couldn’t bite through metal.
Trading came last and was only acceptable when hunting and foraging went poorly. There were some days when even Cora’s eyes could not help her out, and she was forced to bring special trinkets she had found to the vendors in exchange for food or clothes. Sometimes she was turned away. Some merchants didn’t like her smooth skin and natural hair. They said she was lucky to be born.
In those times, Cora felt a great amount of shame wash over her. It was her father who had been Utopian, though it was her who suffered for that. Despite having her mother’s mutant blood, she was still branded an outcast by many. Half of the village hated her. The other half tolerated her. Very few embraced her as a member of their community. Though, she had a few friends she could rely upon in times of need, and she was very grateful for that, for without friends you would find arrive at death’s door much faster than usual.
Footsteps could be heard outside of her home and Cora peered through a small hole in her wooden door to see a pair of ragged boots outside. She smiled and shifted the board aside. Outside stood a girl dressed in a simple tunic and tattered trousers. Her skin was closer to red than white and her teeth were sharp. Her eyes were sun-bright.
And – for a mutant – she was beautiful.
‘Shyla,’ said Cora, giving her friend a hug. She peered over the mutant girl’s shoulder to see a young man with silvery fur for hair. ‘And Lyle!’ she added in surprise.
Lyle was a special sort of mutant. He favoured the night over day, like Cora, but for different reasons entirely. Lyle’s mother had been bitten by a quick-claw while pregnant, causing some of the creature’s genetics to mix with her own. Both her and her son developed qualities of the quick-claws. While she could walk straight, Lyle had been born with a bent back and could only walk with his body tilted forward. He usually kept his sharp fingers on the ground, like the quick-claws.
‘Good morning, Cora,’ said Lyle, his eyes glowing in the darkness.
‘We came to help with the hunt tonight,’ said Shyla. She looked tired, as she should have been. Shyla didn’t usually wake until much later in the night.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Cora. It was not that she doubted her friends’ hunting abilities. Shyla was good with a knife and Lyle had his own brutal ways of taking down prey, though neither could see in the dark. It was only the lighted torches – keeping away the mutant monsters outside the village – that led them to her home.
‘Tell her,’ said Shyla to Lyle.
The boy mutant smiled giddily. ‘I found a nest of burrowers earlier.’
‘Burrowers,’ whispered Cora, glancing suspiciously around. There was no one to be seen, though she couldn’t chance it anyway. Burrowers were rare. She had only seen them once before and that was a long time ago. She had been inexperienced in hunting then. When she had raided a nest the last time, most of the burrowers had escaped and she was left with little meat to bring home. It was a disappointing day, though a day she learned much from.
‘The nest is just outside the village,’ said Lyle. ‘There are sharp-tooths lurking about during the day and that’s probably why no one has spotted them.’
Cora’s mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. Burrowers were mostly meat and hardly any fat. They had no fur to deal with and they were quite slow. They made great meals and their claws could be used to craft various useful things. The thought of getting her hands on even one of them caused her to forget her other chores.
‘When can we leave?’ she asked.
‘Right now if you want,’ said Shyla, smiling. ‘We thought that with the sharp-tooth asleep, you could help us out with the raid.’
Lyle snarled at the last word and Shyla clapped a hand over her mouth, apologizing over and over. Cora frowned but said
Trading came last and was only acceptable when hunting and foraging went poorly. There were some days when even Cora’s eyes could not help her out, and she was forced to bring special trinkets she had found to the vendors in exchange for food or clothes. Sometimes she was turned away. Some merchants didn’t like her smooth skin and natural hair. They said she was lucky to be born.
In those times, Cora felt a great amount of shame wash over her. It was her father who had been Utopian, though it was her who suffered for that. Despite having her mother’s mutant blood, she was still branded an outcast by many. Half of the village hated her. The other half tolerated her. Very few embraced her as a member of their community. Though, she had a few friends she could rely upon in times of need, and she was very grateful for that, for without friends you would find arrive at death’s door much faster than usual.
Footsteps could be heard outside of her home and Cora peered through a small hole in her wooden door to see a pair of ragged boots outside. She smiled and shifted the board aside. Outside stood a girl dressed in a simple tunic and tattered trousers. Her skin was closer to red than white and her teeth were sharp. Her eyes were sun-bright.
And – for a mutant – she was beautiful.
‘Shyla,’ said Cora, giving her friend a hug. She peered over the mutant girl’s shoulder to see a young man with silvery fur for hair. ‘And Lyle!’ she added in surprise.
Lyle was a special sort of mutant. He favoured the night over day, like Cora, but for different reasons entirely. Lyle’s mother had been bitten by a quick-claw while pregnant, causing some of the creature’s genetics to mix with her own. Both her and her son developed qualities of the quick-claws. While she could walk straight, Lyle had been born with a bent back and could only walk with his body tilted forward. He usually kept his sharp fingers on the ground, like the quick-claws.
‘Good morning, Cora,’ said Lyle, his eyes glowing in the darkness.
‘We came to help with the hunt tonight,’ said Shyla. She looked tired, as she should have been. Shyla didn’t usually wake until much later in the night.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Cora. It was not that she doubted her friends’ hunting abilities. Shyla was good with a knife and Lyle had his own brutal ways of taking down prey, though neither could see in the dark. It was only the lighted torches – keeping away the mutant monsters outside the village – that led them to her home.
‘Tell her,’ said Shyla to Lyle.
The boy mutant smiled giddily. ‘I found a nest of burrowers earlier.’
‘Burrowers,’ whispered Cora, glancing suspiciously around. There was no one to be seen, though she couldn’t chance it anyway. Burrowers were rare. She had only seen them once before and that was a long time ago. She had been inexperienced in hunting then. When she had raided a nest the last time, most of the burrowers had escaped and she was left with little meat to bring home. It was a disappointing day, though a day she learned much from.
‘The nest is just outside the village,’ said Lyle. ‘There are sharp-tooths lurking about during the day and that’s probably why no one has spotted them.’
Cora’s mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. Burrowers were mostly meat and hardly any fat. They had no fur to deal with and they were quite slow. They made great meals and their claws could be used to craft various useful things. The thought of getting her hands on even one of them caused her to forget her other chores.
‘When can we leave?’ she asked.
‘Right now if you want,’ said Shyla, smiling. ‘We thought that with the sharp-tooth asleep, you could help us out with the raid.’
Lyle snarled at the last word and Shyla clapped a hand over her mouth, apologizing over and over. Cora frowned but said
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