Drogo was out and about, inspecting the nature of the pine grove, and he couldn't help but feel happy. If this could be their home, it would be wonderful. The towering trees were natural barriers, hiding them from view. The air here was damp and cool, and the roots of the ancient pines had already begun sprouting pine tubes — a fine delicacy. Feeding would not be a problem.
Now all he could do was hope Lucius deemed the place safe, and that no other beast had claimed the grove.
Rustle.
Drogo turned sharply, body tensed, ready to charge or retreat.
"At ease, Drogo," Lucius' deep voice came from the brush. His massive frame emerged, dragging a dead panther behind him.
Drogo exhaled with relief. "Ooh, you scared me there." Then his eyes widened as he noticed the carcass. "A hollow panther… so these pines were claimed after all. Luckily it was only a second-ranked beast. They usually wander alone."
Lucius said nothing. He simply heaved the corpse over to Drogo as though it weighed nothing. "Find a place to store it. Tomorrow we'll decide if this will be home." With that, he walked toward the clearing where Morsey had set a makeshift nest.
The beast weighed more than Drogo himself. He caught it but was nearly pushed back, staggering before planting his feet.
He looked at the carcass, then at Lucius' retreating back. "This…"
"Seems Lucius is back from scouting. He must be pleased," Lurnze called as he appeared from the underbrush. His eyes landed on the carcass. "Whoa. Lucky it wasn't us who scouted."
"If it was, I could've bested it anyway," Drogo muttered.
"Really? You're only in the Claw Stage. I just broke through to Feral Beast rank a month ago. I'm certain we'd both be sliced and diced." Lurnze's laugh earned him a snarl from Drogo.
"Then drag the body back yourself," Drogo snapped.
"Wait, wait… I can't drag that thing all the way back!"
---
Curze had watched everything — his father dragging back the kill, his uncles arguing over it. His eyes lingered on the hollow panther's corpse. Father must've slain it himself… then maybe this grove won't be our home after all.
He sighed and turned back to his tree-top perch. He gathered fresh branches, weaving himself a crude nest and piling leaves for warmth. It was already cold, but he had long grown used to it. He preferred it, though if the cold grew too sharp, he would sneak to Granny's side.
---
The sun rose through the canopy of the pines, spilling golden light across the grove.
On a branch nearby, a trail of ants marched in line, carrying bits of leaves into a hollow. At least, that's what they thought — until Curze used the hollow branch as a scoop, tilting it into his mouth.
To him, ants were no real food, just bitter paste with water, but they filled his belly. He had grown used to bugs, scraps, and leftovers from Granny or Drogo's family — never the luxuries his step-siblings enjoyed. Still, it was enough.
He took one last scoop, then leapt to another branch overlooking the clearing. Below, the adults had gathered. He knew what they were discussing: whether this place would become their home. But all would hinge on his father's decision.
"Hey Curze, come on! Let's play!" a voice came from below. It was Trey, a young relative around his age. "Liya found a pool not far from here!"
Curze glanced at him. He only ever played with Trey because of little Liya. Still, he nodded. "Alright. I'm coming. Go ahead first." Trey dashed into the woods, leaving Curze to gaze one last time at the gathering below.
---
Lucius stood before the troop's elders and adults — twelve in all. His mother, his two brothers and their mates, his two own mates, three elders, and two young adults.
"It's clear most of you want this grove as our home," he said, scanning their faces.
"Yes," answered an older male elder, his voice cracked with age. "This place is far from the outer ridges, safer, and carries no threat."
Lucius' eyes lingered on his uncle Krac, this old one he respected. Then he turned to his mother. She gave him a steady nod.
He sighed inwardly. "Very well. I also believe this could serve as a home… but not a permanent one."
"Why not?" Morsey interrupted.
He bared his teeth in a growl. "Because we will never have a home until we are strong enough to defend it."
"But we have you," another aunt of his argued.
"That's the problem." His voice was cold, final. "I alone cannot defend us on all sides. You forget — those we fled from still stand with four Core Beasts equal to me, and two even stronger." He glanced at his brothers with clear disappointment. They lowered their gazes.
"Then we must rely on the younger ones too," Grannylurn spoke, her matriarchal presence silencing the gathering.
"Yes. I agree with the matriarch," Grundy added. "This grove is filled with resources. We can use it to help the young condense their first strand of primal force and step into the Beast rank."
Lucius nodded. "That will be done. But hear me — my word is final. We may stay here for a year, perhaps two. But if Drogo and Lurnze cannot break deeper into the Fang and Claw Stages, then we keep moving."
His brothers stiffened. The pressure was clear.
"And for that," Lucius added, "you both will eat of the panther's flesh."
The adults' mouths watered at the thought, save for Grannylurn, who kept her calm.
"By nightfall, gather the young. We'll help them in their first transformation." Lucius turned, heading toward his shelter.
Morsey started to follow, but Grannylurn's sharp gaze froze her. Without a word, the matriarch moved alongside her son, intent on speaking with him alone.
---