Roar, Lioness. Roar

Cold Moves and Secrets

Latisha and Rebel stand outside of the skin-knitter's tent, waiting for the messenger to return with an answer. Children make a game of sweeping piles of sand toward the gates. Their parents are hard at work repairing the damage caused by yesterday's storm. Latisha grudgingly acknowledges her mother's wisdom in choosing the mesa as the site for her people's citadel. While others will need time to dig out and locate things lost to the sands, The Yellow Sun is already prepared to hunt.

Rebel's wavy short-cut hair hangs over her left eye as if fleeing the right side of her scalp, freshly shaved by the ink master, making space for a new tattoo. In the inner sanctum of The Yellow Sun, hunters cast off their abayas with no fear of showing their true selves. Rebel wears a pair of high sandals and a long pashmina skirt that reaches her knees. Aside from a collection of bone and sinew bracelets, the rest of her is as nude as a newborn. The ink master's art has turned her muscled form into a tapestry.

"I'm either going to request a dead squid or cat spots to match these." Rebel gestures to the spot design creating a breastplate following the contours of her chest. "Thoughts?"

"I'm partial to the spots," Latisha says, admiring the ink master's handiwork.

"I know, but I want ink that reminds me of our time in that hole. Dead squids are better than a dark tunnel, but spots better represent the pack."

"I don't like either. They'll ruin you."

Rebel puts an arm across Latisha's shoulder. "I thought we were going to die down there and you saved us. Hmmm, maybe I should just get a little lion."

Latisha shoves her away and takes a swipe at her, laughing as Rebel dodges and takes a few swipes of her own. The bones and beads sewn into the hem of her skit rattle as Latisha maneuvers around, slapping Rebel lightly as she moves into her blindspot. The bigger woman narrows her eyes and lunges forward, grabbing a handful of Latisha's fur-trimmed hide vest. She roughly pulls Latisha forward and steals a playful kiss.

Latisha's pulse quickens as she breaks Rebel's hold, swatting her ear. The two glare at one another as others gather to watch.

"I guess you still like the spots over the other options."

"They are the best option, no?"

The two chuckle and relax. Rebel rubs her cheek and shakes her head. Disappointed, their growing audience disperses. Latisha presses her fingers to her lips. The heat and pressure of Rebel's touch still linger as does the subtle musk of her scent. The embers in her gut, kept doused out of fear of awakening a dangerous inferno, ignite. Latisha turns away, afraid others will see the heat.

When Rebel's strong hand grips her shoulder, Latisha thinks she might explode.

"Huntress! Huntress!" a young runner shouts as she approaches from the other direction.

Latisha takes a deep breath, quelling the flames. Adjusting herself, she turns to meet the girl. The runner is slight and quick, too small to be a hunter.

"What news do you have for me?" Latisha asks.

"The braider will do as you ask."

"And the robes, girl?"

The runner's cheeks dimple as she smiles a mischievous grin. "I have taken them and hidden them somewhere secret."

"Very good." Latisha nods and gives the girl three rifle bullet casings from her pouch. "You will forget what you've done for me until I call for Hadey's abayas to return, yes?"

"Yes, Huntress." She examines the casings before hiding them on her person.

"Take this," Rebel says, handing the girl a large seed. "You can trade it to one of the growers for new sandal straps or a bit of jewelry. If you keep yourself valuable, we can take good care of you."