[Flashback] The old days...

[Akuaysun]

Teris said nothing as his mother questioned him about the success of her cousin, simply giving a few nods while he chewed. She likely already knew the answer anyway, it was important for the elders to keep track of the youth of the tribe. It was how they chose what paths to lead them down. If someone showed a particular affinity with a fishing line there was no point sending them deep into the jungle for a hunt.

Finishing his melon and handing the remains back to Tika as she cut him another slice the boy cringed a bit knowing what was next. She observed everything, including his lack of observations and was trying to prove a point. “Two males and a female, they were singing, trying to mate with her, I’d say lesser males as well because it’s so late in the season. He was deliberately dancing around one particular part of the question because he didn’t know and she knew he didn’t. He had never actually looked at the birds; he didn’t see the point in knowing what color they were in the current circumstance.

“They flew off away from us, deeper into the jungle. First the female and then her two prospective in tow, but I don’t know what color they were, I wasn’t watching them. I knew they were there but I was trying to keep my eyes out for things that can only be seen.” It was a weak excuse but it was the only one he could think of. In all respects it was the truth, but he knew his mother expected all parts of her quiz to be fulfilled. You could block two arrows but if the third still made it through, you were still going to be wounded. All or nothing, that was Myri’s way, and that was now the way of the people.

Holding his breath, Teris waited for the ensuing correction. He was nearly sure of the rest of his answers but again it didn’t matter, even if he was right his mother would point out the fallacy of not knowing absolutely.

[Cayenne]

His mother took his rind, making sure he had the new piece before sending it winging gracefully into the dense vegetation across the barely-trampled path. Some sort of bird or animal would feast on what they left, and as they went on, Tika would scatter the seeds - perhaps some would grow, or they would be picked up and devoured. The flesh of the melon was a bright orange, and delightfully sour to the taste. It was a particular favourite of many Myrians because of its ability to shock your senses, even if only temporarily. In the sweltering, tropical heat, it was a very useful snack - even if it was powerful enough to make one wince.

She bit into her own piece as she listened to his answers. She knew her son was guessing - she could probably pick any of a dozen possible things he might have seen, and knew that he had not seen any of them... if only because he was trying to watch the other things. But that didn't matter. What did matter was that he had failed. She let out a small sigh, her lips pursed, eyes narrowing slightly, as she studied her son. "The singing came from the red long-tails to the west," she told him once he had finished, and admitted his oversight, or lack thereof. "The three tiktiks were indeed a female and two males, but the males were fighting to help the female decide which to chose as a mate. But something disturbed them, which is what caused them to fly off." She leaned forward, frowning as she looked into her son's eyes. "What is important is that they flew off... that they were bothered enough to get away. Which tells you that something could be coming towards us, and it is something that we need to be aware of." She was almost nose to nose with him by then, the melon forgotten. "It only takes a heartbeat of not paying attention until your heart beats no longer."

She sat back. "You must always, always be aware. So much lurks here, Teris. All it takes is one wrong step. One wrong step, and your life is forfeit. You're dead. You must pay attention. We are the Tiger-Eyed. No detail is unimportant. Or else you shame not only yourself, but your family as well. One detail could lead to the death of your people. Nothing must escape us, do you understand?" Perhaps that was harsh - he was only a child, after all, and there was so much to see and pay attention to. But he knew that he was getting off somewhat lightly because he and his mother were the only ones here. Had there been more, he might well have had a new bruise or two.

She sat back, then, getting out of his face and taking a bite of her melon. "Shortly after we left the Basin, I pointed out to you a flower and a frog. What colours were they, and what details of both of them do you remember?" She was giving him another chance - a chance to redeem himself, and to show her that he had been paying attention... even if it had been more than an hour since she had shown them to him.

[Akuaysun]

Teris listened silently, there wasn’t anything he could do about the matter, he hadn’t seen the birds, or rather hadn’t looked at them and now he was suffering the woman’s mild wrath. There was no point in fighting or arguing. Instead he simply sat with his shoulders slumped slightly, nodding, having heard the speech a hundred different times before. He could have said anything or nothing at all and it wouldn’t have mattered, she was looking for an answer he didn’t have and nothing else would due.

Listening to her next question his mind wandered back to what she was talking about. If he could not answer this series properly then he was in for a rather good beating. It was a deliberate question to tell her about something that she had pointed out, if he couldn’t, then it would be similar to saying that him being out with her was a complete waste of time and he didn’t take their lessons seriously.

“The flower was hidden in the shade; it was purple with bluish stripes and dots. It moved around a bit, and shined a little. The poison frog was shiny and black with orange dots in a diamond pattern.” He spoke shortly, taking another bite of the melon. He knew the answers on this one; she had pointed them out after all. It was easy to simply repeat the details in one’s mind until they were committed, especially when you knew you would be asked about it later.

[Cayenne]

"Very good," Tika nodded her approval of her son's observing skills, his earlier failures already past and and more or less forgiven. It may have been unfair to expect such a young child to be able to follow everything that was going on around them like that, but it was unfair not to teach them as much as they could while they were young. This was what they would grow up with. This was what they had to know to survive. If you taught them from a young age that they needed to pay attention to these things, and made sure that the lesson sunk in... well, sooner or later, they would start to use it. And the faster, the better.

"Why can others from beyond the jungle not eat qallos...?" She trailed off. She had been about to say something, to ask him something else, to continue with the lesson, maybe, when one eye flicked to the corner and she turned her head in that direction. She lowered the melon to her lap, trapping it between her knees, putting the enormous knife in its hilt at her hip for the moment where it was within reach should she need it in a flash. In almost the same movement, the strung bow was in her hand, and she was taking an arrow from her quiver with her other. Ter could see what his mother was looking at. The bushes were moving up ahead, and careful steps that came from something with four legs were coming in their general direction, perhaps drawn by the sounds of their conversation. He saw the bushes part, as a burly brown horse parted through the bushes, carrying a large, pale-skinned... that was a human, wasn't it? One of those foreign Northerners...! What was it doing HERE?

The man said something to them in a rough, barking voice, waving one hand about. One hand that happened to have a sword in it. "Shoot him," Tika told her son as she let fly one arrow, puncturing the man's leather tunic, turning his sounds into guttural shouts even as he grasped the shaft of the arrow, struggling to pull it out as Tika aimed once more, giving her son a chance to shoot, despite his positioning on the branch. She had faith in him. Anything was possible. How many times had he watched his mother actually hang upside down from a tree branch to fire her bow and strike a moving target? He could certainly do it sitting...

[Akuaysun]

Teris sat silently as his mother commended him, he had at least answered her second round correctly, but it was easier than any other question, she had deliberately pointed out the objects to him. Taking another bite of his melon, he simply sat chewing, his eyes wandering about as they enjoyed the moment as a pair. In his mind the boy wondered how long this could last, how long it would be until it was his job to scour these jungles, and insure all was well. It was the way of things after all, and in all reality he could likely count the number of years on his fingers. As she began to question him yet again the boy let out a slow soft sigh, he loved being in the jungle but at times it seemed so tedious. He wondered what it was like to live outside the jungle, what it would be like not to be of the Myrian blood.

As if on cue there came an unusual pause at the end of the question. Teris’s eyes shot about the area before him, not sure if he was to answer or if something was misplaced. It was not often that his mother was caught off guard, and for her to suddenly break away from his exercises meant trouble could be unreasonably near. Glancing to his mother as she pulled her bow, he traced her line of site, taking another bite of the fruit as he spotted the movement as well. He chewed slowly, taking the last bite of the slice into his mouth and then wiping his hands slowly on the cloth he wore about his waist. The sound of cracking branches distantly filled the air whilst something fought to break through the foliage. It was something that was not accustomed to the area, not moving along the paths or slinking through the vines. No this was definitely something foreign, even when a Myrian got lost they didn’t make that much noise. Ter let off a whistle that was a common greeting between the warriors of the jungle, he was certain he wouldn’t be receiving an answer but the boy was still young, and accustomed to the teachings of the family. To Myrians the calls and whistles were a second language one they were taught from birth, a way to communicate that outsiders simply shrugged off.

As the pale skinned broke into sight, the boy’s sharp eyes narrowed. The fool was already dead; he just didn’t have the sense to realize it yet. The heavy bass tone of his mother’s bow sent chills up the boy’s spine. It was the low tone of death, the last thing most would ever hear, it resounded throughout the jungle and with its long pulsing waves alone sent the animals around them into flight. He heard the words in their native tongue rolling off his mother’s lips as the thick shaft of her arrow pierced his breast, a scream of pain filling the air. Had she missed? Hardly, she wanted the man alive, likely to question before she took the air from his lungs. Instinctively Ter’s small hands had already pulled the short bow from his shoulders and were fetching an arrow as his mother strung her second. She paused, he was sighted in but she paused, it was a sign to the boy, she wanted to see what he could accomplish in these circumstances.

Thin, muscular arms caught the string with his fingertips and drew back as the young Myrian pulled a breath into his lungs. He had watched his mother shoot for countless hours; he hoped that now as she put faith into him, he could make the shot she had placed into his care. His arms were perhaps a bit too straight as he drew back, it made his arrow quiver slightly as he held the full draw. His emerald orb stared down the shaft and tried to aim the projectile around the horses head, toward the shoulder that held the sword. He paused for the shortest of moments, and released his breath, his body relaxing and the pads of his fingers sliding free of the drawn string. He heard the higher twang of his bow as it loosed the arrow, and he watched to see where it would land. He watched with anticipation, with curiosity as to where his weapon would fall.

[Cayenne]

No answering whistle or call came back when the boy whistled, nor could one have been forthcoming. While each Myrian learned as a child their communications, meant to confuse and confound outsiders, outsiders took them for the shrill sounds of birds from overhead... never knowing that darker-skinned beings clad in leather and bone and linen watched and positioned themselves, moving stealthily through the thick vegetation that they lived in their entire life, ready to loose some weapon, be it arrow or stone or even piliks, the heavy, short-ranged spear designed to penetrate and pierce. Or maybe exploring parties heard the thunderous tiger roarers that radiated from village from village to village, scout to scout, casting the airborne warnings and sending news for those who cared to listen.

As the man pulled at the arrow embedded in his chest, his horse pranced and let loose alarmed neighs. War horses were stoic, but the tangled, twisted jungle was hardly easy for it to charge in, and the beast's nerves were likely on the edge from the unfamiliar territory, the screaming and snarling predators, the heat and the rains. The horse was ready to throw its rider and take off, plunging as it was. As the man tried to get the arrow from his chest, he had to fight with his own horse. Teris' own arrow struck the beast's shoulder, sending it rearing, and its rider tumbling onto the ground, only for the reins to catch and knot on the tree branches, forcing it to weave in place, unable to pull itself free from everything around it. There was a muffled gasp accompanied by a groan of pain from the man, as the wind was knocked out of him from his rough landing, and Tika nodded. "A good shot," she told her son, pleased. With a kick of long, strong legs she sent the remnants of their snack into a bush before slowly bringing her arrow back in. She could just as easily pull it back if she needed, but now their quarry was already on the ground. Still, the arrow was kept near on the string as Tika dropped to the ground, avoiding the horse. "Leave the beast alive. We'll take it with us to Jocoto, and skin it there. The dogs and cats will eat well tonight."

She approached the foreign trespasser, who was shouting in a gurgled, garbled tongue. Ter could tell that his speech was impeded by the blows he had taken in the fall, not to mention the arrow he had almost worked out. "It's safe to approach," Tika told her son, never taking her eyes off of the human. If he was going to use some of their strange magics, he would have by now rather than fall and worry the arrow, so she wasn't overly worried about such a thing. But at the first sign... The man found another arrow in his face, as she demanded something in the human's language. The boy knew, roughly translated, it meant 'how many of you are there'. He didn't entirely know all of the strange northerners' speech, but he would learn it yet. A few of their number had learned it from those that lived far beyond the jungle, and passed the knowledge around. The man gave an answer that clearly wasn't to his mother's liking.

"He said he will not tell me," Tika translated for her son's benefit. "That we will go to our graves not knowing which of his friends will kill us." The man spat blood and saliva at her, and his mother calmly and effortlessly stomped on the man's ankle. Even through the riding boots, Ter heard the very audible cracks that signified broken bones, even as the man cursed. That was definitely a curse, wasn't it? More than one. "We break the ankle joint. Without healing, he'll never stand on it properly again." Not that that mattered. The man wasn't going anywhere. Tika repeated her question in the northerner's tongue. The man cursed at her again, and lost his other foot for his defiance.

His screams echoed through the canopy, causing a few colourful hookbills to take to the air.

Tika didn't care to repeat herself, but she once again asked the question. The man was trying to curl up on himself, having rolled onto his side, his knees together. He looked like one of those spiny beasts that balled itself up in an attempt to protect itself from further injuries. The man mumbled something. Tika struck his midsection with her booted foot, causing him to splutter a bloody vapour. The man repeated himself. "He says no more. But he lies. Do you smell the stench of cat's piss? You will smell that on liars. There are probably more of his kind... already going to Dira. If not, they will be." she straightened, and glanced at her son. "Cut his throat. And then we will have an anatomy lesson."

[Akuaysun]

Teris watched the anticipated moment as the string snapped back to its maximum length with a dull twang of release. Its sound softly reverberated as its projectile cut through the air at its anticipated target. It was low of what the boy had hoped for however, his arm having jerked down slightly upon release. Where he had been aiming for the man’s sword shoulder he instead was rewarded with piercing his beast of burdens hide. The creature let out a shrill scream as it reared back, its hooves dancing momentarily as its former occupant was slung to the ground. The dull thud and moan was enough for Teris to know the man wouldn’t be moving so soon and his eyes traced the horse as it attempted to run but was cut short in the endeavor by the thick foliage of the jungle.

Although his mother was pleased enough with the action the boy was conversely very disappointed with his shot. If that was all the better he could do, when it came to their learning in school he would most likely be at a disadvantage. Teris made a note that he would have to practice the bow before class shifted to projectile weapons as his mother predicted. At least for him, second place was not an option he would allow himself to sit in more than a few times, and third was not an option at all, not when he planned to make his grandmother change her laws.

Tika wasted little time moving from their perch to the ground and then to their prey where she paused to inspect. Teris followed suit, pulling the bow over his shoulder as he waited a few steps back from his mother while she began her interrogation. He moved a few steps closer but still stayed out of reach as she began shouting at him, and staying well clear of her strikes as the sickly sound of bone snapping filled the air followed by the deep gurgling screams of the man.

Shortly she seemed to have taken all she cared to know from the man, and was now done with him. Teris did not argue or hesitate as he was given the command. Jumping forward to the man’s back side the boy dropped his knee into the man’s shoulder from behind, forcing his body over while his hand yanked back a handful of hair. His free hand quickly pulled his iron dagger from its sheathe and stabbed into the soft flesh just in front of the spine. In one fell swoop he pushed the blade outward while pulling the hair back as hard as his small hands could bear and let the edge cut the knife free while the blood spurted out and filled his severed trachea.

He paused, wiping the blade on the victims clothes before sheathing it and looking to Tika for what she intended to do next.

[Cayenne]

Tika felt nothing but deep satisfaction as her young son ended the trespasser's life. She could have done it, but she was well-versed in the killing arts. She had killed enough, and had no qualms about killing more of them. The foreigners would know that anyone who set foot in their jungle had guaranteed their own death. For all the years that there had been enforced peace and alliance amongst the jungle tribes, old habits died hard. They were used to killing. They had did it often. They had respect for life, and they had respect for death - and the fact that death was the decider. But Teris was young. He had killed his share of animals, and he had seen his family kill others. He knew how to kill. But Tika wanted to reinforce that lesson.

With a satisfied nod, she reached out and ruffled her son's hair, smiling at him before turning the twitching man over and onto his back. "The blood will go down his throat, where he breathes. He'll choke on it," she told him. "Now," she told him as she crouched there, indicating a space beside her for him to make sure he had an excellent vantage point. "This is a human," she explained to him. "The important things to understand is that they have many differences to us... and how you can turn those differences to your advantage." She raised her voice ever so slightly to be heard over the man's gurgling as his hands clutched uselessly, languidly, at empty air before dropping down to his sides as he finally quieted. "For one thing, see how sweaty he is? Their bodies cannot handle the heat. They don't like it. They breathe heavily, exert themselves... even without covering themselves in everything that that they own."

"Human flexibility is limited by their muscles. They don't have as much flexibility as ours, which is another reason they are poor climbers," Tika was brisk as she rotated the dead man's arm in a half-circle for her son's benefit to give him an idea about the comfortable range of movement. Granted, the man was dead now, and certainly couldn't complain about Tika's treatment of him, not that the Myrian female would have paid any heed to it. It wasn't like she was desecrating the corpse, after all. There was no point in doing that. It was disrespectful to Dira, and there was no point in ruining the food they were going to eat. "The same can be said for the legs. They must strain hard to bend them like we can. Their blood runs in major arteries along here," she tapped the man's thigh before running her finger towards the knee, as if tracing a vein.

"Disable them. Cut here and here," she turned the arm over to show him where some major muscles on the arms were, "to disable them. if they can't use their weapons, usually, they will run. Or bleed to death. That can happen often," Tika was casual. "You can see where I shot him here," she let go of the arm before tapping the man's leather armor where the arrow had pierced it. "I hit a lung. I didn't aim for his heart because I wanted to talk to him. By hitting the lung, they cannot go for too long. Why not?" As she spoke, Tika considered. They'd bring the body to Jocoto. No point in leaving it to waste. Of course, the predators had to eat, too, but, quite frankly, humans had a nice taste to them.

She stood up, then, putting her bow back over her shoulder before deftly snatching the reins of the dark horse, and bringing it over to the corpse of its former rider. She handed Teris the reins to hold before lifting the body, and dumping it over the saddle. "We'll have a look inside of him once we get to Jocoto... so you can see where his organs are, and have a good idea about where you want to hit him. Once you see how they look from the inside, you can get a better idea about where you want to shoot or them," she told him as she took a length of rope from the saddle and swiftly tied the corpse to the tack before taking the reins again. "We'll make good enough time, I imagine. Watch and listen. One of the trespassers has been flushed out. You never know when we'll find another." She started through the trees with her son and their new acquisitions. If all went well, they would be in Jocoto by sundown.