The Bone Rattlers (Heat #2)

[Vin]

Wenona
Canadian Lynx
20 years

[spoiler]Wenona stared at the bones that lay across the tanned hide on the table. She had seen them so many times, but this time was different. The bones shimmered.

The lynx blinked. It was still there.

She squeezed her eyes shut until tears threatened to overflow. The refracted light refused to budge.

"Well, this is strange." The hawk across the table clacked her beak.

Wenona's head snapped up. "What is?" She wondered if the bird could also see the lights emanating from the bones. Biskane certainly wasn't shimmering.

"Well, dear, the bones aren't clear today. Are you sure you're concentrating on your question?"

"Of course I am! Can we try again?"

The aging Bone Rattler sighed and swept the bones back into her pouch. "Once more, Wenona. We have the feast to prepare for."

The lynx shifted in her seat, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She listened to the soft clacking of the bones as Biskane gently shook the bag. Will I marry Mikom?

The bones clattered as they spilled across the table. Will I marry Mikom? She released the breath she had been holding and opened her eyes. The bones shimmered in her vision once again.

~~

The bonfire roared in the middle of the village. Wenona's stomach growled as she sniffed the meat roasting on its spit.

This was Mikom's first hunt, and he had come back with the other Walkers, triumphantly hauling a large moose, among other game. The Long Dark had been hard, and left the tribe lean. The rivers carried more ice in them and flowed swifter than ever before; fish were carried downstream faster than they could be caught. Tonight's First Feast was a celebration that had been hard-earned, and Wenona couldn't keep her eyes from straying to the heroes of the hunt, Mikom in particular.

"Wenona, stop staring." Aniib giggled and poked her in the ribs. "He's going to catch you!"

Wenona dragged her eyes back to her friend's face. The young girls broke into a fit of giggles again. Grabbing Aniib's paw, Wenona dragged her to join the ring of dancers around the fire.

The drums beat out a joyful rhythm. Wenona's heart thudded along with it, her paws barely making a sound on the packed earth as she stomped and twirled, losing herself to the music. The fire crackled, settled, and sparks flew to the heavens. The lynx followed them with her eyes, throwing her head back to laugh at the stars.

The song reached its conclusion, and the council moved in towards the fire as the dancers melted away into the surrounding beasts. A hush fell over the village as the elders gathered close to the spit to give thanks for the bountiful feast.

The matriarchs of all the major families made up the council, and they made decisions for the tribe together. The tribe's Bone Rattler was the only exception. She was devoted to guiding the tribe as a whole, and thus could never marry or have a family. Doomed to a solitary life..

Biskane stepped forward, and the rest of the tribe joined paws. Wenona felt the pads of another lynx touching her paw. She turned, and her eyes met Mikom's. Both quickly looked away, blushing.

"Great Spirits, we give thanks to Brother Moose and his brethren for their sacrifice tonight. May they go in peace, knowing that their lives have been given to sustain ours. Their bodies nourish us, clothe us, house us, protect us. Spirits, we live, and we never forget." As she finished the blessing, the hawk lowered her wings, and paws were dropped. The feast began.

Once the bones were cleaned, Biskane placed the shoulder bone of the moose into the flames. Here, it would heat until cracking, and the Great Reading could begin. Until then, Wenona and the others filled their plates and ate until they could eat no more.

Wenona and Aniib were seated at the edge of the bonfire. "I can't just go-"

CRRAACKKK!

A quiet settled into the night air. The hawk pulled the bone from the fire and set it on the stone slab in front of her. She poured blood into the cracks. Tonight, Biskane would be reading the tribe's future for the upcoming cycle of seasons.

Wenona watched as she bent low over the bone, tracing a feather along the lines. Her head jerked up and she stared into Wenona's eyes. The lynx squirmed.

"Friends," the hawk began, "tonight is indeed an auspicious night. The bones have chosen our next Bone Rattler!"

Wenona's fur stood on end. Excited murmurs passed through the crowd.

Again, Biskane's eyes pierced her. "Wenona has been Chosen-"

The lynx froze. She didn't hear the rest. Couldn't hear over the roaring in her ears.

My life. My whole life. Gone.[/spoiler]

Marrow
Spotted Skunk
24 years old

[spoiler]A droning, indiscernible chant echoed in the dark as a piquant odor roused the Ice-walker from unconsciousness. A dancing shadow played upon the canvas of the tent, cast by campfire-light outside. Incense hung thick in the dim interior. When a spotted skunk leaned forward into the candlelight, the Ice-walker spoke.

"Where am I? Who are you?" he asked.

"Easy friend. I found your party among the floes and brought you here. I'm Marrow."

"Are they well?" Marrow gazed downward, shaking his head. The Ice-walker understood. "Thank you. I'm Jhoti Tusktaker."
Jhoti watched the shadow twist against the tent. "What happened?"

"I hoped you'd recall", said Marrow, gesturing to the steaming meal set between them.

The Ice-Walker declined, straining to untangle his memories. "We tracked the Longtusk for weeks along the frozen sea. The fight was fierce." Jhoti trailed off, watching the silhouette again. Its chanting was distracting.

"He's just cold.", said Marrow. An offered blanket recalled Jhoti's attention.

Jhoti ignored it and continued. "The thin ice broke. Omahk and Teewoo were crushed between floes. Weddah... trapped beneath the ice. I... watched her fade." Jhoti touched his branded forearm, four lines ringed by a circle. The incense tasted acrid now.

"Were you close?"

"My pack are... were family."

"Family.", Marrow mused longingly, "I'm sorry, friend."

Jhoti sat speechless.

"Jhoti?" The Ice-walker looked at Marrow. "Do you remember making it ashore?"

Jhoti frowned. "I swam until it burned. Then I was numb. The dark, I-" Jhoti stopped, looking desperately into Marrow's eyes. He squeezed his brand. "How many of my pack did you find?"

The droning hummed unaccompanied momentarily. Marrow glanced regretfully at Jhoti's brand.

"Four."

A biting gust passed unheeded through the tent.

"I have to get home! My daughter-"

"I'm sorry."

Jhoti sat back, looking at the unwanted food and blanket. "Are... you also dead?"

"Not yet."

"How do you see me? Speak to me?"

The skunk looked at the silhouette that chanted outside. "With... much effort."

Jhoti's eyes widened, watching the shadow convulse. "You're a Rattler, aren't you?"

Marrow kept watching his own shadow dance against the tent. "I ferry the lingering."

Jhoti nodded. The incense felt cloying. They stepped out onto the icy shore nearby, gazing into the night sky, the spirit paths glowing softly above.

"What now, Rattler?"

"You let go. The ancestor's paths now lay open to you."

Tears filled Jhoti's eyes. "Do one thing for me, Marrow?"

"Yes."

The Ice-Walker reached into his shirt, removing an ivory pendant. "Give this to my daugh-", he hesitated, realizing the pendant was incorporeal.

The Rattler's aspect reached out, taking it anyway. "She will know you asked me to."

Taking one last deep breath, Jhoti closed his eyes, his damp cheeks unfrozen. Glowing like the paths above, he rose toward the sky and disappeared into the glittering snowy wind that blew out to sea.

Marrow watched for a time. Ferrying a soul never got easier. He looked down at his empty paw. It did feel more important, however. More meaningful.

Sighing solemnly, He returned to the fire outside the tent and looked down at the skunk who sat undulating beside it, dressed in its Bone Rattler regalia. A still uncanny sight. With one more look back to the empty shoreline, Marrow leapt into the fire.

In a flash of green flame and heat, the Bone-Rattler awoke with a gasp. At this, a figure emerged into the firelight carrying a steaming skein.

"Drink, friend", she said. The buttery milk was reinvigorating.

"Well?" came a second, mordant voice from beyond the campfire. "Did the unspeaking spill their secrets?"

The Bone Rattler's eyes adjusted, finding his second companion, who had just wrapped the last of the four bodies.

"Ruka, leash your tongue!", the first spat, giving Marrow his parka.

"Please, Koga, allow me.", Marrow insisted, swaddling himself. "They did. The ice is thinning even here. That's why the villages flood."

Ruka scowled, the firelight playing across the red paw-mark encompassing his face. The mark of his and Koga's order. "And you know this just from..." Ruka mocked the skunk's ritual undulations.

Marrow smirked.

"Kastor damn your derision, Ruka!" Koga growled.

"We don't need this witchcraft, Koga."

"Search the first body", Marrow interjected, "You'll find an ivory charm."

The knights exchanged glances and Koga obeyed. She gasped, revealing the foreseen
charm.

Ruka dismissed this with a wave. "Many wear wards, it means nothing. I'm
breaking camp. You can stay and dance with this babbler."

Koga handed the charm to Marrow. "Forgive his ignorance."

The Skunk thumbed the charm thoughtfully. "I do not begrudge the blind for being sightless."

He pocketed the pendant and stood. "We must return and speak of what we have learned."

Marrow looked at Jhoti's gently snow-dusted form.

"But there is one stop I must make on the way."[/spoiler]

Haar
Sea Otter
Approximately 20

[spoiler]   The crowd watched intently, the only sounds amongst them the crackle of the fire in the centre of the circle and the howling rush of a winter's gale outside the darkened cabin. Kneeling beside the fire was a young otter, Haar, his face hidden beneath a coyote skull, attached with nearly invisible strings to various bones decorating his entire body, every move making the bones rattle. Fitting, as he was a bone rattler; a seer of the Whitelands, who heard to the Song of All That Live hidden in the emptiness between the eerie sounds of rattling bones.
   Tap, clatter.
   Tap, clatter.
   The otter tapped his foot, making his bony regalia clack together ominously; the Song had begun, he simply had to dance to its tune, and dance he did. At first it was slow, just tapping his foot, then slowly shuffling his body, before taps became steps, shuffles became spins, and then he was whirling and weaving around the fire, still stamping, still clattering, all eyes on him as he was lost in the dance.
   Haar strained, perking his ears, his heart pounding as his tempo grew ever more heated, every step and clatter making the Song more powerful, more insistent, trying to share its message with the clan through the otter, as to all but he, all they heard was simply wind, fire, bones, and taps.
   The wind outside was like a banshee's wail, pounding at the doors, begging to be let in, but none stirred from their enraptured gaze as the otter twirled and stomped, so forcefully he was crying out as he did so, his own weak voice joining the song, until with a final bellow Haar collapsed; just as the front doors blew open, snuffing the fire to coals.
   As fast as it had came in, the wind died down, and people began murmuring; was Haar okay? His mentor, the coyote whose skull the otter now wore, had never collapsed like that, was that a sign? Was the wind a sign?
   Rattle rattle.
   They were silenced as the slender otter rose to his shaky paws, raising his hands to the heavens as he looked up.
   "I have heard the Song, and it brings dire news," the otter called out, all the gravitas of his position lost in his shaky voice. "The tundra lies barren, the fish have abandoned our waters, when next the sun sinks for the Endless Dark, the Song of All That Lives ends for our proud kingdom." At this there was an uproar, and it was only when a ragged old hare shouted that Haar was able to continue, "But...there is hope, for the Song promises life and glory, if only we have the courage to enter the Cursed Forest."
   And like that everybeast in the building began shouting; at each other, at Haar, at the Song itself, their fear of dying and of the Cursed Forest overwhelming their sense of rationality, if they had one to begin with. The otter knew this to be his cue to leave, slinking away from the cabin and retreating into the dark night, leaving the old fools to their silly arguments.
   Even Haar could not shake his doubts about the Song though; when his mentor, Asger, the greatest Bone Rattler in the Whitelands, had died it had been long before the end of Haar's training, leaving the otter not only inexperienced but needing to learn much of the intricate art of understanding the Song all by himself. Handpicked from a small fishing village far, far away from the main cities of the Whitelands by the coyote himself, everybody had huge, crushing expectations for the small otter.
   Haar crept into the storehouse, unworried by its dearth of stores as he searched for his goal; a char. He found one, one of the last few left in this storehouse, and took it. He brought it to one of the currently empty communal kitchens and he pulled out his small, slender silver knife hidden amongst his bones. With a single slice, he spilt the fish's guts over the preparation table, and he once more broke one of the kingdom's rules.
   In Haar's village in the middle of nowhere, there had been no Bone Rattlers. When guidance was needed, they turned instead to the outlawed art of haruspicy; divination via entrails.
   It had long been outlawed in favour of Bone Rattlers, but Haar's nerves could only be settled by confirming what the Song had told him; reassuring him that he hadn't misheard, but as he saw the dark spot on the fish's liver and other familiar signs; he knew he had not made a mistake. He grimly finished filleting the fish, hiding his sin, worrying that if he failed his duty as a Bone Rattler, Kastor's kingdom was doomed.[/spoiler]