Empire of Claws

Empire of Claws

 

Chapter One – Terlydig the Smart

The many moons and two distant suns drifted across the sky like leaves on a slow river, but the Castordigs didn’t know why. The trees towered over the land and swayed with the winds, but the Castordigs didn’t understand where the wind came from or why it was fierce at times. Did trying to answer these mysteries even matter? Terlydig believed so. But what did she know?

Snorting to breathe, Terlydig scurried down the dark tunnel as fast as her four legs could carry her chubby body. Her claws dug into the thick dirt to help her squeeze past panicked Castordigs heading in the opposite direction.

Her family called her Terlydig the Smart. What nonsense. She twitched her pointy nose and wiggled her whiskers, giving a subtle scoff. If she was so smart, why was she running toward the problem?

Below a foot of mud and rocks, hundreds of narrow passages snaked below the jungle floor. They branched off in different directions, connecting to nests or leading to hidden entrances near streams. Salvaged bones and tree branches worked as archways to support the dark turns. The Castordigs called this ‘home.’ At least some of them did — the ones that believed in the importance of words.

“Which way is the cave in?” Terlydig asked with quick teeth clicks and a tongue smack. Some showed a little recognition in their frightened eyes, but most Castordigs squirmed past Terlydig without a second glance.

“Hunters and Musclestompers!” one Castordig cried in a frantic cluster of clicks squeals as it pushed Terlydig out of the way.

At least he was using words, Terlydig thought. She inspected a tunnel that had several turn offs.

“But which way?” Terlydig clicked and smacked her thin lips, but the Castordig was long gone.

Unfortunately, even if words were more popular, it would be hard for panicking Castordigs to tell her the exact direction to go.

Terlydig smelled the air for unfriendly beasts. Far to her left there was the hint of a recent rain and wet beasts covered in pungent rage. Her smart little brain told her to follow the smells.

As she turned a corner, a pleasant rush of blood circulated through her. It was the same feeling she got everytime a wonderful idea came to her. Like a beast marking a territory with urine, perhaps the tunnels could be labeled in some way. Maybe she could scratch symbols or words into rocks or bones and mount them at different turns in the tunnels. She envisioned the entire network of tunnels labeled this way. It could change the way Castordigs live.

She set aside the pleasing thoughts and continued through the maze, eager to deal with this disastrous cave in and get back to working on her ideas and dreams. Each advancement and tool they created helped their community get better at survival. And words were clearly the greatest tool of all. Locating food was already easier as Castordigs shared their knowledge of the best fishing spots. They had even passed on how to mend wounds and which fish to avoid eating so every Castordi could benefit. Words were the future. Words could save them.

With her dark vision, Terlydig noticed the slick backs of several Castordigs as they went by. Their fur was wet, as if they had been swimming the rivers or working on one of the community dams. And the smell of a recent rain was growing stronger. There must be an opening up ahead. While she dreaded what horrors might await her, at least she was heading in the right direction. Once again, her smarts were proving useful.

Terlydig could not deny that she was probably a bit smarter than most Castordigs, but she hated the name Terlydig the Smart. It implied she was unique. With effort and determination, any Castordig could have complex thoughts and do complex things. At least she wanted to believe this. If their species was to survive their harsh reality, all of them needed to grow and embrace new ways of thinking and communicating.

Her claws splashed through a thin layer of water and the ceiling opened up ahead. Piles and mud and bone filled the tunnel path where the ceiling had come down.

“Mesadigs!” She was thrilled to find Mesadigs trying to seal off the tunnel at the cave-in point. This was smart to do, but Terlydig also had a special fondness for Mesadigs. Some Castordigs wiggled their whiskers at her in amusement when Terlydig shared her dreams of more sophisticated nests and a stable life outside the tunnels, but Mesadigs never did. And for some reason his tail seemed sleeker, his nose seemed cuter, and Terlydig longed to lick his whiskers clean.

“I will help, I will help,” Terlydig offered as she squeezed beside Mesadig. She grabbed some of the large beast bones and tried to block off the pooling water that was making the dirt too wet to clump together.

Mesadig gave Terlydig a quick nod as he worked. “I am afraid,” he muttered with teeth chomps and a whimper. “The beasts are close. Too close.”

“You do well, very well,” Terlydig clicked and squeaked reassuringly.

She took a second to push herself up on her hind legs, peeking out of the collapsed tunnel. At least the rain had stopped. In the night, she could see well enough to confirm that a Hunter and Musclestomper were nearby.

Neither was approaching nor even fighting each other, which was most peculiar. The Hunter was on his back, battered and looking dazed, with a leg clearly broken in two places. Several feet away was an enormous Musclestomper trying to pull its mighty tree-stump size legs out of thick mud. A long stick reached out of the Musclestomper’s back. The Hunter must have stabbed the beast before falling back, badly injured.

Hunters were frightening creatures, but Terlydig couldn’t help but pity it. The Hunter could barely get to one knee, falling over when it tried. With its massive upper-body strength, the Hunter used long arms to pull itself along the ground, heading toward the nearest tree. This Terlydig understood. The trees were the Hunters’ friends. They lived in the trees. With sharpened branches, they even hunted from the trees.

The Hunter let out a painful moan, desperately struggling toward a tree it would surely not reach in time.

Where were the other Hunters? There were usually two or three together. Why wasn’t this Hunter howling for help. Maybe Hunters didn’t come when called. Maybe Hunters didn’t work in packs or weren’t smart enough to form groups that helped each other. So many questions Terlydig wished she could answer. So smart, yet still so much she didn’t understand.

Terlydig dropped down and returned to building a small dam with the support bones used to brace the tunnel. “We have time, we have time.” But probably not much. One spear wouldn’t kill a Musclestomper unless the sharp tip was placed somewhere vulnerable, like the neck or soft underbelly. The Musclestomper would work its way out of the mud soon and then the unarmed Hunter was doomed. The Musclestomper, could bite off the Hunters legs or just stomp on the Hunter until she was nothing but a bag of crushed bones.

Terlydig swallowed. If the Hunter died, the Musclestomper could march into Castordigs territory. The hulking four-legged animal was fat with thick armor-like skin and it couldn’t fit in the tunnel, but she could collapse more of it. And if any Castordigs tried to repair the tunnel while the Musclestomper was around, they could end up being food for the giant beast.

“Hurry,” Terlydig cried as she frantically packed dirt and put up support bones, determined to protect her people. Terlydig had witnessed several family members being mauled and eaten by surface beasts. It was a terrible way to die.

What good were her smarts now? In times like this, only digging and hiding mattered.

Over many seasons, Terlydig had watched Hunters from a distance when they came to the rivers to drink and when they celebrated their kills. They stood upright, had hairless grey skin, and teeth that were always visible. Why no lips? Their head seemed like a large skull of teeth that stretched around to their small ears. Deep, tiny eyes twitched back and forth as they stalked prey. And they had no nose that Terlydig could see, except for maybe a series of holes that lined their broad cheeks. They were terrifying, skilled killers. Better at killing than any beasts Terlydig had witnessed.

Terlydig paused. Too bad the Castordigs weren’t more like the Hunters.

“Did, dig,” Mesadig begged. “Dig dig.”

Hunters did not eat Castordigs. At least not that Terlydig had ever seen. Hunters ate just about every surface beast it could kill, like Musclestompers. Hunters even howled and danced around the dead bodies of beasts as if killing was the focus of their lives. But they never touched Castordigs, or bugs, or fish. Terlydig could not explain this, but her blood felt warm and comforting. She might just have her greatest idea ever.

Balancing on her hind legs, she peeked out again. The fading clouds revealed two white spheres, large moons lighting the area.

The Musclestomper was almost free. It snorted and growled, frothing at the mouth as it climbed out of the mud toward the Hunter.

The Hunter’s smell and howls had always frightened the Castordigs, but Terlydig suddenly felt no fear of this Hunter, and not just because he was wounded. They were not enemies. Like the ten-legged bugs that cleaned the tunnels of waste and ate the tiny wing creatures that infested the fur of the Castordigs, and the small sucking fish that rode the large gilled fish, the Castordigs and the Hunters were… neighbors… that could help each other.

The Musclestomper pulled its front legs onto firm land and roared, sending a tremble through the trees and into Terlydig heart.

She forced herself to focus, inspecting the area, but there were no other sharpened branches for the Hunter to use as a weapon.

Her mind raced. Unable to climb a tree well or sharpen a stick fast, she looked back down into the tunnel. Terlydig knew bones. She knew them very well. It was her idea to collect them from dead beasts and use the bones to help support the tunnels. They lasted longer than wood in the damp underground. The Castordigs also discovered that the sharp ends of broken bones were better for digging than with their tiny claws.

She cupped two pointy bones to her chest and climbed out of the tunnel. Her fingers hurt, she was tired, but a warm feeling assured her that she was doing the right thing.

“No, no,” Mesadig cried, scratching at Terlydig’s leg.

Terlydig pulled away and crawled through the wet leaves toward the Hunter. This wasn’t fast enough; the Musclestomper would reach the Hunter first. Terlydig forced herself onto her hindlegs and ran like the Hunters do. She stumbled twice and then collapsed next to the Hunter.

A tight grip suddenly seized around Terlydig’s neck. The Hunter had grabbed her, glaring into her eyes. Terlydig’s feet lifted off the ground as the hunter picked her up. A Castordig was barely the length of a Hunter’s arm, and she could offer no resistance against a Hunter’s great strength.

Unable to breathe, she wiggled the bones at the Hunter. With a snarl, the Hunter looked down, inspecting the bone as if she was unsure what to make of them.

The ground rumbled as the Musclestomper charged and grunted.

Its heavy brow raised, the Hunter glanced to the Musclestomper. Terlydig detected a wobble in the Hunter’s grip.

She tapped the bones on the Hunter’s arms.

Suddenly, in one continuous motion, the Hunter grabbed the bones and flung Terlydig aside. Back braced against the ground, the Hunter readied the bones, sharp ends out.

The Musclestomper reared up and lunged on top of the Hunter, but the Hunter rolled away, then swung back with lightning speed, stabbing the larger beast in the neck with both blades. With a howl, he stabbed again and again, climbing on the beast’s side. The Musclestomper squirmed and swung its large head back and forth, roaring in pain, but it couldn’t shake the Hunter off.

Terlydig watched the battle from the edge of the collapsed tunnel. Mesadig peeked up beside her and gave a quiet whimper.

“I did it,” Terlydig said with a few teeth chomps. A warmth circulated through her and she felt like she was floating. She didn’t just save the Hunter, she discovered the path forward for her kind. Castordigs were workers, builders… and thinkers.

A series of significant advances flooded her mind. The Castordigs could help the Hunters clear the area of bigger beasts. Castordigs could create barriers outside of the tunnels to protect the land. They didn’t need to hide in tunnels, not forever. With knowledge, they had the power to build a better world. Her dream could be a reality. Every limb on her hurt, but she had never felt so strong.

As the sound of a dying beast faded away, Terlydig gazed up through the canopy of giant leaves and leaning branches, past the two moons, focusing on the tiny stars. She didn’t know what they were, why some were smaller than others, why they were laid out in strange patterns and seemed to vary from season to season, but suddenly the distant lights felt like they were within the Castordigs’ reach.