The glint of a knife's edge gleamed through the darkness, blackly reflecting the cave's interior. A glowing concoction bubbled over an open flame, and metal instruments were lined of neatly beside it. Drisnôk smiled. It was almost ready. It may have been years, it may have been centuries; Drisnôk no longer counted the days. While the world changed around him, his bitterness remained the same. It sizzled and churned within him, forcing the drive and ambition upon him. Sleepless nights, sleepless days, they had all been spent working. And he had found it, the enchantment. He had found a way to do the impossible, to free himself from and unbreakable prison of anguish. The spell would allow him to go where he had not gone for centuries, to the hall of the gods. Not all the gods, Drisnôk thought spitefully. He spat into the fire, leaving a gob of liquid that hissed and spit. Leaving was impossible, at least for now, but the spell allowed him to lightly touch the mortal world, sending a hint of his essence to it. The process of splintering his soul had been excruciating, but the result was well worth it. Drisnôk felt the airy, freeing feeling of hope. He picked up the knife, held it to his skin and pulled.

Drisnôk didn't flinch as the honed steel slowly mutilated his flesh. He let the two drops of the dark blood fall into a stone bowl. The contents flared brightly red before darkening again. Without hesitation, Drisnôk drank. As soon as the mixture slid past his throat his vision narrowed. Air pushed against him from all sides, and he was shoved upwards. Drisnôk held his breath. He had attempted this before, when he was younger and still full of spite. The wards had seared his flesh and he had fallen, screaming to the cave floor. He braced himself for the pain that was to come. A slight tugging sensation pulled at him, but that was all.

Drisnôk forced himself through the glittering bubble and into the realm of the Gods. He concentrated, veins throbbing, and managed to solidify his flesh. Excitement thrummed through him, but he forced himself to focus. Eura's cave gaped open from the wall, black in the midst of marble perfection. Drisnôk listened carefully and then slipped inside. Silver statues lined the walls, each and every one a representative of a shifter on the earth below. Eursa had carved them all, shaving silver strips off with her implanted claws. The sight of so many lives was awe-inspiring. Drisnôk ignored them. He scanned the shelves with a practiced eye. Footsteps fell outside the cave. Drisnôk knew he had only moments before he was discovered. He snatched a statue off the shelf and forced his body to separate again. The second he landed on his prison floor, Eursa entered her cave.

Drisnôk smiled maniacally. He strode forwards and pulled the potion off of the fire. With a swift movement, he dropped the statue in. The statue began to glow with a white light as soon as it hit the liquid. Slowly the glow faded, replaced by something dark that pulsed. The silver on the outside had melted away, revealing the same image but cast in steel. All of the soft edges that had previously existed were gone. In their place, the statue had hard fur, long claws and a mean glint in its eyes.

Drisnôk stared at the statue with a pleased expression. "You," he said breathlessly, "will free me."

"Kiela? Can I come in?" A soft voice called. It was accompanied by a light rap on her tent frame.

"Of course," Kiela replied. She sat down on the edge of her bed. Œille, her house head walked in.
"Are you okay, Kiela?" she asked, sitting across from her. "It's been almost a week since you arrived, and you never leave your tent, save for a run. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kiela mumbled. She didn't find a point in socializing with the other shifters, and when she did she didn't make friends. She took to the woods when she wanted to go out, venturing farther and father away, for days at a time. She rarely took part in house meetings, which is why she supposed Œille was here now.

"Kiela, you need to get out." Œille told her. She let out a sigh. "Your name has been pulled for kitchen duty for this week. I'm sorry, but you don't really have a choice in this. You have to meet at the cook-tents in a few minutes.

Kiela nodded lamely. She felt exhausted and didn't have the heart to argue.

"You should really start attending house meetings," Œille said. "They're not really an option, you know."

Kiela looked at her. "I'm not needed to make any decisions or vote on situations. The rest of you are perfectly capable of sorting things out yourself."

"If everyone thought like that, there would be no point in even voting. The house heads would simply make the decisions for everyone."

"Wouldn't that be easier? You were selected for a reason."

Œille recoiled as if she had been slapped. "I was chosen because I was the best to represent our house, and to make small decisions. Not to lead it with ears of stone! That's what the elders are for."

Kiela shrugged, troubled. She hadn't meant to offend her. "I'll be at the tents." She promised. Œille opened her mouth, and then seemingly thought better of it. She got to her feet and left without a word.

Kiela sighed and relaxed back into her seat. For a moment she debated not going to kitchen duty, but she had given her word. Sighing, she too followed and left the tent.

Fifteen minutes later, she was seated on a stump, furiously scrubbing a few plates in a grimy wood basin. The warm, soapy water made her arms itch and her back ached. She pushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes as she fought to clean the last one. With a sigh of relief, Kiela moved all the plates to a small table to dry. She stood and stretched, relishing the stretch of her spine. The table was slanted, to allow for the excess water to slide off. Kiela grabbed the basin and headed into the woods to bury the water. Once she was done, she reported to Heru who was overseeing the cook tents for the week.

"In the far tent are a few bins of greens," Heru said. "Bring them to the open fire at this end, and give them to the people that are there to cook. They will send you to find various ingredients, and you have to fetch them." Kiela nodded, and set off. The tent that Heru had specified was actually quite far away, and Kiela broke into a jog to cover the distance. The tent was dark and humid, full of various crates. Kiela had to actually sniff her way from one end to the other, in order to find the designated container. It contained some form of ferns and fiddleheads, accompanied by a type of tuber. She hefted it and almost fell over from the weight. The crate was made of solid carved wood, and the food within it weighed a ton. Kiela was forced to drag it across the ground to the fire pits, which were on the complete opposite side of the field. Her cheeks burned under the gaze of passing shifters, and she forced herself to stand up tall and appear indifferent as she shoved the crate across the dirt. When she finally reached the pit she leaned against it for a few minutes to catch her breath. A voice came from the other side of the box.

"When you're quite finished, I need those cooked right away."

Kiela stepped around its edge. She knew that voice.

"You!" Lono snarled at her at the same time as she recoiled. Lono folded his arms over his chest.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Well you sound friendly," Kiela replied, "I've been drawn for kitchen duty."

"Oh, because you've been so warm and kind yourself," Lono shot back. "It was like talking to an iceberg."

"It's not like you made an effort either!" Kiela replied.

"Leave it to Freya to put me with you," Lono muttered. "You could have been drawn for anything else, but kitchen duty? Really?"

Kiela growled and balled her hands into fists. "Look, I don't want to be here right now, so let's just agree to not speak."

"That would be lovely, except I still need to tell you what to get." Lono shot back.

"Fine, then we'll talk as little as possible."

"Fine!" Lono replied.

"Good!" she answered, throwing up her hands and turning away.

"Get me the thyme," Lono ordered as she began to walk away.

"You could ask nicely!" she yelled back at him, but Lono didn't reply. Kiela jogged back to the storage tent and quickly found the sachet containing dried thyme. Thankfully, it was only about the weight of a small stone, and Kiela got it to Lono right away. When she reached his fire again, he barely looked at her.

"Pull that stone off the top of the fire." Lono ordered.

"That's your job!" Kiela replied in outrage.

"Do you want burnt greens at dinner tonight?" Lono asked furiously, "Because I certainly don't. Grab a pair of gloves and pull it off."

The stone slab was elevated above the fire, and the greens that Kiela had brought over were sizzling on top of it. Kiela pulled on the gloves and managed to yank the slab out from over the flames.

"Done yet?" Lono asked, turning around. His elbow accidently struck her across the face, and Kiela let out a hiss of pain. She stumbled backwards blindly and tripped over a bucket of lard that was sitting beside the fire. The lard spilled over the ground and into the flames. Kiela scrambled to find her footing, and she and Lono exchanged a glance. They both looked back at the lard. For a minute, noting happened. Tongues of flame danced around the spilled substance until it suddenly ignited in a blaze of light. Lono grabbed Kilea and pulled her away, a second away from being scorched. The sparks flew through the air to a nearby tent and lit it as well. The fire spread form tent to tent.

Kiela and Lono looked at each other, then the fire, and then back.

"We're dead," Kiela breathed.

"Run." Lono replied.

They both took off away from the fire. Kiela wove through the tents and tried to match herself with Lono's frantic pace.

"Where are we going?" she yelled over the wind.

"To hide," Lono replied. "Preferably for the rest of our lives."

No one paid them any attention, as Shifters streamed out of their tents and raced towards the burning section of camp. Kiela dodged a running lynx as she and Lono turned between two tents. Suddenly a shape stepped out in front of them. Kiela and Lono were going to fast to stop, and they slammed into it. A huge hand descended and grabbed the collar of Kiela's shirt.

"And where might you be going?" a voice asked. Kiela squinted against the sun into the face of Heru.

"We were just going to grab some more firewood," Lono said quickly. Kiela nodded.

Heru surveyed the burn holes that littered their clothing, and the ashes that lay in Lono's hair. "Of course." Heru said. "Silly me, I thought the wood was to be found in the forest, which is that way," he pointed in the opposite direction from where they were going. "I didn't know you could find firewood in Lake Fiölir."

Kiela opened her mouth to say something, but Lono stepped on her foot. She shot him a glare.

"You are both going to put out the fire, and then you will both meet me right after at my tent. Go."

Lono nodded and yanked Kiela after behind him. "You don't argue with Heru," Lono told her. "It makes it worse off in the end."

They reached the inferno and lined up with the other shifters, passing buckets in a line to where the flames were the worst. Burning wood and glowing ashes littered the ground, and the nearby tents were reduced to skeletal posts or piles of cinder. The sight made Kiela sick. Ramsea stood near the line, directing the group. The tents within range were dismantled and pulled away, and when the fire was finally put out, the ashes were carried away and buried.

Dark soot streaked Kiela's face and hands, and Lono didn't look much worse. They walked together to Heru's tent and waited for him outside. When he finally appeared, he was livid.

"Ten tents!" he snarled. "Ten tents were destroyed from a fire you set. And what's more, the second they lit ablaze, you ran away and left it to someone else to clean."

Kiela bowed her head in shame. "We're sorry," she said. "We truly are."

Heru sighed. "I know, but that doesn't change anything. You will go apologize to everyone that lost their tents today. You will give up your tents to those people and will sleep outside in your animal forms. In addition, you will receive a punishment. You will collect every stone within a ten pace radius from my tent and pile them at the other side of camp. The pile cannot exceed two paces wide, and if it does then you will be doing it all over again, with a greater distance. You have two days."

"What?" Kiela gasped. "That is completely unfair!"

Heru's eyes glinted. "What's unfair is that ten people lost their homes today. Now go do it. I don't want to hear as single word form either of you until you are ready to apologize."

Kiela glared at him mutinously, but snapped her jaws shut. Lono glared at her and grabbed her arm. "We're going," he said. Heru's eyes flashed.

"I said not a word." The elder reiterated. "They're waiting outside the tent. Now go."

Lono dragged Kiela outside, and stopped short. At least fifty people stood wedged into the gaps between rows of tents. They all stopped talking and glared at Lono and Kiela. A quiet sobbing came from somewhere at the back of the crowd. Lono cleared his throat, but his voice came out weakly.

"We're sorry," he said. Silence filled the air. Lono cleared his throat again. "We really didn't mean to. We will try and help re-build." The gazes of the gathered shifters moved to Kiela. She swallowed drily.

"I apologize as well," she whispered. The words physically hurt. No one moved, until Heru exited the tent. He clapped a hand over each of their backs. "Well, there you have it." He said. "Go. We will have a team of builders near your spot by morning." Slowly the group began to disband, but the angry glances never left. 

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