Shaska Driftclaw's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Shaska crouched low in the dry grass, her forked tongue tasting the air. The borderland stretched before her, wide and quiet. She had walked for days searching for a place that no clan owned, a place that might let her stay. Her gazelle legs ached. Her lizard eyes burned. She wanted only a corner of land and the respect of one clan that would stop calling her a freak. Then she saw them. Three termite mounds rose from the cracked earth, taller than any she had ever seen. The largest looked like a palace, with curving towers and tunnels swarming with fat, pale insects. Her stomach twisted with hunger. But between the mounds stood a tower of bones lashed with feathers. It marked the line where one clan's land ended and the rival's began. Past it, dark tents waited in a tight, watching cluster. Both clans claimed these mounds. Neither would share. Shaska pulled her small scoop shovel from her pack. Her hands shook. If she harvested, both clans would hunt her. If she walked away, she would starve before sunset. She thought of every door closed in her face, every child pulled back when she passed. "Fine," she hissed. "Let them be angry. They already hate me." She dug fast and clean. Termites poured into her bucket. But before she could fill it, voices rose from the dark tents. Spears flashed. From the other side, riders thundered toward her too. Both clans had seen her. Shaska grabbed her half-full bucket and ran. The mounds were broken open behind her. Two clans now had a fresh reason to hate each other, and a single name to blame. She had her termites. She had also made herself the most wanted trespasser in the borderland.