User blog:Rainperch/Survival tips in Khovai

As all the residents of Alo, we know that Thenkorei disappeared for quite some time. We also know that when it was gone, the Kinvaxin nearly went extinct. But they didn't.

One of the most frequently asked questions among curious species is "How?". And how did the Kinvaxin stay alive long enough to evolve into the modern four?

Well, it all started when a young, starving Kino picked up a rock. Of course, many, many, many, many young children had picked up rocks, and sticks, and blades of grass. So how was this any different? The child and her family were starving. The only non-toxic clothes they had were shredded scraps of thin fabric and material that they could only barely drape over their shoulders. Their ribs were so prominent, you could count them over and over and never miss one. Their stomachs might as well have been the size of henef berries, and their voices were raspy. This child, by the name of Losi, had been thrown outside for the time being. Their small leaf tent could only fit two, and her brother had just come back from the market, grasping the oblong rusty coin in his paw. There had been no purchases to make today. None that they could afford. One of Losi's claws had been stubbed and there were flakes of claw coming off of it. As Losi slowly sat down on the dusty ground of their home in Firado, a small, jagged rock gleamed at her from a cluster of Juline plants. Kino slowly got on her hands and knees and wiggled though a thorny gap in the leaves to grasp the rock tightly in her paw. She sat back down and lifted the rock up to cover the sun. It glistened with hidden hues of red and orange from inside its dark brown surface. A rustling in the plants startled Losi, and she dropped the rock on her knee, opening a gash. The floating plants were lazily pushed aside and bobbed on an invisible surface. The inverted head of a Keilei pushed aside the more stubborn plants. "Tekekaila..." it whispered in the broken imitation voice of a Keilei. Its teeth quivered. It placed a foot outside of the plants, then two... then three. Losi quickly grabbed and squeezed the rock again, afraid. The creature's tail curled in anticipation. And it lunged forward. Losi shrieked and threw the rock as hard as she could at the Keilei in self-defense. Mid-lunge, it said, surprised, "Ko?" And with a groan, the creature fell onto Losi's lap.

The young Kino scrambled out from under the Keilei's shock-blue body and sprinted to her tent, her chest heaving in effort and fear. ''Were there more? Were they going to eat her?''

You'd have thought that a Kino would have known to stay away from the fields: they were teeming with the vicious creatures. And young Kino were the perfect prey for a hungry one. But at this moment in time, Losi had forgotten all about what her mother had told her about them.

Losi nearly crashed into her family's den as she scrambled to a halt, her feet sore from stepping on sharp rocks on the way. The wound on her knee was covered in brown desert dust and stung fiercely. "Mother!" she half yelled half gasped.

"What is it, butterfly?" her mother responded, concern in her voice. "We'll talk about it later, Kiol," she whispered so that it was barely audible. Losi did not hear. Her mother pushed aside the woven leaf entrance and came outside to her daughter. Her eyes widened. "Losi! What have you gotten yourself into? Not another fight, pray to Thenkorei," she exclaimed, holding Losi at arm's length. She pulled her into an embrace. "What was it, really, Losi? Please don't tell me it wasn't another fight."

Losi pulled away and took a few trembling breaths before speaking. "There was... a... Keilei in the field..." she said in gasping breaths. "It died... though... I don't know... how..."

Losi's mother make a weird squeaking noise and put her hand over her snout, tears springing into her eyes. "Oh, butterfly! You could have died! A Keilei! Oh, Losi!" she cried. Her hand was shaking as she put it around her daughter's shoulders and guided her to the tent. She pushed into the calming darkness and called, "Kiol...?" in a shaky voice. "Mum, I'm here, what's wrong? I heard something outside but couldn't hear all of it..." he trailed off as he looked at Losi and his mother.

He only hesitated for a moment before rushing to Losi's unoccupied side. He wrapped his arm around her and walked the young Kino to the makeshift table, letting their mother stumble over to a cushion on the dusty floor. Kiol took a small, wooden vial from his pocket. He slowly pulled out the bound grass lid and gently let a single drop of a cloudy white liquid spread over Losi's wounded knee. Losi stifled a cry and gripped her brother's long fur.

"Now tell me what happened, Losi," he whispered gently, smoothing back her ears for a moment. Losi sniffled.

"A K-keilei attacked me," she said, in a wavering voice. Kiol pulled his sister into a hug.

"Well, you're okay now. You're here with us."

Losi's mother sighs. "I'm glad you're okay, Losi." she said, running her hand through her head fur. "Well... Kiol... It is meat, even though I don't know how it died. Could you... could you go get it?"

Kiol stands up, leaving Losi on the cushion.

"Yeah, sure," he says, pushing through the entry cover without another word.

As Kiol walks through the streets, several other Kino and Sechixes glance at him. Kiol didn't realize he still had a streak of blood on his hand from his sister's knee. He stuffs his hand in a torn pocket and continues walking to the field. Soon enough, the smell of Keilei blood greeted him, along with the creature's dead body lying on the ground. Kiol sighed and took out his knife. It was a dented, scratched thing given to him by his great-great-great-grandfather, who was alive during the Second Generation. Apparently he was the great-grandson of a Kinvaxin. So the knife must have endured a lot- from the days when food was easy to get to the days when you were starving and living in fear- now. Kiol picked the Keilei up by its neck so that it hung limp. Then the Kino draped it across his knees and made a small cut in its neck, then making it deeper and wider until he cut it all the way down. The exposure to the chemicals in the air would dry out the Keilei's organs and guts so that Kiol could take them out easily. After thirty or so minutes of waiting, Kiol decided it was time to finish skinning and gutting the creature. Better to do it here than inside the tent and make a mess. He takes his knife and scrapes out the Keilei's guts, dropping them into some thick plants. It would be food for some other creature. Kiol continues to skin the creature, putting the pelt in his pack to sell. He cuts the claws, leaving just the fourteen clawless legs. There would be no way to remove the skull until the entire thing was either eaten or used. Kiol slings the Keilei over his shoulder and makes his way back to his tent.

More people watch him, carrying the large haul on his shoulder. Some people whisper to their neighbors. This is a sight to see, especially with the extreme famine that has overtaken Dura for centuries. Unconsciously, Kiol holds onto the dead Keilei even tighter. Soon he pushed into the tent flap and drops the meat on the wooden slab that acts as their table. They have it better than most residents of Firodu, most of which are homeless.

"Kiol?" his mother calls. "You're back?"

She comes in through the back flap. Losi must have been playing outside with the neighborhood kids. Kiol can hear the exited cries of "Uchiage!" and "Bakuran!" from out on the street. The occasional drift of the tan, sandy dust that covers everything laps at the tent entrance.

"Oh! You brought it. It scares me to think of some monster like this nearly killing my daughter," she says worriedly. "Well, it'll at least keep us... well, full for a few weeks. I guess we have your little sister to thank for it, even though I have no idea how she killed it."

"You think she killed it? She couldn't have. She has no weapons, and she's skinny as a stick. That thing was twice her size, and ten times more powerful," Kiol argues. "Sorry. I just don't want her to get hurt, either."

He exhales sharply and goes outside to watch the kids play.

After a few Duran years, seven, to be exact, which amounts to 1932 days...

"ARRRGGHHHH!!!" yells Losi, jabbing her spear down on the dirt. She just barely misses her opponent, Req, a Sechix. Req had rolled out from under her and jumped back up, her spear also in hand. A smirk was on her face. "Can't geeettt meee!" she taunted.

"Quit! This isn't a game!" Losi shouts angrily.

Req's laughter rings around the room and her three tails flick out of sight. Losi whips around, her fur standing on end and her spear point directly out.

"Come on, coward. You're supposed to fight, not run,"