The sun crept over the horizon, gilding the edge of the Black Market Tribe in pale light. Morning mist clung low to the earth, curling around the stone houses and woven fences like a living thing. It was the kind of morning where sound seemed to travel too far, where the tribe's ordinary rhythms felt heavier with unspoken tension.
From their house, Kashi could hear the faint scraping of claws against stone: Jin Ling, already awake, sharpening the edge of a spear. She stayed still for a moment, eyes closed, letting the rhythm of the sound settle into her chest. It had become a steady part of life here, as much as the cubs' chatter and the way the wind moaned over the mountains.
Her gaze drifted to the three small figures still curled beneath blankets. Chow Chow had burrowed into her brothers in her sleep, fox ears twitching at every shift in the room. Chaoang had rolled to the side, one small arm flung over them protectively even in dreams. Chao Lie slept at the edge, long snake body looped once around his own waist as if he was coiled even when resting.
Peaceful. It looked peaceful.
And yet she knew, just like the quiet that comes before heavy snow, this was only temporary.
---
By the time breakfast was done, the cubs were out in the yard with their small grass packs, sorting the stones they had been gathering these past few days. Kashi wiped her hands clean and moved closer to watch them.
Chaoang worked fast, his fox tail flicking back and forth as he carried heavy stones without being asked. He had always been the first to pick up work.
"Big brother, these are too big," Chow Chow said, pointing at the flat, wide rocks. "Mama said smooth stones are for bowls. Those are for walls."
"And walls are strong," Chaoang countered, puffing up. "Do you want to live in a weak house?"
Chao Lie flicked his tail, looking up from where he was curling vines around a bundle of grass. "You're loud. If you scare prey with your voice, don't ask me to catch it later."
Kashi hid a smile at their bickering. These small quarrels had become softer lately, less born of suspicion and more of habit. They had been through enough now to be family in more than just name.
---
By mid-morning, she joined Jin Ling outside the fence. He had finished working the edge of the spear and was now leaning on it, gaze scanning the mountains beyond. His posture was relaxed, but there was a weight in his eyes.
"Still thinking about what those two said?" Kashi asked, stepping beside him.
"They weren't lying," he said after a pause. "I've seen that kind of fear before. Tribes don't flee like that unless something big has already burned their homes to the ground."
Her hands tightened on the folds of her coat. Those two, still learning to speak properly, had made it clear in their broken words that their underground tribe had been attacked by another. They hadn't spoken of it in detail to the rest of the tribe yet, but even what little they'd said had been enough to ripple unease through the camp.
Jin Ling glanced at her sidelong. "You've felt it too. The tribe is dividing. Half of them see it as a warning, the other half… as trouble we've invited into our own walls."
"And you?" she asked.
"I don't care what they think," he said simply. "I only care about keeping you and the cubs safe."
Something in the quiet way he said it made her heart stumble. She looked away, pretending to focus on the cubs in the distance.
---
The day stretched into soft work.
The cubs practiced with wooden weapons Jin Ling had shaped for them. Chaoang, bold and stubborn, lunged and parried, trying to mimic the stance he'd seen the older hunters use. Chow Chow focused on speed and balance, every movement careful. Chao Lie, coiling low to the ground, struck with sudden speed, his snake instincts making his strikes precise.
Kashi stood back and guided them as needed, but for the most part she let them learn by doing. Jin Ling, however, didn't stay still. He adjusted their posture, tapped their feet into better positions, and pushed them to go again. His patience with them was endless.
And though he didn't say it aloud, she knew why. The dangers outside the tribe's walls weren't going away.
---
Afternoon came with a faint chill. At the edge of the tribe, people gathered in low clusters, talking in whispers. Kashi caught snatches of words as she passed by with a basket on her hip.
"…if those things underground come here…" "…I heard the two exiles say they might follow them…" "…why should we be the ones to shelter them? We already have our own mouths to feed…"
The voices weren't loud, but they carried. When she turned her head, she found a few eyes sliding away quickly, others holding her gaze longer with a guarded look. No insults were spoken directly, but the air around her was thicker than it had been a few days ago.
For a moment she almost said something. Almost. But then she just adjusted the basket on her hip and walked on. She had been called worse before.
---
It was later, when she sat alone on a flat rock overlooking the stream, that Jin Ling came up behind her. She didn't hear him at first—he was too light-footed for that—but she felt his presence like the warmth of the sun breaking through a cloud.
"Are you going to keep pretending you don't hear them?" His voice was quiet.
Kashi's fingers tightened against the edge of the rock. "It doesn't matter what they say."
"It matters if it makes you carry it alone."
That simple sentence stole her breath. For a long while, neither of them moved. Then he crouched beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, but not touching.
"You've built a life for them here," he said. "For the cubs. For yourself. You've done more than anyone expected you could. Don't let them take that away from you with their whispers."
She turned to him then, meeting the unwavering gold of his eyes. Something in her chest ached in a way she didn't want to name yet.
"I'm trying," she said softly.
"I know."
It was such a small thing, those two words, but they left her feeling steadier than she had all day.
---
Evening fell slow and golden, the cubs finally tiring and dragging themselves back to the house. After dinner, Kashi tucked them in, smoothing back their hair, watching as sleep claimed them with a swiftness only children knew.
She stayed there longer than usual, listening to their breathing, thinking of the days ahead. Thinking of the storm that would eventually reach even this quiet place.
And thinking, despite herself, of Jin Ling's hand hovering close to hers earlier by the stream, never touching.
---
Outside, beyond the reach of the firelight, the tribe was restless. Word had already spread about the warnings from the underground. Some sharpened their weapons in preparation. Others whispered about leaving.
The mountain winds picked up, carrying with them the low sound of drums from a far-off hunting party returning late.
The tribe was still.
But beneath it all, every heart knew: this peace would not last.