Moving Scarletra`s stuff into their home was calm and uneventful; no beasts of the world challenged them while camping, nor did any storm batter them during the trip through the alpine. It was a wonderful experience, letting them kindle their relationship a little more each day through small gestures of care and aid, cooking for one another, having items on hand the other needed, and, of course, cuddling to keep each other warm against the biting cold.

　　 While Scarletra had the ideal images of life, Levaal had shown her in dreams swirling around her headspace the entire time. She had yet to bring it up to Samuel, not for any lack of desire or malicious attempt to force another family upon him, but because they were thrust waist-deep into tasks upon returning.

　　Samuel had to repair several solar panels damaged by a passing storm, while Scarletra focused on learning the repair process. None of it was too difficult, other than splicing wires. They were puny, and her thick fingers had trouble holding them and using the lighter. Thankfully, Samuel was patient and understanding about the issues with her anatomy. And let her try repeatedly until the work was to his standards.

　　Scarletra knelt before the totems of the gods. Having the representations of the gods close at hand was terrific, setting them up just off to the side of the outpost`s main door, along with several metal bowls for offerings.

　　 Samuel did not seem to mind her morning religious practices because she prayed first thing in the morning and did not hinder any of their daily duties. He had even joined her a few times, wanting additional lessons about the Varintol pantheon. But Scarletra was not able to tell him more than she already had. Her practices, stories, and understanding of each god and goddess were slightly better versed than most Varintol, but she could not hold a candle to the priestess.

　　They have every word of the stories flawlessly memorized. And could spend days speaking on any of the gods and what lessons can be gained from their tales. Scarletra could remember hearing them tell her stories of Hurot`s battles almost daily under their tutelage. A small part of her wondered what Suluna was doing nowadays.

　　 Over the last week, Scarletra had prayed to two specific goddesses more than the others. The Great Mother for general guidance and protection over the outpost, Samuel and herself, hoping the Great Mother could keep their workload low and free time high.

　　She had also given libation to Levaal so the goddess would cherish the young couple. If it would not seem pathetic, Scarletra was fully prepared to beg the goddess of love and life to keep her and Samuel`s relationship safe and allow it to bear as much fruit as possible. This was her first chance at having a blissful life; coveting it was only natural, and she would take all the help possible.

　　 Samuel left the outpost several hours ago to gather wood for the biodiesel generator, needing to restock after their long trip to and from her cave. Scarletra had tried to go along, but Samuel insisted he did not need her as all he would do was cut apart tree limbs before loading them onto a sled and returning. To her chagrin, her cute human companion would not budge on the matter no how much they argued that it was dangerous, so she acquiesced and let her warm fire go alone.

　　Without Samuel around, Scarletra planned to continue working on Sarah`s memorial after praying. The statue was almost entirely done. All that was left was refinement and final checks. The work will be done in a week or so with her available time. Thinking about how Samuel would react made her heart patter and chest ache with anticipation. Would he like it? Think it was nice? Or despise the idea? She was unsure but would finish the project and proudly present the gift to her warm fire.

　　 The worst way he could react was crying in agony. While it was not a pleasant thought, Scarletra knew it was a possibility. She prayed before Levaal to guide him to a gentle grieve, not a baleful wail. While Scarletra would help, cuddle, and comfort him no matter what, she would rather not see the cute human crying.

　　 As Scarletra prayed and burned pine before Levaal, a vile scent rolled in on the gentle breeze, combining honey, wine, and blood. She was intimately familiar with it but never wished to experience that foul odor or woman attached to it again. Her fur stood on end as the snow crunched and trees rustled behind her.

　　Looking around for the source, there was nothing but the trees gently swaying and the cold whistling of the winds traveling down the mountainside. Scarletra`s heart stammered momentarily, hoping she just had imagined it. Still, she took a deep whiff of the cold air and adjusted her head to face upwind to confirm the thought. Scarletra sighed, quickly pinpointing the region of the alpine slopes the violent scent was drifting from.

　　"I know you are out there, Finnula," Scarletra challenged in Varintol, her voice echoing far and wide through the valley. "I also know you aren`t alone."

　　The valley was silent for some time, long enough for Scarletra to wonder if an arrow would slam into her chest while waiting. Finnula generally did not enjoy ranged warfare, but it had been years, and a lot could have changed. Eventually, the interlopers began to make their move, slinking forward through the pines like ghosts.

　　Finnula breached the thicket, marching forward, confidence oozing off her and the posse of scouts spreading out into a reverse wedge in the open ground between the forest and the outpost.

　　"I thought the misbegotten third daughter had been long taken by Maruvak, but I guess we were wrong in that assumption," Finnula leered, pulling an ax from her belt.

　　 Scarletra knew Finnula well, having fought together in several campaigns before Scarletra was named or cursed by Hurot. That she and a scouting band were at the outpost was concerning. Mother did not waste assets of feckless acts; they had a purpose for being in Barut`s hunting grounds, and there was no way it was meant to be peaceful. If you come across this story on Amazon, it`s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

　　 "What do you want?" Scarletra growled as Finnula stepped out from the center of the wedge toward Scarletra, stopping just out of arm`s reach but at the edge of axe range.

　　 "I was just sating a curiosity. We encountered a strange creature out there with a roaring tool cutting up trees. I swore I smelled you of all people on that thing, so—-," Finnula started.

　　 "What did you do to Sam?" Scarletra snapped, knowing very well the clan would have made no qualms with hurting, enslaving, or killing him, given a reason.

　　But Finnula was particularly cruel to the village men; she did not even need a reason other than that she felt like it. If she hurt Samuel, Scareltras desires to not be violent be damned; Finnula would not take a single step before Scareltra ripped her head off.

　　 Finnula paused momentarily, not backing up and the outburst but looking Scarletra up and down curiously, paying keen attention to her attire and nylon rigging. She glanced back at the outpost before her cold cobalt eyes locked back on Scarletra.

　　 "We didn`t touch that thing. I just wished to see if Hurot was blessing our campaign with the Guraen by bringing you to light after all these years," Finnula sneered, patting her ax head against a shoulder. "Mother has been wondering when you would come crawling back to her, begging to be given another chance."

　　 "That`s not happening," Scarletra replied. "I have a new home and clan." "What makes you think you have a choice?" Finnula said, gesturing at her scouts. "We have you outnumbered, and blessed by Hurot or not, you can still be taken down."

　　Scarletra extended her claws, having no other weapons on her. She quickly assessed what was in front of her, taking stock of her tactical situation. She did not want this to devolve into a fight, not with Samuel close enough and likely to return any moment. If possible, Scarletra would end this peacefully and not fight at all, but she doubted Finnula would have any desire to be talkative, like usual.

　　 The orange-furred Varintol was not blessed by Hurot, but she was still dangerous with an ax, just like the one taught in her grip. She was the closest to Scarletra and was fast, but not as quick as Scarletra. If peace could not be brokered, her jaw would be ripped off before the ax could move from her shoulder.

　　 Scarletra carefully traced over the other five Varintol scouts; she did not know them by sight or smell, so they were an unknown factor. That did not make her feel any better about the situation at hand. For all Scarletra knew, they were cursed like she was, and this field could become a bloodbath.

　　They were armed with bows, spears, axes, and even javelins and wore subdued, hard leather armor. So, their being cursed was unlikely. Mother rarely sent out those guarded by Hurot on simple scouting missions.

　　 Assuming the six were just regular scouts, with Hurot`s curse, Scareltra could not just take them in open combat but would slaughter them. She would not come out of it unscathed, and they could get a lucky hit and kill her. Her heartiness was one of the few things about Hurot`s rage Scarletra appreciated; most strikes that would debilitate meant nothing in the blood rage. If an attack did not kill her instantly, her body would keep fighting while Hurot possessed her mind.

　　 "Finnula, we both know you don`t want this fight as much as I do," Scarletra snarled in a warning.

　　 Finnula sighed and looked back at her troops. They were all greenhorns with little to no real experience. But they all knew the tales of Scareltra the bloody. They were nervous, unable to keep their weapons still or stop staring in awe at the living legend in front of them. If Finnula was being honest, she was horrified of trying to capture Scarletra; There was no way they all would make it out of this upcoming fight. Most would die, and the survivors, if there were any, would be walking wounded, unable to fight.

　　 "Where is the honor in not fighting," Finnula shrugged, accepting her duty and expectations as a unit leader and a warrior of the Ursana. "Mother would have my head if I did not even try,"

　　 "Is there anything I can say to make you not do this?" Scarletra nearly pleaded.

　　 Finnula was about to reply when a new voice broke through the tension between the two warriors.

　　 "Scar, what is going on," Samuel said, walking past the Varintol scouts, rifle slung across his chest, leaving a sled of branches behind him.

　　The scouts watched him in awe or morbid curiosity; no male in their village would dare to enter their formation. Mother or any commander would severely punish any so bold. They must have wanted to see what their commander did, or they just did not know what to do themselves to stop the strange-looking male.

　　 Scarletra screamed internally; this was bad, no, it was horrendous. Samuel had just walked into what was about to become a slaughterhouse and was either unaware of the danger or simply did not care. She had to get Samuel out of there. He would not stand a chance if Finnulla attacked him in melee, even though Samuel likely weighed the same amount as Finnula. She was a warrior, and he was not a fighter.

　　 "Did you not hear me?" Samuel asked, nearing the interloper commander.

　　 "What do you want, you deformed male?" Finnula growled in Varintol.

　　 Samuel paused for a moment, looking at Finnula. "Scar, what`s her issue?" He questioned, diverting towards Scarletra.

　　 "Are these people from one of the other tribes or—" Samuel started to say but was cut off when Finnula punched him in the jaw, knocking him to the snow.

　　Scareltra`s heart clenched and raced, seeing Samuel land limply in the snow, not moving. She growled loudly, and her vision flushed red.

　　 "Can`t you see the women are talking to filthy little cur?" Finnula yelled at Samuel with authority, stepping closer, raising her ax, blunt side toward Samuel, readying to hammer a lesson into him.

　　 Before Scarletra or Finnula realized it, the flag had been dropped. And Scarletra slammed full force into her former comrade. Scareltra dug her claws deep into Finnula`s shoulders, picking her up and slamming her into the frost like she weighed nothing. Scareltra bellowed her defiance, accepting her curse to defend their home.

　　Hurot roared in her ear, guiding her mind and body to hyper-violence. The last thoughts of consciousness, as Hurot took over, were simple: Protect Sam no matter the cost.