Storm Season | Shelha Series 2 | ✔

Chapter Thirty-Four: Morning

Dewdrops bejewel the skeletal trees;

The breath of the night is asleep in the leaves,

While the earliest sunlight caresses the sky;

The ground is damp but the rivers are dry.

The air is as clear as a looking glass,

And a a spider spins in the dying grass;

The sky is an endless blue abyss,

But there's never a morning as quiet as this.

The flood raged on through the evening and into the night. Near dawn, the storm chords died away. The surviving Hyenars dispersed across the landscape.

Morning dawned on an empty forest. Everything lower than a tail-length had been trampled flat, churned into the dirt now strewn with the bones of prey and unlucky predator. Trees bore the gouges of climbing claws, and many were missing branches. The craters of excavated prey burrows littered the ground. The only signs of movement were Drakons descending for an easy meal, and the slow trickle of bugs back down the trees.

Approaching midday, the clouds finally parted. A few birds began to chirp into the void of soundlessness, and a cool breeze began to blow. It cleared the scents of devastation and ruffled the leaves of riverside trees, adding a soothing rustle to the forest.

Far up the Seren river, eight boats rocked gently at the base of a waterfall. They had been rafted together with ropes and branches, but dead leaves piled over them like a heap of flotsam and they showed no signs of life. As the sun climbed to its peak, something stirred. A squealing erupted from the center of the raft, accompanied by a frantic rustling and an upheaval of the leaf pile.

"Dere's a spider on my shoulder! Get it off, get it off! Eeeeeeeee!"

The head of a small Watermouse popped from the leaves, accompanied by a pair of frantically swatting paws. The spider made itself scarce. Liberated from her oppressor, the Watermouse had a look about, then clapped her paws together. "Hup hup eveebody! It's mowning! Da Hyenaws all wan away! All gone now, hup hup!"

Muffled voices sounded from the other boats. An adult Rivrit was next to rise. He shielded his eyes against the sun. "By gum, yer righ', love. Bu' affernoon already?"

Slaves were shaking off their leafy blanket and shaking each other awake. A ragged cheer went up as a head count confirmed that everyone was safe and accounted for.

Jay checked on Wing and Chase while the slaves shoveled leaves into the river. It seemed those affected worst by the storm chords took the longest to recover. Cross and Ivy had been up and about for some time already.