BRUTH PAUSED AND LET THE WIND WHISTLE through the grass that hid her crouched form. The gut-sewn elk hides and smeared clay obscured her, but she knew nothing would completely blot out her scent. Bruth’s grip tightened on her spear. But she relaxed when she felt the wind shift back.
This would again make Bruth comfortably downwind of the sabretooth.
That was one thing acting in her favor. The other was the full moon. Bruth knew it didn’t make her vision even with the sabretooth’s, but it helped. There was also a pack of blade-toes - giant sloths - slowly lumbering through the grass of the Great Plain some distance ahead...perhaps those would be easier meals.
The full moon was also keeping her on track towards where the Star had fallen.
There was no word yet for “comet” or “meteoroid” in her language - her tribe of prehistoric hominids hadn’t encountered one yet. They’d certainly seen the Traveling Stars before, but this was the first time one had become a Fallen Star - and it had done so terrifyingly close to their current encampment.
But not close enough.
The elders had forbidden investigation. This was a sign from powers beyond their comprehension, and if it was intended for them it would have been delivered directly to them. Agreement had been nearly universal amongst the tribe’s people.
Bruth, clearly, was the exception which made it nearly universal. She could not stop thinking about the Fallen Star. What was it? Why had it fallen? Who had sent it? A burning need to know had spurred her through life, to explore the edge of the forests, to pick up spears when it wasn’t her place to, to bite newly discovered fruits not yet tasted. Her curiosity had shown her places and skills unknown to many. It was a surprise to no one that a Fallen Star had called her.
A glow drew Bruth further and further through the brush, despite the dangers. Gradually the ground parted. Bruth’s feet, wide and callused, moved from lightly burned grass to dried dirt. It wasn’t too hot to walk upon, because the area had cooled significantly. A crack in the earth grew wider and wider until Bruth felt she could have lied head-to-feet in the enormous depression three times over.
It was not especially deep, only four or five hands. Bruth used the spear to safely climb down, and then left it propped on the side of the cauldron as her eyes went wide and her breath escaped her.
At the far end of the impact-excavated earth was a glowing beautiful silver sphere. Light gently pulsed from it, and the surface was unnaturally smooth. Step by step Bruth got closer and closer to it, like a moth to a flame, until she felt her toes chill.
Bruth saw she’d stepped in a little river of silver liquid. She traced it back to the sphere, which did not have any cracks or obvious openings along the surface. It was more like the liquid silver was simply sweating from the Fallen Star, collecting at its base, and following the imperfections in the cut ground.
Fingertips dipped into the flowing silver felt the same cold chill. Bruth took a sniff, but couldn’t recognize the metallic scent. She was considering licking the substance when a sharp pang of pleasure tore through her body.
Surprised, Bruth stumbled backwards, tripping on her spear and falling ass-first out of the crater. She rolled along the burnt ground an arm’s length before stopping on her back. She writhed, her body experiencing physical revelry unlike anything she’d felt before. Her groin exploded, her breasts tingled, and if her hair hadn’t been shorn nearly to the roots Bruth would have gripped it in ecstasy. Instead she clasped her hands to the earth and dug her fingers into it.
Something welled up inside of Bruth. Something deep. Something more primal than she was. She didn’t completely understand what it was, only that it felt good and if she could have run to it she would have sprinted like a gazelle. As it got closer and closer Bruth realized she could not experience it fully and remain silent. She knew the sabretooth could still be near, knew it would hear her if she cried out.
Those were things she knew.
Bruth needed to fully experience what she didn’t know. No matter the risk.
Her scream was guttural. It echoed through the Great Plain, and still didn’t capture the joy Bruth was experiencing. Her volume fell away with the climax’s completion, leaving Bruth breathing haggardly beneath her elk skin.
For a few moments she did nothing but lock away the memories of what she’d just experienced so she could call on them later for consideration. Bruth took another deep breath, and her blood went cold. She hadn’t touched more of the silver fluid; the wind had shifted. She’d been loud and was now upwind of the sabretooth.
And something was moving through the brush.
Instinctively Bruth threw out her hand for the spear. She’d rolled within reach of it, but now her fingertip just barely brushed the rough wood. She reached again and found that her hand was somehow further away. It was then that Bruth felt how tight her body had become. She could feel that the ground was moving beneath her legs and back - no! She was inexplicably being dragged over ground...in towards herself? And were her elk skins getting heavier?
The hides which had once fit her form were beginning to overtake Bruth’s body. She was shrinking! Her body contracted bit by bit, slowly vanishing into her coverings. The clay camouflage smeared over her skin starting to crack and crumble away as its canvas contracted.
Bruth was overwhelmed with the sensation of bone diminishing and pulling on muscles and ligaments which followed. Her skin felt loose, then tight, then loose, then tight. Her finger- and toenails were uncomfortably struggling to keep pace.
This introspection was interrupted as a twig snapped in the grass. The glow of the Fallen Star reflected in the eyes of the sabretooth. Knowing it was spotted it loosed a roar and pounced. Unable to disentangle her legs from the hides, Bruth dove within the elk skins. The sabretooth had leapt for her head, and as she scurried under her outfit the weight of the beast landed inches away.
Coming out the other side Bruth turned to gauge the sabretooth’s next move. It spun around and had Bruth in its sight. She’d faced predators before, but this encounter pulled fear into Bruth’s core. In the past she’d been full-sized and armed - at the moment she was barely three hands tall - still shrinking - and without a weapon.
The sabretooth dove again, paws out with claws bared, jaws open for the kill. Bruth figured this worked on small prey not smart enough to wait and dive under the beast’s armpit at the right moment. As she rolled to the left, feeling the fur of the animal’s belly brush against her, she knew that would only work a few times.
Planting her acorn-sized feet in the dusty dirt Bruth considered new options. She saw her spear - now taller than her five times over - was still propped on the side of the crater. If she could get the sabretooth to pounce on it...no, Bruth shook the idea away. It wasn’t properly set in the ground below, the beast would just knock it over and fall into the…
That could work.
Another leap by the sabretooth and dive by Bruth brought her to the spear. She’d felt a claw drag along her side - the beast was learning. Bruth puffed up her naked body, attempting to obscure the point resting behind her. She roared - at her size it was a squeak. The predator was incensed, tired of this little creature escaping its clutches. It pounced again, this time without as much preparation. It knew what its food was doing to escape, this time it would-
Bruth dove to the side earlier, letting the sabretooth see the propped spear. In mid-air the beast tried to change trajectory, but it stayed on course. It knocked the stick harmlessly aside as it collided, but failed to land properly. Its momentum rolled it into the crater.
She heard the beast yelp and struggle. The huntress crouched and backed away from the cliff as a clawed paw slammed upon the flat ground, kicking up a dust cloud. Another followed, and the face of the sabretooth rose into view. The moonlight shone upon its eyes. The creature pulled itself out, standing with deep hungry breaths. It was done with this foolishness. It knew the tricks of its prey. Now was the time to eat.
Bruth held her ground and put her faith in the silver shine spread - soaked - over the sabretooth’s fur. As it prepared for the kill the sabretooth stopped. A sensation gripped it, one it could not comprehend, but it could feel. Its legs curled in on themselves and the beast fell over.
Mewing and grunting filled Bruth’s ears. The beast quivered and shook and didn’t know what to make of its experience. Bruth could feel that she had stopped shrinking. She took the time to find a stick and a piece of bark to arm herself with. Neither was sharp enough to kill the sabretooth while it was distracted, but would help once their battle recommenced.
As the predator returned to its senses Bruth saw it quickly shrinking. As it adjusted its posture the beast was aware that something was happening, but it had killed plenty of Bruth’s tribe before. As far as the sabretooth was concerned shrinking down to scale with Bruth was a return to the status quo.
One that the beast was fine with.
Bruth estimated that, compared to her current two-hand height, the sabretooth was the size of a rat. Fury burned in its eyes. Bruth gripped her stick and bark shield. The predator raised its haunches. Bruth wished she had proper weapons. The sabretooth knew this strike would be true.
Something above blocked out the moonlight. Before either could react, the giant paw of an oblivious blade-toe plummeted down and crushed the tiny sabretooth. Another paw landed by Bruth. She looked up at the massive ground sloths wandering through their warzone without the slightest awareness of what had been happening below. There were trees on the other side of the Great Plain, so that was where they were headed. They had no interest in the Fallen Star or the beings it had affected.
Bruth reached out and grabbed the long fur of the lumbering beast. She climbed up its foreleg and pulled herself onto its back. Bruth made her way to the base of the blade-toe’s neck and held onto the matted hair. Perched here she’d be safely taken to food and water. As she rode the gentle creature she watched the glow of the Fallen Star fade away.
Bruth considered her little naked form and was already thinking about how she could fashion more coverings from the fur she was seated amongst. She wondered how long she would remain so small. Forever? Was there some other aspect of the Fallen Star that could return her to normal? Would she need to wait for another one to bring her the solution?
These were not questions that worried or concerned Bruth too much. She could see the fruit trees and little pond that the sloths were headed to. That would feed them - and herself - for a day or two before the pack moved on. Plenty of time to fashion some fur around herself and proper protective tools for her new scale. Bruth felt no anxiety or rush to cure her reduction. Her tribe had for generations lived their lives at her former size. They’d explored, eaten, fought, survived.
Those were things she knew.
No one had lived on the Great Plain only two hands tall.
And Bruth was curious.