale situation.

"Many of us hadn't had some even longer!" she jested. "Brother Bastian has been playing with grains and fruits for a bit now. Many times needing to see Sister Ashia after making himself ill sampling his blends. Idiot, stubborn, man."

Though the words were harsh, the tone was kind. "But the gods kept him alive and gave us ale."

Lineil's eyes twinkled down at the Clan Mother as she served both her and Cearia a bowl of stew. "Would you care to have some? Be my pleasure to track down a couple mugfuls, Clan Mother."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali's attention was more on the discussion and especially the food, so she was didn't realize how puzzling her brief touch was to her beloved. She would have likely been puzzled all over again, for it was fairly innocent affection. As much as her birth clan had been harsh to force their youth to be ready to tackle anything and hone their talents to the most of their capabilities, the Lavender Rift had also supported living life to the fullest and being bold and generous with those you loved and cared for.

She laughed at the mention of Sister Ashia having to deal with Brother Bastian getting in trouble.

"That sounds like a man for sure. Good thing he's survived though, for the Clan can use his talents, and not only for ale."

She took a bite of meat before nodding to Lineil as the older Sister placed bowls of stew before the wives.

"I won't say no to ale," she replied with very little hesitation. She was eager to taste how it went.

"It seems only appropriate to celebrate both another great hunt as well as two new Rancor youths."

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia listened to the conversation as she ravenously scooped spoonful after spoonful of stew into her mouth. She knew of Brother Bastian as he was the clan's blacksmith and thought it was honorable that he sampled the ales to make sure no one else got sick. It was always so strange how varying different points of view were in the clan. She didn't voice her dissidence as it would look unfavorably before the Clan Mother.

"I'm glad you agree, Clan Mother!" Lineil grinned and whistled for a nightboy to come over.

Lantess trodded over, his face full of soot from keeping the fires going. He bowed deeply once he realized who was sitting at the table. "Hello Clan Mother and Great Sister!"

He was very excited to see them, especially the hunter. Like most of the children, he was an orphan and helped around the clan doing various and much needed chores. He rubbed his eyes and looked expectantly to the other nightsister. "What can I do for you, Sister Lineil?"

"Several pitchers of ale are being passed about the clan. Find a full one for Sister Cearia and Mother Anjali. If you can't find one, get one from Bastian. He's sure to have more that he's hiding."

Lantess chuckled as he leaned forward with conspiracy. "I could always just borrow what he's hiding for our honored guests, Sister." He grinned smugly with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I'm much faster than him! Even more now since he's probably drunk."

She laughed and ruffled his hair. "Just go find a pitcher for starters, hm?"

He frowned, excitement deflated. "Oh all right." He shuffled off before breaking into a run to find some ale.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was gladly diving into the food. She hadn't realized how much she needed to eat until she started to. It wasn't the first time it happened, given how stubborn and dedicated she could be. Replenishing her strength after the long day and to ensure that she was in the best condition possible for her arm to heal was important.

She smirked at the exchange between Lineil and Lantess. The boy was a brat as many kids his age were, but at least he had enough manners not to have her annoyed with him. What he said about Brother Bastian keeping a hidden stash brought memories back and she gave an amused look at her beloved.

"Sister Nerolia and I did sneak into the hidden stash of ale when we were about twelve. We got into a lot of trouble when we didn't show up the next day for our chores. And for the first time since in years, I had to clean verne's enclosure besides my duties as Beast Warden apprentice."

And that ale was good, so she was very curious to see what Brother Bastian had made.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia looked up at her wife with surprise. "Just ... how much ale did you two get into?"

There was a lot she didn't know about her wife, but she was starting to get the picture that Anjali was a grown up version of the little terrors that ran around the encampment. What saddened her with this knowledge is a wonder, a specific thought that if the time they shared together wasn't filled with fights over her self-worth, perhaps Cearia would have known this already. their union was swift, but the time they had together should be learning about each other, not arguing. And now her thoughts went back even further when she accepted Anjali's wish to become mates.

She agreed quickly, wanting that honor. She respected the Clan Mother greatly, enjoyed their talks, and had been gifted the opportunity to witness a sacred ritual. Anjali's heart yearned for her during their separation, as Cearia was called constantly called away from camp for hunting parties and expedition, searching the wilds for resources. The gods had even offered a beautiful stone in the aftermath of so much death and upon its discovery, Cearia knew she had to give to to Anjali. There was no hesitation with that decision. They were bound by the moment Cearia took her vows to be part of the clan and when she agreed to Anjali's help cleaning the haul of fish.

A mate was more than just physical desire. It was a joining of souls, hearts beating together as one, trust built between the two chosen as confidants. True partners. Cearia's body was fully willing. Everything inside her fought tooth and nail against fully embracing her pledge to Anjali. Her eyes fell to her niron's wounded arm and frowned as a dangerous thought came to fruition.

Would Cearia's self doubts manifest so profoundly that instead of soap being thrown at her, would their fights become vicious? So vicious that they would hurt one another?

Lineil's laughter shook her, not expecting such a lively response and returned to finishing up her stew before Anjali could respond.

"Be careful sharing these stories, Clan Mother." Lineil was playful with the warning. "You'll be giving the children ideas."

"Good thing their ears are occupied with the celebration." Cearia's voice held a bit of a growl that her stomach now lacked. "And duty."

Fresh bowls of stew were brought before Anjali and Cearia, Lineil's motherly instincts taking over. She didn't know what was shifted so fiercely that plagued the hunter's soul, but she wouldn't judge a weary heart. Perhaps the food would be good for the soul. Or the ale to release some stress. Cearia never partaken in clan celebrations, always a ghost upon returning to the settlement. The older sister was happy to change that.

"Sister Lineil!" Lantess came running back with two pitchers in hand, both covered. He wouldn't dare lose a drop of the Clan Mother's and Great Sister's ale. "Look!"

"Good boy. Though ..." Her eyes probed his very excited ones. "How did you get this so fast? You weren't gone long."

He hefted the wooden pitchers onto the table, making the bowls and plates rattle. Cearia lifted her arms up to avoid broth splashing while Lantess didn't bat an eye with his answer. "I pinched them."

"You what?!" Lineil was mortified. "There's no reason to do that! There's enough about."

"I didn't want them waiting long!" he implored, pointing at Anjali and Cearia. "So I took it quick before anyone noticed. And now they've got a pitcher each!" He flashed a brilliant smile, feeling proud.

"Aie, Lantess!"

"I was gonna ask. Honest! But I didn't want to interrupt the games. Even I'm not stupid enough to be polite when daggers are being tossed around! And with drink in them? I'd be filleted!" He looked away from Lineil's disapproving eyes and hoped that his leader agreed. "You understand tho. Right, Nomon Anjali?"

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali quirked an amused brow at her wife.

"Well, we didn't have a high ale resistance back then, but we drank enough..."

She chuckled and realized that her revelry antics might appear weird to her beloved, for they had traded few stories about their pasts, in the short amount of time they had known each other and been married. She hoped that they would have the opportunity to discover more about each other's history.

While the Clan Mother had been raised harshly because it was how Dathomir molded its children, she nevertheless had many good memories, including some on the wilder side, and which didn't involve deadly Rancors.

She chuckled at Lineil's remark about the youth getting ideas.

"Oh, I bet they can come up with that on their own," she teased back.

While the young ones had to be trained and tamed to a degree, having them push boundaries to learn them was a good way that lessons would stay with them.

"The food is delicious, Sister Lineil," she complimented the older witch.

"Good, you need to eat, Clan Mother," she replied without hesitation.

Then, she bowed her head, though there was still a motherly spark in her eyes as she continued.

"If I may say as such."

Anjali nodded, knowing that the other woman had promptly claimed the hearths and cooking duties as the new Clan had come together.

"You may, Sister."

Lineil beamed and then asked Cearia if she wanted anything else proceeded to continue bringing more food to the table.

Anjali gave a look at her beloved, happy to see her eat as well. She had done a lot in the past while, with her successful hunt, and the physical exertion the run to the enclave and then the tremendous help she had provided with capturing the Rancor orphans.

She looked at Lantess return very quickly. She stared at him as he recounted how he got the ale so fast. She smirked at what he said about the games that involved throwing knives.

"What makes you think you'll avoid being used as target practice when they realize you pinched those?"

The boy swallowed with difficulty and looked at the Clan Mother with disbelief.

"Breathe, boy," she added with a smirk.

"You'll help Sister Lineil with all help she requires until the next moon to make up for that stealing, understood?"

Lantess let a long breathe out and nodded.

"Thank you, Nomon Anjali!"

The Clan Mother then waved him away.

"Ajjin elat rhellaya, rakh."

[Cearia Tserta]

Lantess flashed a grateful smile, pausing for a brief thoughtful look towards Cearia, and ran off to help the older sister fill bowls and distribute them among the rest of the clan. The older woman ruffled his hair once again before shooing him off towards the clan members that he stole from. It was only proper that he feed them first.

Cearia had kept quiet during the exchanges because she agreed that the Clan Mother needed to eat and the boy was given a fair punishment. Anjali was their leader and it was her right to accept Lineil's considerate observation and scare the boy half to death.

"You know the pitcher's not gonna drink itself, Sister Cearia." Lineil had returned with a third bowl for the hunter, smirking at how she caught Cearia taking off the lid and hesitantly sniffing its contents. "I dare say if you did happen to drink it all, you could join in the games."

The only response Lineil got from the hunter was a brow arching upwards, unconvinced.

"Just a thought." She chuckled and picked up the empty bowls, eyes twinkling. "It is a celebration. You can have a little fun now and then Great Sister."

With a respectful nod, she departed to set aside the dirty bowls and continue prepping. Cearia briefly watched her go before looking into the pale, yellow liquid, sniffing it once more. There was a faint aroma of peach and the bubbles that collected on the surface tickled her nose, but she made no move to drink it yet.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali had happily reached for the pitcher with her good arm. That was another good thing from her upbringing. All Lavender Rift kids were forced to train with both arms equally, regarding of their birth dominant ones. They were to be resilient and to be as effective as possible, and it was part of the process.

She smelled the aroma, musing over it. It was different from the ale from her memories; but everything could change and had changed. While nothing last forever, they were here and alive. They were strong and brave, making a new life that honored the departed as well as the gods who had blessed them with more years.

The Clan Mother looked at her beloved, smiling fondly at the exchange with Sister Lineil. The way Cearia seemed suspicious of the ale was adorable, a stark contrast from her fierce hunter her mate was. It was in those little things as well as the great victories that made life so precious and worth living to its fullest.

Anjali raised the pitcher to her wife.

"Najahat, anna athfiezar."

Then she stood up, pitcher still in hand. When she spoke, her loud voice and unique presence commanded attention, bringing the celebration to a pause.

"Kshi khalasar! Najahat," she roared.

Clamors and applause followed within seconds, right before Anjali took a long gulp of ale.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia nodded, raising the pitcher with respect. "Gon yumi, Ai ho..."

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion to the words that almost left her lips, thankful that Anjali was distracted with standing and addressing the clan. The smile that came was natural, feeling her mate's words stir not only respect, but deep fondness for the Clan Mother. The aura of power and command, but deep love, Anjali had for the clan shushed everyone and all eyes were on her haiplana.

She no longer paid any mind to words that she were unable to feel yet.

Cearia stood as Anjali drank, "Gon kru! Gon viktere!" Then joined in as the clan began to down their drinks, gulping a few swallows to honor her mate's toast.

She had never drank any form of alcohol before and found the liquid strange tasting. It was initially bitter but the sweet taste of peaches broke through against her tongue. The ale also made her throat slightly burn as she swallowed, almost like hot water that singed your flesh, but not nearly as painful. She lowered the pitcher and observed it, noting she drank a quarter of it after gauging what was left when jostling the pitcher seeing the liquid slosh around.

Eyes ever so innocent and bewildered, Cearia looked to her mate. "I don't understand the appeal of the drink."

[Anjali Raskor]

The Clan had come a long way. There were times where everything still felt as if it could end the way it had begun, through tears and blood; but the Clan Mother had faith in the gods. She knew that they would make it through. The different clans that had united still found challenges in weaving a new tapestry of life; but they were slowly getting there.

Their numbers had been growing; but Anjali still believed there were more somewhere. Dathomir was a big planet, and there had been numerous clans, as well as outsiders for many generations. She simply couldn't believe that they were the last ones. As much as she marveled at the gods; she didn't think they were the last handful they had blessed. That was what motivated her to still send patrols, farther and farther, in order to ensure that any wandering soul could be given the opportunity to join, should they prove their worth and pledge loyalty.

She smiled to her wife as she saw her drink some of the ale at last, in the midst of the clamor and revelry unfolding. She sat back down next to her beloved and waited for the verdict.

Truthfully, she found her wife adorable in her facial expression and overall reaction. It gave a very youthful look. The way she spoke deadpan about how she didn't get why people enjoyed ale made her even more in love with the huntress if possible.

"It's not the best ale I've had; but I expect Brother Bastian to improve."

Without further ado, she drank another quarter from the pitcher.

[Cearia Tserta]

Her lower lip protruded as eyes fell back to the liquid that was basic in the Clan Mother's eyes. Cearia had no comparison so she would take Anjali at her word and sat back down.

"What makes it better?" she asked, tentatively poking at the froth and brought that finger up, gently rubbing the white foam against her thumb. That tickled just as much as when it got her nose.

She sucked finger and thumb clean before drinking again. The peach flavor came through more readily, but the bitter aftertaste was overshadowing what was the better tasting part of this drink. After her second fill was done, she brought the pitcher down, contents more than halfway gone, she looked around as the people reveled. It reminded her when she first returned back with the verne - the successful hunt seen as a blessing from the gods. That night there was also a celebration - laughter and dancing - songs sang with gratitude to the gods - and many brothers and sisters enjoying one another under furs.

The energy felt the same. But there was a subtle buzz in the air that was a little more potent.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali's senses were still taking in the celebrating brothers and sisters in the area, the shouts, the laughter, the ebb and flow of desire that accompanied such festivities. Yet her focus was devoted to her mate, savoring the little moments, a random albeit adorable first time for the huntress.

"Some like it really fruity; but I do not. It is a bit bitter. I'd say that less fruit and different grains should make it quite great."

The Clan Mother then downed the rest of her pitcher and slammed it down atop the table, grinning.

"I've never brewed ale; but I drink it well," she teased.

She slightly leaned forward, nodding towards the pitcher.

"Ei ki me, zheana."

She was starting to feel how the ale was a tad more potent than she had first thought, which made her purr. She felt the warm feeling coursing through her veins. She had missed that sensation; and it definitely made her all the more appreciative of her chiorikem, as the hand grazing against Cearia's knee betrayed.

[Cearia Tserta]

"Yes it is," she agreed about the ale being so bitter. What changes Bastian has to make with the grains was lost on Cearia and she wondered if her mate had actually once brewed it herself.

The unspoken question was answered, to which the hunter nodded. "Yes you do. I haven't even finished mine."

She tipped the pitcher towards her, wondering if she could finish the quarter or so left of Bastian's brew when a hand grazed her knee. The sensation made her head shift to Anjali with surprise that even if concealed, such an intimate touch was received outside the confines of their quarters. What also confused the hunter was how her head felt heavy, as if her peripherals were dulled, causing tunnel vision.

Blinking several times to stave off the little stars that appeared, they widened as Cearia fought a sensation she never felt before. Her body sagged against the table as muscles loosened, her mind trying to work through what was happening but found it more fun to force the ale to slosh around in the pitcher.

The hunter was definitely tipsy.

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali had never really associated the concept of adorable with her wife, even with the deep affection she had for her beloved. But Cearia experiencing alcohol for the first time was exactly that. She was happy to witness that.

It was nevertheless blending with the appetites the ale raised within the Clan Mother, especially with the current atmosphere and others becoming more lustful and playful among the gathered brothers and sisters.

She caught sight of the huntress's surprise as the still fairly innocent gesture. Anjali wasn't shy by nature and since they were at busy festivities, a little nuzzling and petting remained fairly chaste compared to others.

She chuckled at her wife's reaction.

The blonde scooted closer to Cearia, and kissed her covered shoulder all the way to her neck, while her hand slowly trailed up. The caress was light but confident.

She was tempted to just steal the rest of her mate's ale; but all in good time.

"Yer hash ma nakhaan firikhnharen," she murmured into the huntress's ear, before her lips trailed down her wife's jawline.

"Anha zin she vorsa ha yer," she mumbled.

[Cearia Tserta]

She was fraught with indecision as the pale liquid slapped against the sides of the wooden pitcher, debating to finish it or not. The Clan Mother had so shouldn't she? The celebration was partly due to her efforts. Lineil even encouraged having fun. Sitting here with a full belly and knowing her mate was enjoying herself was fun enough for Cearia. It was more than she usually did, which was hide, letting the people find joy in the blessings that the gods allowed the hunters and beast wardens to bring back to the clan.

The wood creaked as Anjali scooted closer and it took the hunter by surprise that her mate showered affection so plainly. Though that affection was becoming bold, though not nearly as some of the brothers and sisters were enjoying themselves by the sounds that carried on the wind. This was tame in comparison, but her niron's hand confidently exploring caused a blush to bloom across her cheeks.

Or was it the ale? Both? Cearia knew alcohol could cloud judgement and make it easier to act on thoughts, but right now she couldn't think clearly at all with Anjali's lips on her skin. The spoken words made her smile, invoking the day she gifted the Clan Mother the gem she found. It was a broad smile full of joy that Lineil couldn't help noting as she chopped vegetables for more stew. She had never seen the huntress so happy, not even during her joining to Mother Anjali. The hunter was proud and spoke firmly of the devotion to the Clan Mother when they bonded but it was now that Lineil saw how deeply in love Cearia was.

The gasp from the hunter made the older sister turn away and fought a grin, not wanting to be overtly rude towards the couple and focused on dinner. "Lantess! More food for the hungry!"

Cearia couldn't deny the heat her mate was stoking with murmured words as lips caressed her jaw. She stopped playing with the pitcher and closed her eyes with a sigh. "Stil ona faya gon Ai? Ba ... oso jos don seks, Anjali."

Her mate knew the ale relaxed her considerably with how easily Anjali's name passed through Cearia's lips. "Yu gaf mou?"

[Anjali Raskor]

Cearia's surprise rippled through the Force, even as Anjali's sensation both heightened and ebbed with the ale. Of course, her mate would be baffled by such a public display of affection. Although the Clan Mother normally kept it minimal as not to bother her beloved; the usual separation due to their respective duties, had made her more eager to make the best of it, and be her natural bold self. Heck, that was still rather tame given how fierce she could be when lust burned within her as it did for her wife.

The Huntress wasn't just beautiful; but strong, resilient, intelligent, and caring. This multitude of traits and abilities had drawn Anjali to her and she had never looked back, nor had wanted to. Even with issues to handle, Cearia remained the love of her life, and she was willing to make the best of their relationship.

Right now it included a strong desire to be intimate with her chiorikem again.

She was taking in all the festivities around them, and the nearness of her mate only made her more eager to partake.

She took her mate's gasp as an encouragement, and her hand kept trailing higher, caring little for what others might think, given that a good part of the Clan was also taking advantage of the celebration.

Her lips briefly stopped along her wife's neck as she heard her call her by name and not title, which deepened her desire for her. She was just happy to hear her name on her wife's tongue, and she raised her head so she could look at Cearia.

She smiled fondly and leaned in closer.

"Ma yer? ayyey, anna athfieza," she purred before claiming Cearia's lips.

[Cearia Tserta]

Cearia had two options in handling the clan mother, her mate. To reluctantly break the kiss and apologize, her usual response with Anjali's open affections before the clan, or enjoy the moment. Bastian's ale was making the Great Sister bolder. Speaking her mate's given name in public was just the cusp.

She accepted the kiss and tugged Anjali onto her lap, trapping her against the table with a possessive moan.

Lineil tsked when she saw the cause of bowels and plates rattling. Stew sloshed out of bowls and spilled on the table and fruit began to roll free. Lantess lunged forward and caught a bunch of berries that toppled over, managing to not spill a drop of stew with the bowl he was holding in the opposite hand. "Ha! Got it!"

He could care less what the two women were doing, feeling quite proud of his prowess right now and looked to Lineil for validation. She merely shook her head on approach. "Go on and get that food out."

He frowned and got up right, returning the berries to its bowl before sulking off, really believing that move was pretty impressive but Lineil was too distracted on saving the food.

Lineil gently clipped Cearia's shoulder with a towel. "Be mindful of the food, Great Sister! I don't care what you two do, but I won't be having you ruining dinner!"

She pulled back with surprise, cheeks burning with a mixture of emotions that the hunter wasn't accustomed to - desire and without regrets. Though she was apologetic at the food being disturbed. That was never her intent.

"I'm sorry." Cearia held Lineil's gaze and nodded firmly but her body language made no attempt to move. In fact, she leaned against Anjali's chest with a silly grin. "Didn't meant to make a mess, sister."

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was caught by surprise when her mate suddenly drew her onto her lap.

She was very much liking a tipsy Cearia.

She laced her arms around her beloved's neck without hesitation, molding herself against her wife as she was now trapped against the table.

The blonde chuckled when sister Lilneil suddenly chastised them. She should have felt bad about having the boy run to catch up the food; but she didn't. Right now she was just enjoying her bold wife's company.

She held Cearia tight as her mate made it clear she had no intention to move.

The older sister gave them another look, and the Clan mother briefly debated what to do next.

She decided to be both good to the food and continue to be hands on with her beloved. She managed to shift position, leveraging her wife's tipsiness with hungry kisses as distraction, so she could get her wife with her back onto the bench, still on her lap.

The Clan Mother's own intoxication, which had more to do with her wife than the ale, made her a little clumsy and the couple of witches were about to fall off the bench and roll onto the ground.

[Cearia Tserta]

"I'm glad you're having a some fun for a change, it's well deserved, but more fun away from the food," pleaded the older sister before returning to cook.

Amused, Cearia turned and further nuzzled against Anjali. She had every intention of behaving at the table but her mate had other ideas when arms around her tightened. She curiously looked up and any questions on the tip of her tongue were silenced with a heated kiss. This should stop. Sister Lineil asked them to be careful and being in this position is what got them scolded in the first place.

Seemingly aware of that fact, Anjali's feisty maneuvers forced Cearia's back against the bench. Limbs had difficulty in keeping balance as passions took over once again and loudly moaning with surprise, Cearia snatched the side of the table as Anjali began to topple over. Unfortunately her grip was not as strong as it usually were and slipped as they rolled off and crashed to the ground.

There was a yelp, an oof, and then a sound that never had passed through the hunter's lips - a giggle.

The momentum had rolled Cearia onto her back with Anjali atop her, ironically the position the Clan Mother wanted her mate in the first place, with arms and hair sprawled above her, giggling with squinting eyes.

"You made me fall!" she accused. "Bad form, Anjali ..."

[Anjali Raskor]

As tipsy as Anjali might be, she still had enough clarity of mind to make sure she wouldn't hurt her arm further. She was taking slightly selfish advantage of her magick to adjust herself, but she didn't feel any guilt about it. She was having fun and pleasure was a good incentive for self-preservation.

She kept herself hovering above her giggling beloved with her good hand planted by the side of Cearia's face.

She didn't choose to go for kisses and nibbles on the huntress though, too taken aback by the unexpected giggle. She was likely smiling like silly; but she didn't care. Hearing that from her wife made her so happy.

Her mate could be so adorable, but with always gorgeous enough that it fed the Clan Mother's lust in unyielding waves.

"Mel? Oh Yer zhorre vo dirge, zheana," she purred before leaning forward to kiss her wife again.

[Cearia Tserta]

Lineil briefly looked back to make sure the two troublemakers were alright and was delighted to see the Great Sister indulging ... and that the food was safe.

Cearia had little to worry due to the celebratory brew. Her mate's name easily rolled off the tongue, she wasn't too worried about Anjali's injured arm, and public displays of affection were welcomed. There wasn't any room for anxiety because she was too giddy having a good time thanks to Brother Bastian's strong ale. She playfully turned her head to nip at Anjali's hand to further emphasize her opinion on the Clan Mother's bad form, unaware how adoringly Anjali was watching her.

She shifted her eyes towards Anjali, attempting a pout but just ended up giggling again. Her mate was glowing with a radiant smile and it shouldn't be funny, but it was to her befuddled mind. There was sweetness etched in those lips but it was so over the top adorable that Cearia couldn't help laughing. Though she slowed her chuckling, her body aligning with further calm, as a familiar glint in her mate's eyes returned.

The hunter had to admit she really had no idea what Anjali was fully capable of in bed for their times together were few. What she really liked was being called beautiful. No one had told her that before and it made her chest grow warm with affection, which heightened the daze of intoxication and now longing for Anjali as she kissed her. She eagerly returned it and grabbed fistfuls of braided hair to make sure her mate did not pull away.

[Anjali Raskor]

Cearia's rare behavior was intoxicating, even more than any previous times Anjali had got to enjoy her beloved's company. Her carefree and adorableness were a sight for sore eyes and a lustful heart.

As much as the Clan Mother longed to take things further and felt no shyness in showing it, she was still aware of the uniqueness of the moment and she wanted to take everything in, to tuck every memory of it safely into her mind. She knew too well now how precious life was and she didn't want to take this time for granted.

It was a funny feeling how the ale and her mate's nearness made her yearning for intimacy; but part of her soul still appreciated Cearia's adorable and bolder behavior very seriously.

The whole world was dimming out, her focus solely on her wife laying beneath her, their bodies close.

She groaned into the kiss as she felt Cearia grabbing at some of her tresses to keep her close. She didn't need more incentive and fell flush against the huntress as she deepened the kiss.

[Cearia Tserta]

Despite the ale making the hunter playful and open with affections, part of Cearia needed to make sure that Anjali's arm was safe. Balancing that and the desire that escalated was a new problem. Earlier she had voiced concerns that would be knowingly brushed off by her mate, but that didn't stop her from being cautious as they made love. This level of need was new and quite possibly problematic if she was too rough.

The part of her brain that was focused on the injury forced Cearia to roll them over in the direction of her mate's good arm and immediately growled having Anjali below her. She never felt such free want. Inhibitions had been stripped away to reveal a passionate woman that could have been, no longer shackled with duty and honor, or the shame of being born worthless.

A bold shift of her hips and Cearia pressed a thigh between Anjali's legs to grind atop her, even tugging the back of one of her mate's legs for more friction. Everything escalated as that surge of desire pulled, moaning deeply as the kiss intensified. If she had even a small measure of self-control she would be mortified by her possessive behavior in publicly claiming her mate against the ground ...

[Anjali Raskor]

Anjali was caught by surprise as Cearia rolled them over, effectively pinning her down to the ground. That elicited even greater desire from the Clan Mother who was entranced in how bold her mate was being. It was intoxicating more than any ale to see the huntress take charge as such.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had noticed how careful her wife had nevertheless been as not to hurt her wounded arm; but she would mostly recall that later for now was all about how much she craved her spouse, who looked gloriously attractive.

Anjali yelped in surprise as Cearia promptly and delightfully pulled her closer to her thigh, creating pleasuring friction. It only made her want more.

For all she cared, her wife could ravish her in the middle of the festivities; she was a very happy witch.

With a moan of want, she grabbed her wife's head and pulled her in into a passionate kiss, this time being the one tangling her fingers into Cearia's hair to ensure that her mate didn't risk moving away.