Ceadia - On Your Way Out

Ceadia woke to bird song and the smell of damp grass, laying still as her senses slowly rose to meet them. Her bed-roll felt particularly scratchy under her shoulders that morning, though everything in camp had begun feeling more and more uncomfortable in the past few weeks. As the sleep slowly seeped out of her body, she took note of the soft sounds of Keithia’s breathing. The smell of her fur filled her nostrils, thick and heady with notes of earth and ferns. She used to love that smell. Used to breathe it in whenever she could get the chance. But now it felt heavy, bullying all other scents out of her nose, rough and imposing.

They’d sparred particularly vigorously the day before. Ceadia felt the pain of effort in her shoulders when she shifted, trying to stay as quiet as possible. She opened her eyes, finally, to see gray light filtering through the little holes speckling the walls of their tent. This was the day. She knew it in her heart. She felt it in the pit of her stomach. She’d been holding off, for her mother’s sake, for Keithia’s sake, but the wild was calling to her, all sharp grass and cold streams and bright colours. Her skin was fizzing with the urge to move, to run, to go and go and go until she reached…. Something…. Nothing…. The end…. A new beginning. She rose carefully from her bed, trying her best to stay quiet as she grabbed her spear and her cloak. Keithia wouldn’t understand. She still had a few months left before she would feel the pull of the rite, feel the restlessness in her bones. She’d been stuck to her side since her legs had gotten long enough to match her pace. She wouldn’t understand.
Ceadia rolled up her mat and placed it neatly in the corner of the tent, folding up her blanket next to it, and then tip-toed to the door flap. As she drew it open, the morning light fell across Keithia’s sleeping form, and Ceadia’s stomach dropped as her friend shifted, groaning softly.

“Whad’re you doin, Di?”
Ceadia swallowed, her mouth going dry. She prayed Keithia wouldn’t open her eyes, wouldn’t see her leaving, betraying her with one swift decision. She stepped out of the tent, holding the flap to keep it from snapping shut. “Just going to relieve myself,” she lied. Keithia huffed a derisive laugh.
“You have a bladder like a pup.”
“Well,” Ceadia replied softly, “We can’t all have your legendary resilience and stamina.”
“You certainly cannot.” Keithia giggled again, settling deeper into her mound of pillows. “Don’t stay out too long, it’s cold in here without you.”
Ceadia set her jaw, her brow pinching with pain. “Sure thing.”

With that, she gently closed the flap door, drew her hood over her head, and then turned and walked into the trees, spear tightly in hand and head firmly set forward.

---

Bright red. She knew the Sharp Tooths had red blood, but she hadn’t expected it to be so bright. Like the berries on the short trees. But even those turned a duller colour when you crushed them between your fingers, between your teeth. Ceadia barely registered the bite of the icy water as she knelt in it up to her hips, her breaths quick and shallow and her eyes wide as she watched the river take the red and weave it into ribbons before taking it down, down, downstream, until she couldn’t see it anymore. Her neck and chest fur was plastered down with it, slick against her body, and the smell, gods... the smell was sharp and overwhelming and made her feel like her brain was full of needles. She felt a push against her throat and retched, nearly losing what little supper she’d had. She couldn’t remember much through the haze of panic. Shining claws. Rough, ruddy fur. A burst of pain. She looked down at her arm. Her fingers weren’t… right. Without thinking, she grabbed them and pulled, yelping at the cracking sound as she set her fingers back to where they belonged. She dunked her hands back under the water, letting the cold soothe the pain. More blood washed off of her, revealing a nasty bite mark on her right fore-arm. She’d have to cover that. It didn’t look like it was bleeding too badly, but it was hard to tell through the mess.

Ceadia focused on the rush of the river, trying to slow her breathing. She knew she had to get it under control to get the pins and needles to leave her face and neck. She closed her eyes and breathed, slowly cupping water over her body, brushing her uninjured fingers through the thick fur on her chest. The sun beat down on her shoulders, radiating heat into her tired muscles.

“You’re okay,” she assured herself quietly. She didn’t quite believe it but saying it was a good first step. Her mind wandered to memories and she bit her tongue, focusing harder on the sound of the water. “You’re okay,” she repeated, more firmly this time. She was. It had been terrifying, but she’s made it out. She’d bested the Sharp Tooth. She’d fought with everything she had and she’d triumphed. The fur on Ceadia’s shoulders rose as she opened her eyes again. A new, intense spark shone in them. She finished cleaning herself and stood, water dripping off of her, feeling at least three feet taller. She stepped back into the grasses, following the erratic trail she’d left behind her. She had been victorious, and she would claim her trophy. Her stomach would be full tonight. She would want for nothing.