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Opal decided that the cookhouse was boring.
Oh sure, it was important work alright. After a month of spending her time helping the older tabaxi make food for the clan, Opal was starting to realize just how difficult it was to prepare food for nearly thirty people every day with few resources. Each time she thought they had enough to feed everyone for the day, she found out she was wrong. There was always a problem; if it wasn’t the meat turning sour, it was the vegetables going bad, or not enough prey coming in from hunts, or not enough new cattle to slaughter for dinner. This was on top of constantly having to clean up the mess that came from storing food in a single hut, and having to run across the lair back-and-forth to get herbs or ask when the next hunt was in or what have you.
By the time Opal would decide to take a break, she’d usually find herself tired from all the tasks she had to do. Despite spending most of her time as a glorified messenger and maid, there was no end to the amount of work thrown at her. Such is the burden of living in a small clan with big needs.
She took comfort, at least, in knowing that she was contributing to her clan in any small way.
Today, Opal’s job was cutting sheep meat. The small herd that her clan kept on hand had grown a little too much recently, rendering them hard to take care of in addition with everything else that needed to be done in the clan. As such, Opal was tasked with getting the meat ready for tonight’s dinner; that included cutting it into shape, praying over it, making sure it was safe to eat before the adults took over cooking it; everything a nine-year-old can do to help make sure everybody gets a chance to satisfy their hunger.
And so Opal worked. She started by taking the largest chunks of meat and cutting it into smaller pieces. The knife was somewhat too large for her little paw, but she tried not to notice. Instead, she focused on making strips of meat and sitting down on the table next to her, making sure the fat was removed before setting them down on the table before her. Some adults may have been concerned regarding Opal’s eagerness with the knife--she obviously took way too much glee in being allowed to use one--but none could ignore her innocent desire to help her clan.
“You’re up, Misty!” She announced as she laid the first few strips of meat on the table before her. Next to her, a gray-and-white furred tabaxi had just carried a large ceramic bowl filled with water and set it on the table to Opal’s right.
“Slow down, Opal,” Misty Skies reminded her. Her tone was gentle; it would be easy to mistake her for Opal’s big sister, rather than a friend a year younger than her. “If you wash any faster we’ll need to get another bowl.” As she spoke, she took each strip of meat and, with the delicate care of someone who didn’t want to get food poisoning, washed it in the bowl. Soon, the water began to turn a faint shade of red as the blood from the meat dispersed. Unlike Opal, Misty moved with calm and careful movements, ensuring that each strip was washed thoroughly before being set down on a cloth next to her. “It’s your turn, Winter,” Misty purred once she finished washing a few strips.
“On it.” At her cue, a tabaxi her age with solid white fur walked over and began carefully salting the meat. Each piece was lightly sprinkled with salt before being taken and set upon a nearby drying rack. Winter Moor seemed to take his job with considerable focus and precision, more so than the others.
This process continued for quite a bit of time, lasting until the final piece of meat was cut, washed, and salted. Eventually, Winter took the last strip of meat and set it on the drying rack. Across the ramada, Opal had traded in her knife for a rag and was scrubbing down the table, while Misty had returned from disposing of the dirty water.
Once Opal had successfully cleaned up her part of the table, she let out a squeal so high only canines should be able to hear it. Unfortunately for the people around her, it seemed cats could too.
“We did it!” Opal threw her arms over her friends’ shoulders and squeezed them into a tight hug. “ You guys did so good! Berry Bush is gonna be so excited when he sees this!”
Winter and Misty both made noises that sounded something like cats choking. Probably because they were. “O-Opal,” Winter spoke up, “Can’t breathe.”
“Huh? Oh!” Opal quickly let them both go, smiling sheepishly as she watched them catch their breath. “Sorry, I’m just so excited! I can’t wait to see what everyone thinks of our dinner!”
Winter massaged the part of his neck where Opal tried strangling him. “You know we just prepared the food, right?”
Opal rolled her eyes, in that over-the-top way children do. “I know, but still! We helped make the clan’s food, isn’t that cool to you?”
“Well...Yeah, a little bit. ” Winter gave a small smile, brushing his paw over his arm in an idle gesture. He was always more subdued than Opal, but even he felt pride at how he played his part.
“We should go tell Berry Bush,” Misty pointed out. “Maybe if he sees how good we did, he’ll let us help him cook it. I think I saw him with my grandmother a while ago.”
“That’s a great idea!” Opal grinned, gripping her friends’ wrists and pulling them along behind her as she charged out of the cookhouse.
“We can walk ourselves, you know,” Winter argued, though he didn’t try prying his paw from her grasp. He sidestepped a wooden pole holding up the ramada, just in time to protect himself from running into it. “Please slow down before one of us gets hurt.”
“When has Opal ever slowed down?” Misty asked, her tone more amused than concerned. Winter couldn’t come up with an answer to that.
The trio rushed through the camp, weaving around passersby and obstacles in their path with the reckless agility known only to hyperactive children who feared neither pain nor retribution. The older tabaxi, to their credit, viewed the kittens running around like this as nothing more than a minor disturbance, as they moved just as fluidly to avoid them.
It didn’t take long for Opal and her friends to arrive at their destination: Serene Heather’s ramada. Appearance-wise, it looked just like any other ramada; a simple square-shaped structure made of wooden poles and an intertwined grass roof, with a curtain of fleece that could be rolled up at the top or unraveled like a curtain, at its occupants discretion. The biggest difference, by far, was the size. At about fifteen feet wide and long, this made it a little larger than other ramadas. Fitting, since it was made to house four tabaxi.
At the moment, the curtain was lowered. With how thick the curtain was, this allowed some level of privacy for its occupants, stopping others from seeing inside. This did not, however, do much to mask the voices speaking from beyond it. Neither did it stop the three kittens from ever so carefully peeking inside.
The interior of the ramada was pretty simple, not so much decorated as it was a collection of its owners’ property. Trinkets and knick knacks were scattered through the ramada. Some on the ground, some in a chest or two, some were even hanging in nets from the roof. Small pallets of fabric laid on the ground, acting as the closest thing to a bed in a tabaxi clan.
And in the center of the ramada, skirting along the edge of the pallet, were two tabaxi. One, an older woman in her late forties, with solid cream-colored fur. The other, a much younger man in his mid-twenties, his fur a simple red color. The two of them were deep in conversation, enough that they didn’t realize the children looking in on them.
“...I wish I could have a hunt deal with this problem, Berry, but the truth is we simply have too much to do right now.” The older tabaxi--who the kittens recognized as the chief hunter, Serene Heather--rifled through a chest near the pallet. After a moment of searching, she pulled out a dagger made of a darkly colored metal. She sheathed it and strapped it to her waist before continuing, “Too many hunters are busy with finding prey for the banquet, and Nimble will have my tail if he thinks we’re not respecting Nula enough.”
The red tabaxi--Berry Bush--nodded his head. “I get that, Heather, but if we don’t deal with this problem it could be more trouble than its worth.” In his hand, he held what seemed to be a yam, but it was covered in soil and seemed to have large bites taken out of it. “Whatever’s gotten through the Tree-Wall is getting into our farms. If this keeps up, we may have to start digging into the banquet stock. That could ruin the festival--”
“I know that, Berry,” Heather soothed, her tone gentle. “My main concern is whether or not we can spare the hunters right now. With the hunters catching prey for the banquet and everyone else working on the preparations…” She shook her head. “Sometimes I wish the gods would give us a break every once and awhile.”
“Don’t let Nimble Paw catch you saying that,” Berry chuckled. “Last time I suggested we let the monthly ceremonies be anything less than perfect, he spent an hour lecturing me on the importance of spirituality. How do you put up with that?”
“He’s my mate first and my shaman second,” Heather said. “We may have our differences regarding our faith, but they don’t affect our relationship.” She kicked the chest closed and turned to Berry. “I got to go and make sure the patrols are on schedule. I’ll talk to Fallen Feathers about having a few hunters keep an eye on the farms. Is that acceptable?” Berry nodded. “Good. In the meantime, you may want to keep a closer eye on your wards.” Her eyes darted toward where Opal and her friends were watching from. “Out now, you three. I know you’re there.”
“Yes ma’am,” the three of them intoned. At her cue, the children pushed past the curtain and stepped forward. To their credit, Misty and Winter actually looked guilty about eavesdropping. Opal, however, looked curious.
“What’s eating the crops?” Opal asked, tilting her head to the side. “Ooh! Can we help catch it! My claws are really sharp!” To demonstrate, she held out her paws, like she was going to grab something, and flexed her claws. “We can help you!”
Heather glanced at Berry Bush with a wry smile, as if to say, This one’s on you. She strolled out the ramada, taking a second to pet Misty Skies on the head, causing Misty to mewl, “Grandmother…” Heather chuckled and left the group to their own devices.
Berry kneeled so that he was on equal footing with the children. He smiled in that ‘cool uncle’ kinda way, even though he wasn’t related to any of the kittens by blood. “Slow down there, little one. Last I checked, you’re a bit too young to be hunting prey.”
Opal pouted, her paws falling to her side. “But we can help! We’re very strong! Last week I caught a mouse that got into camp!”
“I remember, it was delicious,” Berry chuckled. “But that doesn’t change the fact that your parents--” He looked to Misty. “--And your grandparents, would kill me if I let you guys fight anything bigger than a rat. Those are the rules.”
Opal crossed her arms over her chest. “The rules are dumb. I’m a great hunter!”
“I’m sure you are,” Berry agreed. “How about we go to the cookhouse, and I can see how good you did on prepping the meat? You can even set the fire pit for me.”
At once, all three kittens’ eyes seemed to light up with glee. Opal, Misty, and Winter all grabbed Berry by his arms and began dragging him to the cookhouse, chattering about how well they did at their jobs and how excited they were to cook something.
But even as she learned how to start a fire, Opal couldn’t help but think about the prey Berry mentioned, and how skilled of a hunter he was sure she was. If he really believed she was such a good hunter, he would let her catch the prey. She knew she could do it, she just needed a chance to prove herself.
And that’s how she decided she would catch the prey tonight, whether the adults wanted her help or not.
It was about midnight when Opal decided it was safe to leave the ramada.
Both of her parents, exhausted from spending all day hunting, were collapsed on the pallet next to her, their bodies curled up beside each other in a way that Opal would have deemed adorable, if it weren’t for how loud they snored.
Once Opal was sure that they had fallen asleep, she carefully moved out from under her covers and snuck out of the ramada and into the open night air. She spied a few adults meandering around the camp, chatting as they made their way into their own ramadas. Within minutes, the only people awake were the few hunters keeping an eye out for anything going bump in the night. Rogue dinosaurs, Batiri, pterafolk; that sorta thing. Kittens sneaking around after dark weren't on the list though.
At least, she hoped.
Opal sneaked over to Serene Heather’s ramada. Like earlier, the curtain was pulled over to keep anyone from disturbing them. Not that it would work, Opal was an expert at disturbing people. She simply walked over to the ramada and stuck her head into the curtain.
The ramada was the same as earlier, but this time it held four sleeping bodies. One of Misty Skies, one of Serene Heather, and a third--this one with solid white fur that had small flowers and the like tangled up in it. That was Nimble Paw, the clan’s shaman and the oldest cat in the clan. The fourth and final body was that of a very small kitten, with red-and-white fur. Opal recognized him as Misty’s baby brother, Clever Bit. She almost swooned over how cute he was.
Unfortunately, she had to keep the swoons to herself, seeing as waking up either of Misty’s grandparents or her brother would surely end with Opal being scolded. So she was careful enough to reach over to her friend and poke her friend gently in the ribs. When that didn’t work, she poked harder. Several times. Eventually, Misty’s eyes fluttered open and landed on Opal. She opened her mouth to speak, but Opal held up a paw in a ‘quiet’ motion. She gestured for Misty to follow her out of the ramada, and she complied.
“What’s going on Opal?” Misty asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “We’re not supposed to help Berry with the cookhouse ‘til breakfast time.”
“We’re going on an adventure,” Opal told her. “You, me, and Winter. Isn’t this exciting?”
“It would be more exciting if I knew what was going on.”
“You’ll see~” Opal said in a singsong voice. “It’s a surprise.”
Misty rubbed a paw against her eye. “Can’t I just go to sleep? We can do this tomorrow.”
Opal shook her head. “Nope! It has to be tonight. I mean, you could go to sleep, but that just means I’ll be doing this without you.”
Misty frowned. Somewhere behind her weary eyes, Opal could see the gears in her mind turning. It took a few seconds, but she finally sighed and said, “Alright, I’ll come. But please tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Opal promised. “First though, I gotta get Winter. C’mon.”
Opal led Misty to Winter’s ramada, easily avoiding the gazes of the patrolling adults. She noted how many hunters were on watch tonight. Normally there was only a pawful of them, maybe four or so at most. Tonight though, there were about six or eight. Serene Heather must have increased the patrols as she promised.
“Alright,” Opal said as they approached the ramada, “Just let me handle this. You stay on watch.” Misty mumbled something under her breath, but silently agreed.
Winter’s ramada was much like Heather’s, in that it was sparsely decorated with the property of Winter’s family. Resting in here was a collection of some of the most physically intimidating tabaxi in the clan. The largest was definitely Fallen Feathers on Water. With his large, muscled form and his dark brownish-black fur, his sheer stature was enough to strike fear into his opponents. Next to him was the much more slender figure made up of white striped fur. Despite her small size, Opal knew she was Snow on the Mountain, Winter's mother and easily the quickest and most dangerous person in the clan. And finally, curled up next to them, was none other than Winter Moor.
A single poke on the nose caused his eyes to blink open. He looked confused, but instead of asking questions, he simply got up, careful not to wake his sleeping family, and followed Opal out of the ramada.
“Alright what’s going on?” Winter asked, crossing his arms over his chest. His fur was a mess of tangles and his eyes were slightly glazed over, but he was nonetheless awake and aware.
“Opal has a surprise planned for us,” Misty explained. “She won’t tell me what it is though.”
“It’s special,” Opal promised. “I’ll tell you what it is in a minute. Just follow me to the fields.”
Winter pinched the bridge of his nose, the same way he had seen the adults do whenever they were annoyed. “Why can’t we just go to sleep?”
“Because we don’t want her doing something dumb alone,” Misty pointed out. Winter conceded to that.
Opal led her friends over to the eastern fields, where the clan took care of their crops. The trio climbed over the fence and made their way to the tool shed where they kept the various farming equipment. It wasn’t until they got there that Opal stopped and ushered her friends inside.
“Are you going to tell us what we’re doing now?” Winter asked, wedging himself between Opal and Misty in what had to be an uncomfortable position. The tool shed was small and devoid of light, but their small builds and darkvision took care of each problem to some degree.
“Mhm!” Opal grinned eagerly. “Guys, we’re about to go on our first real adventure. After tonight, we’re going to be heroes to our clan. They’re going to be so impressed by us that they might make us hunters imedatedly--Immaydally--”
“Immediately?” Winter offered.
“Exactly!” Opal nodded her head. “It’ll be great. And all we have to do is hunt one little thing.”
“You want us to...hunt?” Misty asked incredulously. “You can’t be serious. We’re gonna get in so much trouble.” She glanced anxiously at the door, as if waiting for someone to yank it open and start scolding them.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” Opal said as she patted her between the ears. “Your auntie Opal has everything figured out.”
Misty scowled. “You’re only a year older than us, and you’re not our aunt.”
Winter smirked. For him, that was like bursting out into laughter. “Okay, but what do you want us to hunt? We don’t know where any prey is.”
“Oh that’s not a problem, ‘cause we’re not leaving the lair to go hunting. Remember when Berry Bush said something was getting into the crops this morning?”
“Oh no.” Misty wrung her paws. She looked like she was mentally going through all the ways this could go wrong. Despite that, she didn’t seem like a scared kid. Rather, she sounded like a concerned parent, fretting about whether her kids were in danger of getting hurt. “We don’t even know what that thing is. What if it’s too much for us?”
“Then we’ll call the patrols,” Opal said. “And we can tell the adults that we heard strange noises and thought someone was in trouble, so we went to help.”
“Nobody’s going to believe that.” Misty glanced over to Winter. “C’mon, you agree that we shouldn’t do this, right?” He didn’t answer, instead giving her a pensive glance. “Oh no, you don’t agree with her, do you?”
“We’re going to be hunters in a few years,” Winter pointed out. “We could use as much practice as we can get. Besides, think of the look on our parents' faces when we get rid of the thing that’s harassing our crops.”
Misty didn’t look convinced. That’s when Opal spoke up, “Plus, we could use some of your mom’s tools! Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
At the mention of her mom, Misty’s expression became conflicted. “Well, she did leave them to me…” She bit her lip. “You promise you’ll both be extra careful?”
“We promise,” Opal and Winter said in unison.
Misty sighed. “I guess I can’t let you guys do this alone then. I’m in. Just...Let me go get some things, okay?” Misty opened the shed door, glanced to look for passing adults, then made a dash back to her ramada.
Several minutes later, Opal heard a subtle knock on the door. When nobody answered, she heard Misty’s voice hiss, “It’s me! C’mon, I have stuff for us.”
Opal opened the door and stepped outside with Winter following behind her. Misty was standing in front of the shed carrying what seemed to be a large metal shield, some leather boots, and a dagger. All of these items were sized for adults, but Misty held them confidently in her hands.
“If we’re going to do this, we need to be ready,” Misty said. “These are some stuff my mom made before--” Her voice faltered. “--Before she died.” She took a calming breath. “They should be able to help us hunt.”
“Cool…” Winter examined the items in her hand, taking the dagger and inspecting it closely. It was a simple iron dagger, not especially strong, but he could feel a strange sensation when he held it. “Your mom really made these?”
“Mhm. She made lots of magic stuff, these are just the only ones I could find that we don’t need to ‘attune’ to. Whatever that means.” She watched Winter hold out the dagger, trying to figure out the correct way to hold it. “That dagger’s enchanted so that it flies back into your paw when you throw it. Just be careful not to hit anyone, okay?”
“I can do it,” he assured her. “My mom lets me play with her daggers all the time.” He pointed it at an invisible enemy and jabbed with it. It nearly fumbled from his paw before he picked it back up. “I--I meant to do that.”
Misty resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Sure. Opal, take these boots please?”
Opal pouted, but did as she was asked. She took the boots and looked them over. “Why do I get the boots? Why can’t I have the dagger?”
“Because you’re sneaky and those boots will make you even sneakier,” Misty explained. “As long as you wear them, nobody can hear your pawsteps. Maybe you can sneak up on the prey?”
Opal nodded along to Misty’s words, already starting to put the boots on. They were much too big for her, but that didn’t stop her from lacing them up anyway. Once they were on, she stomped her paws as hard as she could, but no sound came out. “Awesome,” she said. “These are so cool.”
“Thanks,” Misty agreed. Now that her hands were a little freed up, she took the shield and strapped it to her arm. It covered most of her body, and it was pretty heavy, but she was able to hold it up well enough to keep herself safe. The shield seemed to buzz with magical energy, a feeling that helped calm Misty’s worries significantly. “Okay Opal, what’s the plan?”
“It’s easy. We just wait around to see what animal’s eating our crops, then--” She flexed her claws and mimed digging into something with them. “--We kill it. No problem.”
“That’s not much of a plan,” Winter pointed out. “Do we even know where the animal will come from?”
Opal made an iffy motion with her paw. “Not really. I thought we could just walk around and see if we find them?”
Winter frowned. “If we’re doing this, we need a plan of attack. First off, we should know where we’re fighting. The animal got into the yams, right?” Opal and Misty nodded. “Alright, so we should go to the yam part of the fields. Follow me.”
Winter led the others towards the northern end of the field, past the other fruits and vegetables the clan grew. As they sneaked, they were careful to avoid crossing paths with any hunters patrolling the area. Opal thanked the gods that a hunt had just moved out of this section. That should leave them with time to work. They ran over to a hut in the middle of the field and bunkered down next to it.
“Okay,” Winter began. He pointed to a spot of soil that looked like it had been dug up recently. “The smart thing to do is let Opal go first so she can sneak up and get a hit in. After that, Misty; you should use your shield to keep its attention. I’ll attack with the dagger from further away. If anyone gets hurt, we call for help immediately. Got it?” His friends nodded. “Alright. So now we wait.”
Time went by slowly and boringly. They sat around, keeping an eye on the Tree-Wall for signs of movement. They would talk during that time, trying to entertain each other. Every once in a while, an adult or two would approach where they were and they would hide in the hut until they left. About an hour into their watch, they finally noticed movement coming from the treeline.
“There it is!” Opal whispered. Winter immediately slapped his paw over her mouth. She pulled it away and said, as quietly as possible, “Sorry.”
They watched as a small beast, only about two feet tall, emerged from a small hole in the Tree-Wall. It trotted over to the closest yam, out of the shade and into open moonlight that let Opal and her friends see what it really was: a small hoofed creature with a coat of grayish hair. Opal recalled her dad bringing one of these home one day not too long ago. He called it a peccary, a type of pig.
Once she was sure the peccary wasn’t looking in their direction, she nodded towards her friends. “Watch this.” She crept forward, keeping low to the ground in order to hide her body better. Her eyes never drifted from the peccary, vigilantly watching to see if it had noticed her.
It didn’t, of course. Misty hadn’t been kidding when she said Opal was stealthy. Her brown fur hid well with the darkness and the dirt around them. She sneaked close, ever so close to the peccary and, when she was certain she was near enough, she held up her claws and swung them at it.
The pig seemed to notice her at that exact moment. With a sudden squeal, it reeled back just in time to avoid her attack, causing her claws to strike nothing but open air. At that moment, having seen Opal’s failure to strike, her friends stepped out from the hut’s cover and approached the pig, holding their weapons at the ready.
The pig took the first move. It swung its tusks at Opal, attempting to rip her open. She jumped back suddenly, missing the attack so closely that part of her shirt caught on the fabric and tore, ever so slightly. Opal tried returning the blow, only to falter when she saw the pig raise its tusks again, and missed by a longshot.
“My turn, Opal.” Winter pulled his arm back and flung his dagger at the peccary. By mere luck, it just barely hit, impaling itself into the upper part of its back. Winter grinned and held out his hand, causing the dagger to rip itself from the peccary’s skin and return to his hand.
The peccary made a very loud squealing sound as the dagger plunged into and out of it. It looked like it was going to run, but it never got the chance. Before it could try escaping, Misty ran over to it and tried bashing the shield into its side, only to be met by its tusks. Wood met ivory, and while each side tried their hardest to break past the other’s defenses, neither did.
Misty made a feral growl and channeled her strength into the shield. The repulsion magic inside it buzzed to life, and suddenly the peccary went flying back, into the hut, slamming its wall against it before it fell prone.
Opal didn’t waste any time. She charged over to the peccary and raised her claws up. The moonlight glinted off them as she brought them down on the boar, digging under its layer of hair and drawing blood across its skin. The boar let out a pained noise and crumbled underneath Opal, kicking its legs in an attempt to escape her grasp. Opal didn’t let go.
She took a deep breath and trailed her claws under the peccary’s throat. As she did so, words came to her. She didn’t know where they came from or how she remembered them, but they felt as natural to her as breathing.
“Thank you Nula,” she said in an eerily calm voice, “For this gift you’ve given us.” She sliced her claws across its throat and watched as the light of its eyes dimmed to nothing. “We will honor it as we honor you.” By an instinct she didn’t recognize, she rested her paw on its face and closed its eyes. “Goodbye.” Her friends walked up behind her, watching her with confusion...and awe.
“Opal,” Winter began, glancing between her and the peccary. “What was that?”
Opal shrugged. “I dunno, I just killed it. It wasn’t that hard.”
“He means what you said,” Misty told her. “That was really poetic. Did you hear it somewhere?”
Opal frowned. “I...I don’t know. It sounded familiar somehow. Maybe my dad said it once?”
Winter tilted his head. “It sounded like a shaman-y thing. Maybe you heard it from Nimble Paw? Or Vibrant Clover?”
“Maybe,” Opal said. “But what does it matter? Look what we did!” Her energy returned, Opal pulled the peccary into a standing position. It was really heavy, but she just barely managed it. “We really did it! That’ll teach these animals not to mess with our clan!”
“We really did,” Winter agreed, his smile big and lopsided. “I didn’t actually think that would work.”
“That was incredible, you guys,” Misty said. “I’ve never felt so...so strong before.” She held up the shield and ran her hand over it, taking in the buzzing feeling of it. “I can’t wait to tell dad about it.”
“We did great!” Opal ran forward and pulled her friends into a tight hug. “We gotta go tell everyone! They’ll never believe it!”
“I see it and I don’t believe it,” said a voice that came from behind the kittens. They turned their heads to see none other than Berry Bush himself, his pale blue eyes shining in the moonlight. His expression shifted from confused, to concerned, to surprised all in the span of a few seconds.
Opal broke out into a grin. “Berry Bush!” She released her friends from her death grip and ran over to him, tugging on his arm and pointing at the peccary. “Look what we did! We found what was eating the yams!”
Berry whistled appreciatively. “I can see that. And I don’t suppose you found it dead, did you?”
Opal shook her head. “Nope! We killed it! I told you we’re good hunters!” Behind her, Winter and Misty proudly held their dagger and shield in front of them.
“Looks like you did,” Berry agreed. “Well thanks you three. You saved us a lot of work.” He smiled and pat Opal on the head. “Guess we should take this one to the cookhouse. We can get to work preparing it for tomorrow.”
“Yes!” Opal jumped up eagerly. “I can’t wait! And can we tell our parents--”
“And grandparents,” Misty added.
“--What we did?”
Berry, who had already picked up the peccary and slung it over his shoulder, glanced back at Opal. “I don’t see why not. Though you might get in trouble for sneaking out so late.”
Opal squealed as she pulled her friends close. “C’mon you guys, let’s race to the cookhouse! I wanna help cut into the peccary!”
With that, Opal, Misty, and Winter began sprinting back towards the center of the lair. As they did, Berry Bush shook his head and chuckled. “There’s never a dull moment with those three, that’s for sure.” He followed them back to the cookhouse, watching as the kittens tried to outrun each other. He was certain that, regardless of whether they got punished in the morning, Opal and her friends would never forget their first real hunt.
This was sure to be the start of a very bright future for the three of them.