Wrath of the Gods

Heat

A shimmer of gossamer wings flickering along the horizon.

Sultry

Beautiful

Deadly

Just the way I like it.

It was hot .. oppressively. Nothing moved. Nothing expended any more energy than it had to. Midday was silent .. heavy. The bosk rested with hanging heads and waited for the heat to break .. it always did ... sooner or later. Mornings and evenings found them marking heavy trails to the watering holes. Watering holes that were shrinking and disappearing. They always did .. this year it was happening before it was supposed to. The grass was dry and stiff .. cured and baked free of any moisture. The earth cracked where the grass roots did not hold it together .. like an old and weathered woman .. the seams scarred and furrowed across the face of the plains.

It was a chore to breathe. The heated atmosphere singed nostrils and filled the lungs with stale air that did not seem to carry enough oxygen for suffocating cells to make the effort worth it. The horizon wavered and shifted .. spinning easily with too much activity. Pulse throbbed sluggishly .. pounding in the temples. Eyes burned and sweat stung skin worn sensitive by dust and wind.

There was no respite .. the nights as miserable as the days. Sleep escaped even the most exhausted and drove the sanest minds to a breaking point. Tempers were short .. peace was a memory ... animals and humans were quick to jump at each others throats.

The gods must be crazy.

I thrived in it.

Shoving through it .. eating it up. The more it hurt .. the more it burned ... the harder I pushed. The more I felt the grit in my teeth .. the more I felt the sting of sweat ... the longer I worked. My body leaned out and honed down even more. Not that it was not always so .. but I lost the last bits of filler that I had built up during the easy winter nights lounging before the fire and eating thick bosk steaks. If the gods were crazy .. I was insane. I rarely ate .. just enough to keep me going and to add the salt I needed to keep myself hydrated. I drank .. a lot. It ran from my pours as quickly as I ingested it. I rarely slept. It was too hot to sleep.

Leather nearly too hot to touch. Metal gear could leave blisters if handled at the wrong times and in the wrong way. Men and kaiila suffered heat exhaustion easily .. but the bosk were not going anywhere fast .. they barely moved save to roll in the shallow dust bowls to rid themselves of the plagues of parasites that flourished. Sleen dug holes beneath the wagons and lay panting with eyes rolled back in their heads.

Thoughts stifled in the sweltering heat of day. There was no thought .. there was simply to power though each task .. push just a little harder ... the more it hurt ... the harder I shoved.

And then it happened.

We live with it .. it is a part of our lives every year upon the plains. We live with it .. and we die with it.

Plains fire.

Was it started by a careless human? Heat lightning? Or just the Sky finding the lack of activity below a deadly bore .. deciding to liven things up a little by tossing some tragedy out for kicks. It has been awhile since the Tuchuk were at war. Perhaps it was time to cull the herd too allow the strongest to procreate and sustain the integrity of the species?

Voyeuristic sadism at its finest.

It started small .. tragedies usually do. A flicker .. a spark .. a tender little flame ... so fragile ... so easily blown out. But that was not to be the fate of this particular flame. This little conflagration was destined for great things .. words like inferno ... holocaust ... rested in its future. It was fed by dry grass.. nurtured by a breath ... and whispered encouragement by the Sky.

Building .. preparing ... great gasps of life left exhales of billowing smoke and ash ... the great beast began to stretch and feel the power burning .. muscles stretching .... it could taste and it wanted more. It needed .. more. It would take .... more.

And just that easy .. it began its prowl taking the Harigga unaware ... sneaking up on heat numbed senses ... was an outrider just not paying attention ... lulled by the afternoon haze? What series of unfortunate events could cause the greatest Tribe on the plains to suffer from such a well known adversary as a plains fire? Whatever they were .. they spelled disaster in deceptively weak words scrawled out and signed off by the Sky herself.

The beast's roar the only warning before it swept down on the Harigga .. a cacophony of crackling .. rushing ... boiling ... molten death that took any path of least resistance .. swarming and overtaking quicker than a man or kaiila could run. Catching the people .. cutting them off from each other ... sweeping on and leaving some to stand unharmed in the middle of a patch of grass that was burned all the way around ... a patch of grass like an island of mercy ... but there was no reason or rhyme behind the beast's choices as it ravaged over others claiming some lives with scorching lingering death as their skin melted from their bones ... or others simply unable to breathe who passed into unknown and unfeeling places before the flames took their bodies.

A mother lay with her child .. her corpse blackened and unrecognizable ... her babe appearing to sleep peacefully in those horrific arms ... not a sign of trauma to his body save his lungs had refused to continue the painful draw of smoke laden air.

It was the screaming.

I was far away from the Harigga .. I had taken a few bosk from my own herd and I was searching for some better grass along the way towards where we had been planning on moving .. easing them along so the move was not such a strain on them. They were older .. younger ... the weakest of my herd that needed a little head start.

It was the wailing .. screaming ... howling cries from man and beast that reached me .. got my attention ... pulled my thoughts from the oppressive heat to bring my gaze to the horizon .. searching with sudden forced clarity. The grayish white billowing cloud that had started to burn black .. told me all I needed to know. White smoke was one thing .. tar black nasty exhales meant another. Meant a fire had found something more to eat than dry grass ... meant it was chewing on the only thing out there on the plains that was near ... Tuchuk. Wagons .. gear ... animals ... people. Us.

If I stayed right where I was the fire would roar right passed me. Rocca and I and the small herd of my bosk.

The thought to do so never occurred to me. Everything I lived for was back there. I was reining Rocca around and laying my spurs into him as another thought pierced through my brain .. Tarra and Mezoo had taken some of the Elders on a ride and they were going to be right in the path of the fire. I sent Rocca against every instinct we both shared .. right towards the flames .. coming at them from the side and riding fast.