Beyond the perimeter of a rotted forest in the Henklomeon Steppe, there was a village. Settlements of any sort were unheard of in the north--the Steppe's fleet-footed and migratory wildlife incentivised the nomadic lifestyles of their hunters, and the land's soil was unfit to sustain crops on such a level as to feed an entire tribe. The Wolfkin, who had staked their historic territory in the east, were once vilified for their practice of kidnapping children to ensure the continuation of their traditions. They had not been exiled or pushed back to the eastern grasslands, for there was no standardised authority within the Steppe to ensure that they would stay, but in fear of persecution, the Wolfkin rarely stepped beyond that ancestral homeland.
Standing upon the walls of their village, two Beastkin kept watch over its large gate, keeping an eye out for any returning hunters or wild beasts. To them, the lives of their nomad kin appeared strange. Exotic, even. But then again, few of the villagers had ever stepped beyond the relative safety of its borders.
"Did you hear about that Rabbitkin girl?" One of them asked, "Killed Usi, but the elder's allowed her to stay."
"Of course. Entire village is up in arms about it." His partner responded, "They're saying she should be executed, never mind exiled. I can't blame them. She takes her share from the stockpile, but doesn't work at all. Just walks to the Hall of Mernda every morning and goes back to her hut in the evening. Got a nasty attitude, too."
"What, did she reject you or something?"
"You know what I'm talking about."
"I'm just kidding around." He replied, "Although, you have to admit she's good with a bow. Usi was one of our best, and he ended up taking an arrow right in the gut."
"How's his wife?"
"I hear she's up and about. Some of the others managed to coax her out of her hut this morning." Pausing for a moment, the hunter continued, "Took her to the kitchen."
"That girl's certainly got a short temper…" Looking up, the second hunter sighed, "-Wonder what it's going to be like when the two of them run into each other?"
"That's why I've been having my meals early recently. Couldn't stand watching something like that happen."
Near the back of that settlement, an old, dilapidated hut in desperate need of refurbishment stood. It was in such a state that no other villager wanted to take it, so naturally, when the time came for the elder to decide on a place for their new guest to lodge, it was the perfect choice. Within its confines, there was little else aside from a mattress of straw, one-and-a-half wooden chairs, and a central, smouldering hearth which occasionally blew smoke through a gap in the roof. Resting with crossed legs next to that hearth were Pale and Fusala, who for a few minutes occupied themselves with nothing other than their thoughts.
"...Would it not be wise to seek a meal in the kitchen at this time of the day, Pale?" The shadowy girl eventually posed that question to her.
"I detest that place." She answered, "There isn't a single Wolfkin there who won't shoot me a look like they want to kill me as soon as I open the door."
"Even so, you require sustenance for your training."
"What training? I haven't learned a thing, and it's been five days already." Pale lamented, "That old man refuses to teach me anything. He wants me to meditate, as if that could help me."
"The foundations of all martial arts are defined by core philosophies. It is the way of such masters to only reveal their secrets to those who have proven themselves capable of understanding the principles of their disciplines."
"I understand that." She replied impatiently, "But a 'philosophy' isn't what I'm interested in. Perhaps that isn't particularly noble, or deserving, but I didn't travel this far to enlighten myself. I only want to grow stronger so that I can be of use to people."
"If I may be so bold, that is an immature way of thinking."
"Can you blame me? I've seen entire tribes decimated by Demons! I nearly lost my own life!" Pale yelled, "All of those people, with their myriad 'philosophies'--how did any of that help them in the face of an invincible foe!?"
Lowering her head and falling into silence, Pale closed her eyes and released a tired sigh.
"I'm sorry." She apologised, "It just… feels like we're wasting too much time."
"Let us proceed to the kitchen." Fusala suggested, "We must venture outside whether you intend to eat or not, and it would be for the best if we took advantage of the elder's generosity while we have the chance."
"You're right…" Standing up, Pale wandered towards the hut's door, "Once we're finished, let's go to the hall."
For Pale, a village of any size was overwhelmingly large, but the Wolfkin settlement wasn't a meagre one by any stretch of the imagination. The more fertile lands of the east allowed for scattered cultivation of the Steppe's hardy root vegetables, allowing the village to reach a population which a tribe could never dream of. Even so, the lack of support from the Holy Alliance and general difficulty of travelling between nations meant that technological innovations, whether magical or otherwise, were few and far between.
Pale didn't attempt to walk around or avoid any of the lingering Wolfkin within the village, who were quick to cast judging glances in her direction. Even so, compared to the harassment she had received on her first few days in the settlement, it seemed that the villagers were quieter on that morning for some reason. The kitchen and its large hall was a kind of communal meal room--Beastkin, whether Wolfkin or otherwise, traditionally ate together in groups to encourage socialisation. However, for that reason, meals were only prepared at specific times of the day, meaning Pale was forced to share a room with many other scorned villagers whenever she felt the need to eat.
The hearty chatter of the kitchen was quick to die down as her presence in the hall was brought to light. Long tables adorned with clay bowls and scraps of meat were taken by families or groups of hunting comrades, and plumes of hot smoke openly billowed out from the open door at the end of the room. Hearing whispers around her, Pale took a secluded seat next to a table with some freshly-served stew and quietly distracted herself with a light meal.
"The savoury smells originating from the kitchen are excellent at stimulating one's appetite." Fusala's voice echoed in her head, "I am aware it is impossible for me to dine at this moment and time, but I would like to make it known that I am somewhat jealous of your meal."
"I'm sorry, Fusala…" Pale replied, lowering her voice to a whisper, "But, I don't think it's a good idea for you to reveal yourself when I'm already so distrusted."
"Not to worry. I shall sustain myself with efficient, yet ultimately tasteless alchemical foods until the opportunity to enjoy a meal for myself arises."
Listening to the bustle of the kitchen reemerge as her presence was quickly forgotten about, Pale made an effort to eat quickly, eager to leave and find herself in the presence of her own company once more, or at least that of the elder's, who seemed to hold no true grudge against her for murdering one of his own villagers. Hearing the door to the kitchen open, she paused for a moment as silence fell upon the room, eventually raising her head to spot a small group of Wolfkin entering.
Perking up her ears as the forerunner of the group--a young woman, scanned the perimeter of the room only to lock eyes with Pale, she prepared to stand up from her seat as the girl, along with her followers, marched over to the corner in which she had hidden herself. Quickly finding herself surrounded on all sides, Pale blinked as the leader approached her with a fearful, yet determined look in her eyes.
"...A-Are you the one?" She asked shakily.
"Excuse me?"
"Are you the one…" She inhaled, "...Who killed my husband?"
Suddenly, that confrontation made much more sense. Looking back and forth, Pale could see that she'd been completely barged in by a group of Wolfkin who seemed intent on keeping her from leaving. As her eyes fell upon the grieving wife, Pale's heart couldn't help but jump in surprise as her eyes trailed down to the woman's stomach, quickly taking note of the fact that she was quite obviously pregnant.
"Your husband…?" Pale asked.
"The one who you shot…" The wife was struggling to maintain her composure, "His name was Usi. He was a hunter for the village…"
She had certainly killed one of their own--the amount of ridicule she had garnered over the past few days had only confirmed that whoever it was she had stuck with that arrow during the ambush hadn't emerged alive from the encounter.
"...Mm." Nodding her head, Pale answered, "I'm the one."
The pregnant woman held a dagger in both of her hands, with the grip of someone who had never brandished a weapon in their life. It was a curved blade of bone, obviously the talon of some predator, carved with an amateurish hand but still razor-sharp. Even with such a tool, her hands were trembling, as if she had murdered someone just moments ago. As the silence in the room mounted, the group of Wolfkin showed no intention of letting Pale leave.
"...What are you going to do with that?" She asked, expectantly awaiting the only possible answer.
"I-I…" As tears welled in her eyes, the wife cradled the dagger in her hands, "I came here… because I wanted to kill you…"
"But you don't have the strength to do it, do you?" Pale guessed, "Maybe you're worried that I'll try to fight back, or perhaps killing isn't in your nature."
As she took a step forward, the group of Wolfkin seemed ready to pounce on her at the slightest hint of aggression. Calmly wrapping her hands around the grieving widow's, she lifted the dagger's curved edge towards her chest, hovering it directly over her heart.
"I won't claim to understand the grief you feel." She began, "-Truthfully, had I known his wife was expecting a child, I would have still killed him. But, that said… your desire for vengeance--that, I understand."
Pressing the tip of the dagger against her tunic, Pale continued.
"You fear that vengeance will only bring emptiness. That's the thought of someone who has a good head on their shoulders, and if it's what you truly believe, then perhaps that's all you'll feel. Just emptiness." She spoke, "Kill me if it pleases you. As for myself--I don't seek any kind of satisfaction or deliverance from my own journey towards revenge. All I care about is strength, and destroying those who brought despair upon my people. I'm willing to make any sacrifice to achieve that goal. If the same is true of you, then I won't resist if you kill me. But, if it isn't, then you'll only be ruining yourself."
"Oi! Rabbitkin!" Someone from the group yelled, "Let the girl decide for herself!"
"Be quiet." Pale demanded, "Follow your own advice before lecturing others."
"Y-You…" The wife struggled to speak through her tears, "You would let me kill you? Just like that?"
"Was it a fight you were expecting?" She replied, "Maybe, you don't think it's worth avenging someone if you don't have to fight for it? I can resist, if that's what you want. But you'll almost certainly die."
"Then tell me!" She screamed, "What am I supposed to do!? Nothing will bring Usi back!"
"Do you want me to apologise?"
"No! That's-" Lowering her head, the young woman sighed, "I-I don't know what I want…!"
"It's a tragedy that your husband is dead. But the truth is that he tried to kill me. He didn't care if I had a husband of my own, or a child to take care of. That's what it means to put your life on the line--you can't act surprised when picking worthless fights gets you killed."
Releasing her grip, the widow quickly fell into hysterical sobs, falling to her knees. The bone knife fell uselessly from her grip onto the floor, and a number of Wolfkin who had followed her into the kitchen rushed to her side. Staring up towards the blockade of individuals who had formed up to prevent her escape, Pale sighed.
"I have to meet with the elder." She summarised, "Move aside."
"You're a monster!" One of them shouted, "Speaking to a grieving woman like that--how could you!?"
Despite the chaotic protests which quickly emerged from the forming crowd, none of the Wolfkin resisted as Pale began to push past them, timidly making way as she left the kitchen and walked hurriedly towards the large hall near the rear of the village.
"Pale." Fusala's voice echoed, "Would you like to speak about what just occurred?"
"No." She answered quickly, "I said everything that needed to be said. Let's get moving."
"...Understood."