Chapter 22- H'chakde

It wasn't long until H'chakde had left the training area as well, and headed straight to his room. His initial curiosity as to what the Elder was speaking to Kayla about, died rather quickly.

Time to himself was something H'chakde had gotten very little of during his punishment. Only when she was asleep did he get a little peace from her. So as long as he had a few moments to himself, the Elder could keep Kayla as much as he wanted to.

As soon as H'chakde entered his room, he began removing the few pieces of armor from himself. Once they were put away in their place, his real work began. Although the term work was in very loose use.

Reorganizing, and polishing up his collection of skulls and pelts was oddly soothing for the young warrior. Even more so now that the ooman was absent from the room. Not that she was loud and rowdy, but her presence made him very tense. She was just another reminder of the situation he had put himself in.

H'chakde hadn't gotten the chance to push her as much as he wanted during training. His desire for her not to appear weak in front of the other yautja, often clouded his judgement. More mistakes he couldn't often make, lest her wounds open up again, and he fail his task.

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After H'chakde was satisfied with the state of his trophies, he moved onto polishing his armor. It wasn't until a little while later, that he heard a knock on the door. Bringing his attention away from his work and to the sound in question. He placed his chest plate on the table before he stood and opened the door. A low growl settled in H'chakde's throat when he saw who it was.

Kayla stood in front of him, hand pressed over her wound like it always was. Lar'ja-Thwei had accompanied her to his room, and stood right behind her. The two yautja exchanged a few short words before the medic disappeared down the hall.

H'chakde stepped aside for Kayla to enter, allowing the door to slide closed behind her when she did. He watched carefully as she waddled to her bundle of furs and dropped down onto them. Her mask melting away as the pain she felt began to show through. The pain she had always been good at hiding from other yautja.

That part about Kayla had always impressed H'chakde. She was able to hide her pain almost as well as a younger yautja. Even if she was only able to keep that facade up for short periods of time. One day, she would learn to get much better at it.

H'chakde made sure the door was locked before he went back to his chair. Grabbing up his chest plate, he continued his earlier task. Yet again getting lost in it, before the ooman brought him out of it.

Out of the corner of his eye, H'chakde could see her sit up from her furs. She said something in her language that H'chakde ignored. At least until she persisted.

"What?" He asked, his tone exasperated. The ooman fell silent a moment, an unsure look pulling over her face. Her gaze shifted around the room before returning to him. More specifically the armor held in his hand. She pointed at it tilting her head slightly.

"Why the mark?" She asked. H'chakde didn't understand most of her language, but he knew enough to pick up on what she asked. It was also a little help that she had picked up on some of his language in her time there.

H'chakde glanced down at the clan marking, just in her line of sight. He fell silent a moment trying to think of how to explain it to her. It was of course something she needed to know.

He pointed to himself, and then to the metal floor of the ship. "To show I have earned my place here." H'chakde responded.

Kayla tilted her head at him. The furry strips on her face pulling together as she looked quizitavley between the mark and him. She was still confused, but H'chakde was determined to make her understand.

"You." H'chakde pointed to the clan mark and then back to her. "Will have a chance at earning this." The low growl that rose up in his throat as he spoke was meant to show it wasn't and option. Failure was not an option for her, just like it wasn't an option for him.

When she was fully healed, H'chakde would push her and push her till she hit her limit. Then when he would push her far past that point. Until he was sure she could hunt with the best of his kind, he wouldn't let her rest. Unless she had become injured again of course.

The ooman nodded slowly, remaining silent as she tried to process (or more understand) what H'chakde had said.

He let out a low growl at this, this language barrier between them was growing tiresome. He had half a mind to force her to learn his language, since he lacked the patience to learn hers. Although as he gave it more thought, he also realized he lacked the patience to teach it.

"How do you get that?" She asked, her head tilting even more as she pointed at the mark again.

H'chakde's chest swelled with pride at the memories of his initiation hunt filled his mind. Setting his armor down on the table, he stood and walked over to his wall. From it, he pulled two particular trophies. The head and claw of a Kainde Amehda, a hard meat.

He turned back toward Kayla and held them out for her to see. Watching as her eyes traveled over them slowly. The look on her face filled him with even more pride.

"You hunt one of these, and kill them like you had done with that other creature." H'chakde gestured with his head toward the bones of the creature from her first hunt. "It is very tough, some Yautja die during this task."

Although more often than not is was from their own stupidity, and pride. H'chakde would not allow her to make that mistake, he almost did.

"Once you have killed them, you use their blood to mark yourself." He held the claw up to show her the bit of dry acidic blood on the end of it. "To show others you have proved your place in the clan." Although most of his words had to be conveyed through movement. Kayla's nod of acknowledgement told him she understood him.

H'chakde moved back to his table and set down the head and arm on by his chest plate. Once he had sat down, he turned toward Kayla. Pushing his long tresses back to show off his other clan marking.

Next to the intricate scar, was another longer and more jagged scar. Running from the top of his pectoral to the bottom of it. "This, was one of the scars I got from that hunt." H'chakde said running his finger along it as he spoke.

One of the Kiande Amehda had gotten the best of him. Targeted him in a moment where he was so full of pride that he neglected to keep an eye on his surroundings. It had dug it's razor sharp claws into him and left its mark.

H'chakde picked the arm up from the table by his side and held it up for Kayla to see. "The zabin may have gotten one good blow in, but I." His fist patted his chest lightly. "I was the one who walked away from the battle."

At this point H'chakde was sure he was mostly talking to himself. The confused look on Kayla's face was more than enough evidence for that. But the way her eyes studied the scars upon his chest made him swell with an emotion he wasn't quite sure he remembered the name of. All he knew was that it mixed well with his pride, and he liked it.

H'chakde's own eyes traveled to the stitching running up the ooman's side. Her first hunt had gone much the same way. The beast had wounded her, but she had taken it down. Also much the same way, her scar would be something she could be proud of. Despite the stupidity that had led to her getting it.

He turned away from her, and went to put his trophies back in their rightful place. "Rest ooman." H'chakde said, a slight hiss under his breath. "Tomorrow we start tougher training."

Kayla winced as she forced herself to stand. She shook her head as she pointed to her abdomen then at her mouth, jaw snapping at nothing. "Food." She said with a nod. "Then sleep."

Another growl rose up in H'chakde's throat at that. Ooman's were such demanding creatures, always needing to eat so frequently. He moved toward the door, gesturing for her to follow after him.

Kayla obliged, coming to stand next to him. Forcing her shoulders back, she raised her head a little her same mask pulling over her face as she did so. H'chakde gave a nod and low click of approval. He stepped out of the room and began the walk to the mess hall, Kayla following close behind him.

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It was a few days later when H'chakde was pulled from his sleep by a loud series of knocks. Growling, he pushed himself from his bed and moved to the door. Opening it, he was surprised to find Kweide standing in the doorway. Two boxes full of leaves in his arms. When other yautja had the chance he immediately shoved the boxes full of vegetation into H'chakde's arms.

"These are yours now." Kweide grumbled lowly. H'chakde looked at him confused as he took in his appearance. The other yautja was covered in mud, and other debris. Some swollen lumps and scratches also covered his body.

"Alright?" H'chakde looked down at the box before glancing back at Kweide, being sure to keep his eyes to the ground. "What use do i have for leaves?" He questioned.

Kweide growled in response and pointed to a sleeping Kayla behind H'chakde. "Ask the ooman's digestive tract." He straightened himself and looked at H'chakde squarely. "They are complicated creatures."

They were being punished for the same mistake and of equal rank. Kweide felt no need to be respectful, and soon H'chakde's attitude reflected his. H'chakde looked up at him and gave him a curt nod. Watching as Kweide stalked away.

H'chakde stepped back letting the door close behind him. He set the leaves on the table beside him before grabbing one up from the box. He tilted his head as he began to inspect it. Its deep green color reminding him too much of Kweide's recent visit. So it was dropped back in the box immediately.

He then turned his attention back to his room. His eyes traveling over the ooman and then to the trophies on the wall. A sense of longing and pride filled the young warrior at the memories each of the little hides and skulls brought forth. However anger soon overshadowed them.

H'chakde wanted a break from the ooman, and he would get it. He didn't care if it was only for a day of hunting or for a week. He wanted to hunt without the injured ooman slowing him down.

He dressed quickly in his armor before making his way to the door. Taking only one more moment to glance at the ooman before he left. She was fast asleep, and most likely would be for most the time he was gone.

After talking with the Elder, H'chakde would have to arrange for her to stay with someone during his absence. Lar'ja-Thwei maybe? Or probably Kweide. Either way didn't matter to him, as long as he got the chance to blow off some steam.