The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe-Chapter 124: Oxygen felt scarce here
We left without torches.
Light would draw attention to us, so it was best to stick to our night vision. And even the moon lit a path for us.
In order to get there fast and not get tailed, Damar suggested I ride one of them.
Since it was late and there was not much vision, I decided to cling to Damar’s bag, like a piggyback ride.
"Let’s not go too fast. If we’re too fast, we’ll make a lot more noise." I said to him and he nodded.
And this way, Fenric could keep up without having to transform into his beast form.
We slipped past the edges of the tribe, moving fast and quietly. The farther we went, the quieter everything became. Even the insects seemed to thin out, their sounds trailing off with our speed until there was only the heavy brush of Damar’s tail over the ground and Fenric’s light footsteps.
The path south was rarely used.
No one had reason to go there—no one sane, at least. Since it was believed to be cursed, everyone avoided it as much as possible.
"I think you can drop me off here," I said. "We’re almost there."
"Are you sure?" Damar asked.
He had already begun to feel the texture of the soil and didn’t want me to feel it underneath my feet, but I smiled at him, assuring him that it would be fine.
"The ground won’t hurt me just because I step on it," I said and after hesitating for a few seconds more, he nodded and let me down.
Once I stepped on the ground, I immediately felt it.
The soil here was not normal.
At first, it was subtle and easy to ignore, but as we walked further in, the soil grew paler, and dust began clinging to my skin no matter how carefully I stepped.
Then it began to harden, cracking faintly under pressure, rough enough that I felt it clearly through the soles of my feet.
’So this is a land that’s salt flat.’ I thought. ’If used properly, it can be used as a storage area, but I’m sure the tigers are too scared of curses to even utilize it. They don’t know how blessed this land is. What a waste.’
After a little more walking, the air grew so heavy and I noticed the wind had completely died.
One moment it stirred the hair on my head, and the next it was simply... gone.
The pressure grew heavier, like the air was holding its breath and I felt uncomfortable.
Oxygen felt scarce here.
Fenric noticed it too. His posture shifted as his gaze swept the horizon.
"This place," he muttered, barely loud enough to hear. "It feels wrong."
I nodded, pulling the pelt tighter around my face.
Deadwood.
The name fits it so well.
Nothing grew here. No shrubs, no weeds, and not even stubborn grass. The ground stretched out before us in dull shades of white and grey, reflecting the moonlight in a way that hurt my eyes if I stared too long.
Damar walked close to my side, his presence steady, protective. When my foot slipped on a patch of powdery ground, his hand caught my arm instantly, firm but gentle.
"You alright?" he asked.
"Yes," I whispered, though my heart was pounding harder than before.
"Just let me carry you," he said but I shook my head.
"No, it’s fine. I’ll be more careful."
Still, he worried.
The farther we went, the more my skin prickled. Not with cold—but with a strange dryness, like the land was drawing moisture from me. I flexed my fingers, watching the pale dust cling to my skin.
It’s no wonder the place was called a cursed land.
For so many reasons, anyone would call it cursed.
It appeared barren, the air was not clean, and it was heavy; there was no wind, and just look at the way dust clung to the skin...
Anyone in this primitive era would call it a cursed land.
Even though it could be a good utility for building a storage and storing meat, it’s not something I’d like to work with when I don’t have modern tools to keep myself safe.
As blessed as this land was, it was no more than a curse for the inexperienced.
And this place was where my mother had been left for years.
The thought made my chest tighten.
Ahead, something broke the flat horizon.
There was a hut. It was the only thing besides rocks and stones that did not stay on this even and flat plane.
I slowed my steps without realizing it, my steps faltering.
Fenric followed my gaze.
"Is that—?"
"Yes," I said quietly, even before I realized it.
The wood of the hut was bleached pale by sun and salt, the roof sagging, as if it were tired.
A hut abandoned by everything was a good way to describe it.
My feet refused to move as I stood there, staring at the hut that had come into view.
This was it.
This was the place my father had walked to, again and again, carrying food, carrying guilt, carrying love that could not save.
It made me grow a certain respect for my father.
A man who loved his woman so dearly to the point he could go this far for her was a man indeed. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
If only he had a fraction of that love for me, I wouldn’t have suffered.
Somewhere inside that fragile structure was the woman I had spent my life believing had turned her back on me to enjoy life with no responsibilities.
My mother.
Damar’s hand reached for mine and he held me tight. Fenric stepped slightly ahead, scanning the area, alert and tense, to make sure nothing was wrong before we moved further.
The stillness pressed down on us, thick and suffocating.
We walked a bit more until we were very close to the hut and then I stopped, swallowing hard on my pain.
"Wait here," I said, though my voice trembled.
Fenric turned sharply.
"Arinya, you—"
"I need to do this," I said. "Just... give me a moment."
I took a single step forward but Damar did not let go of my hand.
He was adamant.
"If something happens to you just because I let go right now, Ari, I might die."
