The Beast Masters

[Vin]

Wilder Wapaw
Cactus Mouse
Young, ~~ Early Twenties

[spoiler]Unbearable desert heat beat at an impatient crowd with all the cold-blooded cruelty of a slavemaster. They watched, with a steady chorus of grumbles, as a mouse waded into the shallows of a lake.

"I left him right here!" Wilder assured, uncomfortably aware of the eyeballs glued to his back.

"I hope you didn't drag us all the way here for nothin'," an aged armadillo spoke for all assembled.

"I assure you Grandmaster, this will be worth your time. I have tamed a beast the likes of which you have never seen before!" He flashed the gathered beasts a grin. "A monster of legend! A force of nature!" Wilder gestured at the water, chuckling nervously. "He's just a little shy."

"Stop wastin' our time!" An elderly raccoon threw down his walking stick in rage, turned away, turned back to pick up the stick, spat, and stormed off. The rest of the crowd followed suite.

"Nonono!" Wilder's paws scrambled at thin air to keep their attention. "Wait! I swear this isn't a joke! I'm serious! Grandmaster, please-"

"Whatever you say, Wapaw, whatever you say," the armadillo sighed, joining the exodus back home.

"This isn't like all those other times!" the mouse insisted. "Those were accidents! Y-you're not still mad about that time with the dreamcatcher, r-right? O-or the skunk incident? Or is it about-"

By the time he was done listing his accidents, the crowd had faded into the horizon.

Wilder sighed. Behind him, a monstrous reptile, easily as large as a small hill, floated to the surface.

Scowling, the mouse turned to face it. "What took you so-"

He was silenced by a sudden gust of wind; the beast's snort; and found to his horror that his expression was mirrored on a much larger face.

"'Force of nature?' 'Monster of legend?' De 'beast ya tamed?' Tamed!?" The alligator's tail beat a tidal wave out of the water; nearly drowning the mouse. "Ya told me ah was a GOD! Not sum obedient pet!"

Dripping wet and sputtering for breath, Wilder scrambled onto dry land. "Okay, okay, okay! That was bad! Terrible! Sorry! I'm sorry Kwetzacoatel, OhLordofWhateverabayouis! I-I was just trying to, to er- introduce you in a way that the, the-er puny mortal minds of my clanbeasts could fathom!"

"Oh." The alligator's burning rage turned to smoke. "Dats okay den."

The mouse breathed out a hurricane of relief. Life with his newfound 'God' was full of these little moments of panic.

Kwetzacoatel shook his giant head. "Ya make noooo sense by de way."

Wilder frowned, wringing water out of his ears. "How so?" 

"Should ah speak de language of de Deides or 'phrase id in a way yore padetic mortal mind would understand?'" he grinned impishly, flaunting his impressive collection of pearly white teeth.

"I'd prefer the latter. And you've been spending too much time around me."

"Ah 'ave!" The alligator's eyes bulged in realization. "You is a baaaaad influence!"

Wilder shrugged.

"Anyways, while ah was watchin' ya make an idiot of yourself, ah saw dat yore padetic mortal pals were... how do ah put dis gentille-like?"

"Uninterested, irritated, downright hostile?" the mouse offered.

The alligator nodded sympathetically. "While it's true dat ya talk too much and deliver too liddle, ah can't understand why ya- moi Chosen One!- would want to impress cridders dat don't even like ya."

"But that is exactly why I want to impress them!" Wilder huffed. "Look, you have always looked down upon those beneath you- asyoushouldOhHeavenlyBeing-  but I spend every moment of my life being looked down upon. And after so much time at the bottom, I'd like to be on top."

"An' ya need me for dis," Kwetzacoatel summarised, nodding to himself. "Coz yore noffin' alone."

"Yes, I do." Wilder clasped his paws as if in prayer. "Please?"

"...Fiiiiiiiiine." The reptile lowered his head.

"Just don't say a word, let me do the talking." Slipping on wet scales, the mouse clambered on. "Rest assured that you chose wisely."

"Ah 'ope so," the alligator crawled out of the water, and drew himself up to his full height. "Ah would hate to 'ave to eatcha."

The mouse paused. "You know... that may be the nicest thing anybeast has ever said to me."

"It's coz ya got no meat on ya," the God grumbled. "Yore jussda bundle of fluff an' lies! Lies!"

Wilder shrugged, reclining against a ridge and folding his arms behind his head. "Still the nicest thing anyone has said to me."

It wasn't quite as nice, however, as the looks of horror, awe and shock that met him when he caught up to the crowd on their way home.

"This is Kwetzacoatel!" Wilder, comically small and shouting to be heard, wore the same grin as his mount. "You could say he's my partner-in-crime."  [/spoiler]

Shoklok
Alligator snapping turtle
38 seasons

[spoiler]Shoklok clicked a claw, and the Twigs echoed with their paws. He smiled and bowed to the group, and the Twigs sat on the grass and crossed their legs.

"Clear skies," he greeted.

"Day greetings, Trunk," the Twigs answered.

His eyes rolled in the sockets as he looked at each of the young creatures under his ward. Today was an exciting day—a day that didn't have many like it: their group was adding a new member. As such, a palpable, nervous energy ran through the Twigs, and they strained for their focus.

The two youngest—a gangly hare called Spile, and a raccoon named Kylei—leaned forward and sniffed at the stranger who crouched in front of Shoklok's scaled knees. Spile's good ear twitched, and he stamped his left footpad in an excited frenzy. "Who'zat?" Spile asked.

"Ah," Shoklok admonished. He raised a claw and whistled through his nostril, changing the harmonious tone through his exhale and claw position over the hole.

Spile lowered his head and nodded in remembrance. He scrunched his face and worked on his delivery. "Sorry. W—who is...is...that?"

Shoklok nodded to Spile and put a reassuring claw on the shoulder of the young creature. "Twigs, the warm bright brought us a neighbor-to-be-brother." He sucked in his inhale and slowly bent towards the younger. "Tell us what you're called," the snapper encouraged.

The wildcat rubbed a paw at his left ear and closed his eyes. <Don't want to,> he mewed.

Shoklok rumbled deep in the back of his throat, a moderate yowl that trailed to silence. <What's wrong?> he whispered in Wilder.

The wildcat hissed his inhales and moved his paw to his eyes. <Scared,> he mewed.

Kylei snorted from her crouch and threw a pawful of dirt at the cat. <What's wrong with him?> she chattered in the Racca tongue.

Shoklok whined a high-pitched warning from his nostril, and blew hard towards Kylei. "The Trunk speaks in Natural, and the Twigs reply," he said slowly as he locked eyes with each of his wards.

"We hear and see you," the Twigs answered collectively. The eldest Twig, an older adolescent otter called Robe, tapped the bottom of his staff against Kylei's back and frowned at her when she grimaced and looked for the perpetrator.

"He is young, and is new to us," Shoklok continued, a gentle claw of reassurance resting on the wildcat's nape. "As you've learned your role and place, he will." The snapper raised a claw to his brow to shield the glare of the burning sun, and shrugged his spiky shell higher on his concealed shoulders. "He is called Bae, son of Folds, chieftan of a clan from the bumpy greens. I fought his father on the flats behind us during the dark, and slew him." He nodded to Thner the fox, who grinned his pointed teeth at Shoklok. The snapper turned the wildcat around and hoisted him up. He knew, with a strike of his beak, he could tear the child's head from his body. And yet, as his starry eyes scanned the deep emerald of the boy he held, he felt something else entirely. He brought the child close to him in an embrace, and rested his chin atop the child's head as he stroked his back.

<Your father was brave,> Shoklok spoke to the wildcat, in the child's native tongue. <He fought beyond his means and drew blood. You are to remember him with strength and honor.> He breathed in the scent of the wildcat called Bae, and released the embrace. "I am yours now, and you are mine. I welcome you."

Shoklok raked a single claw down Bae's cheek. He hissed as blood broke the surface of the cut.

"He is our master, our trunk," Robe the otter started.

"And we are his twigs," Khikett the rainbow salamander finished.

"He is Bae," Shoklok said to the Twigs. The wildcat held a paw to his hurt cheek as the other youngers traced similar scars on their cheeks and held their paws open towards Bae. "Take him to the shade for eat and drink; I'll call on you all when the bright warm falls to the trees."

Shoklok turned towards the other snappers gathering near the creek—Shakhak and Shikkich had already entered the water—but stopped at the touch on his shell. He turned to see Bae behind him, and bent down to the wildcat.

"Bae," he greeted.

The wildcat wrapped his arms around the snapper's neck and rubbed his cheek against Shoklok's.

<Thank,> Bae whispered.

<Welcome,> Shoklok whispered back with a smile. He laughed—a deep, gravel-laden thunder—as he hoisted the younger onto his shell. "Come, young warrior...let's see what swims in this wet that we can catch and eat, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Bae cried.[/spoiler]

Fernando
Nine Banded Armadillo
19 years

[spoiler]Fernando kicked a pebble off the road and far into the scrub. "It's fishfur! I won't do it!"

The beasts nearby jumped and moved to give him a wide berth. Fernando glared at them in return.

The armadillo continued to stomp down the road, a cloud of dust trailing after him. He was nearing Lost Butte and could hear the Great River rushing in the distance.

The sun was setting, a great ball of orange dropping behind the distant mountains, when Fernando caught his first glimpse of Lost Butte. He couldn't help but stop to marvel at the size of the city.

It was nestled on the banks of the Great River on the side of a huge cliff. The adobe buildings sat squat in the fading light, but there were more of them than the armadillo had ever seen before. He knew that it had been a major center for the Gila; but he could never have imagined this. Five of his hometown could fit here.

Just outside of the city, separate but still a part of it, rose a building taller and slimmer than the rest. It was surrounded by pastures dotted with sheep, goats, peccaries, burros, and a few bison. There were also fields filled with crops: maize, tomatoes, beans, and the ever-present chili peppers.

It was here that Fernando was headed. The Beast Masters' Guild.

Just two days prior, he had gone through his Convocation Ceremony at the guild in Sandyflats. A small outpost town, there had only been four graduates. Fernando was, by far, the most skilled Beast Master in his class. The others had been set to work as fishers and pest control. He had been assigned to the town guard. It was important work, of course, but Nando felt it was beneath him.

As a Class 3 Beast Master, he was qualified to work with all animals in the lower classes as well, but his main job would've been to join the guard with their small host of venomous arachnids. Mostly, that would mean sitting in the guard house near the entrance to town, bored to tears because nothing ever happened. But Sandyflats had no way to test his skills beyond Class 3. They didn't have any creatures that ranked any higher.

So Fernando had abandoned his post and set off for Lost Butte.

He flashed his guild badge at the entrance and made his way to the Maestro's office. Once there, he was greeted by an assistant who helpfully informed him that Maestro Sanchez was outside taking his daily constitutional, but, "if you'd just like to wait here, it shouldn't be long until he returns."

Fernando huffed and swept out of the office before she had a chance to stop him. Outside, Nando scanned the landscape and found the Maestro next to the pastures.

"Maestro Sanchez, buenas noches. I'm Fernando. I've come from Sandyflats."

"Buenas noches, Brother. I wasn't aware the guild in Sandyflats was sending anybeast. My apologies. Why are you here?"

The armadillo steeled himself. "They didn't send me, Maestro. I came to ask you to further test my skills. I tested as a Class 3 Beast Master, but I know I can do more."

"You abandoned your guild?" The Maestro looked at him sharply.

"Lo siento, Maestro. But I had to." Fernando rushed to explain himself. "I was assigned to guard duty. But I am better than that. I know I can do more good if just given a chance. Sandyflats doesn't even have a Class 4 beast to test me with. You have to test me!"

"You know that isn't possible. Once your Class is determined, you know that that is it."

"But that's not fair!" Fernando fumed. "Just because I come from a backwater town doesn't mean I should be stuck! You have to test me!"

"Brother Fernando! That is not how the guild works. I am sorry that your town does not need a Beast Master beyond a Class 3, but guild law is clear. You will return to Sandyflats at first light or you will be found in contempt of our bylaws. ¿Entiende usted?"

Fernando didn't answer. He simply turned towards the pasture beside them and began chanting.

A low rumble shook the earth.

"What are you doing?" the Maestro cried.

Nando simply continued to chant. One of the huge bison crested the small hill in front of him, charging straight for the wood fence that separated the pair from the beast.

"¡Para! It will trample us!"

Just before the beast crashed through the fence, Fernando changed his chant, and the bison stopped abruptly. The armadillo stopped, and the bison looked around and returned to grazing.

Fernando turned back to the Maestro who was drained of all color.

"But that would mean..."

"Yes, Maestro."[/spoiler]

Timbones Oldburrow
Antelope Squirrel
18
[spoiler]Within a burrow in a desert scrubland sat an old antelope squirrel, rocking back and forth in her chair as she finished scrawling the last few words on a piece of parchment paper. Beside her sat a firefly lantern and an empty chair. "Oh where is that boy?" she said to herself. No sooner had she said so than a youthfully handsome head popped in from around the entrance.

"There you are Timbones - how could you keep your old aunt waiting like that eh?"

"Sorry Aunty Olna - I was tending to the death-feigning beetles. Samson seems to have a lame leg."

"Oh does he now? Well that's too bad, it'll have to heal up if you hope to travel with him!"

"Don't worry Aunty, Samson and Delilah will accompany us on our journey to the North
whatever it takes."

At this statement the old one's mood seemed to drop to the floor. She fidgeted with her quill pen and manuscript, making a few swirling doodles.

"Aunty Olna, what's wrong? Don't tell me you're afraid to make the trip all of a sudden? Or is it Uncle Norris, is he arguing again?"

Onla bit the tip of her quill pen. "Timbones Oldburrow - your uncle and I have decided that you will have to experience this adventure on your own."

Now Tim was the one to kook dismayed - in fact utterly confused. "But - no Aunty! No you can't! There's no food here - that's why everyone's leaving! I can't just let you stay here and starve!"

"Not enough food for you maybe - but Norris and I don't need much. We'll make do for the time that we have left in this world."

Tim was adamant. "But, but why? Why stay here when you could go north with the Ring - with me! I'm not leaving you behind, I'll stay with you if I must!"

"Hush child!" she scolded. "Do you think that Norris or I are capable of making such a journey? Have you considered the pain it might inflict on us? We have lived together in this burrow for many seasons, even seasons long before you came to live with us! We've found peace, and to uproot us would only cause us harm!"

She stopped for a moment, realizing how fiery she could still be even in olden age. Timbones was looking at the floor, apparently ashamed by his own thoughtlessness.

"Now now child, don't look so glum. We'll be fine here - perhaps even live to see you return someday. But until then-" she slid the manuscript into Tim's left paw - his only paw. "This will guide you on your way."

Tim took the object cautiously and leafed through its pages, trying to make out his aunt's shaky handwriting. When he finally understood, he could hardly contain himself. "But Aunty! These are your secrets - the beast rituals of your clan from the East! Everything that you've taught me and-"

"And so much more," she cut him off. "The knowledge in that book will earn you the respect of your peers - and probably save all of your lives once or twice."

But the young ground squirrel looked apprehensive. "I don't know if I'm... if I'm ready for this yet..."

"Ready? Of course not! You never will be. You just gotta start! And I've seen you do great things with what you already know - you care for the beetles, summon snakes, heck you even rode a scorpion once!"

"Yes but its stinger had been removed... and the snakes were just garter snakes."

"No matter!" she rapped her cane on the ground. "Point is: you can do a lot of things with what knowledge you have now, an' everything else you need to know is in that book! So read it!" she stood up in her enthusiasm, almost falling back into her chair. Timbones jumped up to stabilize her. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" she insisted.

Now both on their paws, the two squirrels regarded each other, realizing that this would be one of the last moments that they had together.

"I will read it Aunty - every last word, I promise!"

"Good," she nodded. "I take it then you've agreed to go without need of further bickering eh?"

"I... I still can hardly bear the thought of leaving you and Uncle behind... but I will honor your wish."

Olna put a paw on her nephew's shoulder - it was a cold paw. "I know you will - you've always been so obedient, so unquestioning. As good a son as any mother could hope to have, let alone an Aunt. I can't help but wonder though-" she removed her paw and pulled her shawl tight against a draft. "Just how much the trail will grow you..."

"Oh I'm sure I'll grow plenty Aunty - I'll even eat my greens!"[/spoiler]