Zayle Reyis
Out of the pan, into the fire
Lepri
The mist shrouded jungle called to his blood and heart the way no other place he had visited had. Hamurr was as enthralled as he was and, since they had no reason not to stay, the decision was an easy one.
The sparse population on the planet was also ideal, they chose a spot an hour’s lope away from the nearest settlement and made their shelter up in one of the old trees by the edge of one of the many rivers.
Hunting had come easily for Zayle, bow, fishing spear and sling were something he had used beside his father as a child. His furred soul however, found hunting to be an incredible frustration. The hunt was pure joy, but no meal thus far had come to an end beneath his jaws and paws. To make matters worse, he had a bad habit of completely ignoring his human half’s council or advice. So eager, so impatient and usually the prey heard them coming.
The Hapan was at a loss at what to do, but he kept them both fed, even if both were not satisfied. Part of their coming to such a place had simply been to discover the parts of themselves they hadn’t had the freedom to claim. Zayle wanted to not have to focus past the moment, to not be forced to speak to strangers for every basic need. There were things they couldn’t do without, but connecting with his other soul, claiming the moment for both of them and just being able to let go of all the trappings that others demanded, was freeing.
It was by no means easy. Carving out a territory of their own had been many hours of frustration and near terror. A long and ever growing list of the things all too keen to eat, hurt or poison them both kept them constantly vigilant. Add on top of it the random humanoid thieves and ne'er do wells that sought to prey on what they thought was a foolish outsider, well, it had been some kind of welcome. Thrilling was another word the Hapan added. The tug of war between the natural world, the natives and just working out how to live, fed a part of their souls that had been starving.
He just wished that his other half didn’t feel so discontent, but knew no other way to fix things. So, he left the cat to his own devices deciding that his success or failures were all on his own paws. It would have been easier if he didn’t black out everything, but arguing wasn’t solving the problem either. He paused as the wind shifted. Something new was in the air, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. The river was teeming with fish, which while normally was abundant, it looked like a migration run was happening.
It meant plenty of smoked fish and anything else he could come up with. He was busy hauling up the last of the nets, bulging with the slick and plump creatures. Tonight would be quite the feast, which he was looking forward to with relish. As the last of the sun slipped beneath the trees he had finished the last of the meal, setting the fish to dry. He washed in the river, but as he stepped onto the bank his form shifted and only a fleeting shadow slipped into the bushes.
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