Planet: Klogol Location: Sseren Desert, I'nik tribe The I'nik tribe had lived in the Sseren Desert for generations. They were a private people, masters of hunting and tanning, and had been self-sufficient for decades. They seldom visited the civilizations in their neighboring climates; the plains to the north, the seas to the west and south, and the mountains to the east. Alone in their warm cradle of sand, the hunters were content. Their village surrounded a small pond, the dozen or see foot tall trees that sprouted around it their only natural shade. Mud huts and leather tipis spotted the sand around one side of the blue water, and a few had awnings made of either dried vegetation or woven blankets, propped up with sticks or well piled mud poles. Clay pots decorated the outside of the majority of the homes, each household's possessions of grain, water, or whatever else kept safe within. On the other side of the pond, squares of small plants were organized as close to the water they could get. Little grew in the harsh heat, but for a culture that dined primarily on hunted game, the small variety of vegetables available was more than enough. Some mile away from the village, the hunting party lay on their bellies on the warm ground, their eyes scanning the herd of sand hippos; potbellied, pony-sized creatures with flat noses, spikey tails, and webbed feet. They were named after their similarity to the water hippo in the way they managed to burrow themselves into the sand with only their noses above ground to keep cool in the heat while they slept. Once they burrowed, it was near impossible to dig them out, and the hunting part scanned the herd for a target they believed would be easy. There were three males; short and grey hippos, and four females; larger and reddish beasts with skin too hard for their arrows, and one calf; a paunchy thing that hopped and jumped comically around its mother. “The big on on the right?” Mithi asked in a soft whisper, inquiring about which of the hippos they'd target. “The middle one is larger.” Aarav voice. “He might also be quicker.” Enoch pointed out, her face angled toward the group. “Not if we take him down quick.” “'If'.” Enoch repeated, but she knew they could manage it. “Aim for the front feet first. Disable it.” “Yup.” Slowly, the six of them rose to their knees, the sand burning their skin, all aiming their bows at the large male. “On my count.” Aarav said softly, and when he gave the command, the arrows flew, striking the hippos legs with precision. Its angry, pain-filled shriek echoed across the dunes, sending the others into a frenzied scatter before they regrouped and trotted comically away. The wounded male immediately began to attempt to burrow itself, only to find its front legs barely responsive. “Second.” Aarav said, focused, and they all raised their bows again and fired on his call, their second volley piercing the hippos hide. It screeched loudly, braying in agony. “Third?” “No!” Enoch dropped her bow and picked up her bone axe. “Not fast enough.” Leaving the others, she jogged toward the screaming beast, her feet sinking in the sand. When she drew close, the hippo abandoned its sad crying and tried to bite at her, its disc like teeth brown and short. Without hesitation, Enoch raised her axe and swung it hard, sinking it into the beast's skull with a wet-sounding thud, spraying Enoch with its bright red blood. The beast went still instantly, its screaming falling silent. “God of the Hunt, we thank you for this Gift you've given us.” Enoch said, blood dripping from her nose. “Goddess of Life, forgive us this Child we've taken from you.” The rest of the party jogged closer to her, some carrying smooth, thick poles, the rest carrying ropes. “That's a good look for you.” Aarav grinned flirtatiously at Enoch as she wiped the bitter blood from her lips. In response, she flicked her arm, sending droplets from her axe across her companion's front. “Now you match.” She smirked back as Aarav rubbed his eyes. “Oh, wait til we're home and you two can go enjoy a blood bath.” Valci grumbled, bending over the hippo to yank the arrows loose. The journey back was a long one. Using the ropes and the poles to carry the beast between then, the six hunters trekked the mile back to their village. Tired and sweating, they delivered the hippo to the skinner and went to the banks of the water to sit. Enoch walked in until her thighs were submerged, bending forward to cup water in her hands and splash on her face. Her long black braid fell over her shoulder and sunk into the water, the curly ends of her strands relaxing in the water. She was the only villager to have hair that curled softly at the ends, her hair too thick and heavy to curly overall. A gift from her father, she knew. I'nik's were a rather private people, and seldom every welcomed outsiders, let alone reproduced with them. But Leili, Enoch's mother, often spoke fondly of the man she only called 'Pohactus'. According to her mother, the traveler had arrived one night under cover of darkness, without only an empty water skin and a weapon. The latter, he'd offered to Leili, who was instantly impressed. I'nik men presented women they fancied with weapons in order to initiate courtship, and Pohactus's weapon was much more deadly looking than any of the bone and wood weapons the I'niks usually had. The beast of a war axe, made of smooth looking metal, still hung on the wall of her hut, where it had been for the last thirty years. He'd left again, shortly after Enoch was born. The village had often whispered about it, but Leili had never once seemed to be angry with him. In fact, five years ago when she fell ill and knew she was close to death, she only smiled happily about being that much closer to having her Pohactus back. Enoch had never met the man. Or at least, she couldn't remember him. When she was six, she held out her thin arm beside her mother's and asked why she wasn't as dark. Leili had said because her father was not a dark man, like the men of the village. So Enoch began to observe the others. Everyone had dark brown skin, straight, thick black hair, and soft brown eyes. Enoch knew her hair curled, more when it was shorn short, and when she'd asked her mother what color her eyes were, if they were like the rest of the village or like her father's, Leili had answered that Enoch's eyes were green as grass. As a child, Enoch had enjoyed her appearance, if not only because of the look on her mother's face when she was looking at Enoch. Now, after her mother's death, Enoch felt more isolated than anything else. Not alone, per se, as she had friends, and, when she felt so inclined, a lover. But she couldn't help but feel different.