It is often said that the beastkin people have strong constitutions, so it was exceedingly strange when I fell ill several weeks ago. I had never been sick in my entire life, but I was suddenly bedridden and delirious with high fevers. Our tribal shaman was afraid that I wouldn’t tolerate the harsh weather of the steppes, so she had advised my father the chieftain that I was too ill to travel. Reluctantly, he decided that our flocks of sheep could not wait for my recovery, and that our tribe would need to move on and follow the seasonal rainfall.

  On the 28th day after my family departed, my fever broke, and I woke up with a foreign set of memories inside of my head.

  Oddly enough, I was fully self-aware about it. If I had been any more superstitious, I would have said it was divine inspiration from the gods. Many religious prophets from Earth cimed that their holy scripture came from dream-like revetions. The biblical story of Moses began with a vision of a burning bush, which inspired him to begin the Exodus of his people. Of course, I didn’t want to accidentally start a brand new religion in this fashion, but I had woken up with so much enthusiasm that the shaman who had diligently cared for me the past month must have thought I was possessed.

  “Please drink your medicine, Ariadne…” the beastkin healer begged me.

  “I feel perfectly fine! I’m not sick anymore!” I declined.

  To the shaman’s dismay, I ran out of the tent barefoot, wanting to escape the thick smell of medicinal incense that had tortured my sensitive nose for weeks.

  A gust of sand blew across the high rocky outcrop, and I immediately shielded my eyes. My lush lupine tail billowed in the wind, and I confirmed that the fluffy ears atop my head were still present. I was undeniably still me — and I certainly wasn’t that tailless monkey from Earth that had rudely invaded my brain without warning. My ego was stronger than that other person, and I very much wanted full control of my own body.

  It was regrettable that the other girl’s psyche was consumed in the process, but I wasn’t going to roll over and let an Otherworlder occupy the driver’s seat.

  Transmigration result: failure!

  + + +

  Admittedly, it was very strange experience to look at an ordinary pile of sand, yet have fshing notifications in my brain that the molecur formu was silicon dioxide (SiO2). It was rather difficult to ignore the intrusive thoughts, and I couldn’t help this uncomfortable sensation that I was living in a very primitive society at the very beginning of the Bronze Age.

  I had grown up here for sixteen years, and I obviously had no problem with the pastoral way of life up until now.

  However, I had somehow become self-conscious of the fact that I wasn’t wearing any kind of underwear. The sheepskin hide on my torso had very minimalistic coverage, and it was certainly very breezy. Fortunately, my species had retively small mammary gnds, so the ck of any chest support wasn’t any serious inconvenience.

  Calliope, the elderly shaman, hobbled outside after me while holding her staff.

  “You’ve only just recovered, so you really ought to rest inside. The wind spirits are especially vigorous today, and they’ll blow the good health out of your body.”

  “Nana… I’m fine,” I repeated, tired of her overprotective fussing.

  “You may be the chieftain’s daughter, Little Aria, but I am responsible for your health. We still don’t know why you fell so ill, and I have a bad feeling about it. What if you were possessed by an evil spirit? Are you sure that absolutely nothing feels different at all?”

  I brushed aside her concerns.

  If I mentioned anything about gaining new memories, the shaman would surely be worried sick. Moreover, I didn’t want to stay in this deserted settlement any longer than I needed to. My brain was overflowing with new ideas, and I needed to speak to someone (like my reliable older brother) who would actually listen to me.

  “I’d like to catch up with everyone else as soon as possible. Which way did they go?”

  The Varg (wolf) cn was a nomadic tribe with a popution of around 500 members. We migrated between encampments on a seasonal basis, although the elderly and disabled often stayed in one pce. I understood that my family had left this area nearly a month ago, so they were likely hundreds of leagues away. However, I was confident that I’d be able to track them down.

  “No, you’re not going anywhere,” the shaman said sternly.

  “Nana… I’m sixteen already… I’m an adult and I can travel by myself.”

  “That’s not the point. You’re malnourished and frail after spending a month in bed. I am not letting you leave until you regain some weight.”

  I immediately frowned.

  While I wasn’t happy to hear this, but she wasn’t wrong. The objective part of my brain knew that I had lost a lot of my physical strength and muscle mass.

  “Then let me get my bow,” I said impatiently. “I’m going hunt and then eat.”

  The sooner I regained some weight, then the sooner I could leave.

  Not bothering to wait for Calliope’s response, I ran to the hidden cliffside caves where our tribe stored supplies. It only took a few minutes before I found my favorite bow, which had been packed away while I was bedridden in the shaman’s tent. The bow needed to be restrung, which honestly took a lot more effort than I was ordinarily used to, but it seemed like my hunting equipment was in good condition.

  The composite recurve bows that my tribe employed were a pride of our cn. It was no exaggeration to say that they were very likely the most powerful bows that existed in this time period, although we weren’t able to produce very many given that there were so few of us. It took at least two years to craft a single high-quality bow, and it was no joke to say that this was one of my most valuable possessions. The core of the bow was made of thin strips of antelope horn, mulberry wood, and animal sinew, bonded together with glue extracted from animal hides.

  The hide glue was created by heating (but not boiling) raw hide in a cy pot of water, which produced getin containing fibrous proteins like colgen and estin. When applied hot, it was a simple yet effective adhesive. It was an aqueous product, which meant that the glue would dissolve when exposed to water. As a matter of practice, the three-yer bows that we created had to be kept dry or else they would split apart catastrophically.

  The bowstrings were made from animal sinew. Our craftsman preferred the lower leg tendons of rge game such as antelope, and after drying the tendons, they were pounded with a smooth rock to separate the fibers. The fibers were twisted together in a form of two-ply cordage, and additional fibers spliced in evenly in order to extend the length. This process could be repeated several times to improve the strength.

  We had many different types of arrows, but my current set was made from geese (tail) feathers and bone points that were suitable for hunting small game. The arrowhead was hafted into a notch in the shaft using hide glue and animal sinew.

  Altogether, I had six arrows and an excellent quality recurve bow.

  + + +

  I was just about to slip away using the rear exit of the abandoned settlement with a pack mule and a set of camping supplies when the old shaman finally caught up to me, panting as she rested with her hands on her knees.

  “Ariadne, please! Slow down!” She begged.

  …This old dy was so persistent today.

  “Is there anything you want me to get for you?” I asked her. “It looks like my brother took the horses and eagles when they left, but I might still be able to take down a fox or a crane. If I’m lucky, I can even try for argali (mountain sheep), but it might take more time. A three-day hunting trip seems reasonable, don’t you think?”

  Contrary to popur belief, hunting on the steppes was frequently a multi-day affair. It was simply more efficient to extend one’s range by spending multiple days on the trek, rather than returning empty-handed every single evening.

  “I know I can’t force you stay home… but please stay away from the river. Also, don't start any fires. We cannot have the smoke.” Calliope said.

  This statement confused me.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, perplexed.

  + + +

  “There is a hominid barge moored on the river,” the Shaman expined stiffly. “They’ve set up camp on the banks near the old Divination Tree, and it seems like they haven’t noticed that there’s a tribal encampment nearby.“

  Currently, including Calliope and myself, there were five beastkin who still lived in this deserted settlement. Every winter, my tribe sheltered in the natural caves that lined the walls of this valley. When the spring rains arrived, we would vacate the area and lead our flocks to better pastures, leaving behind only a handful of elders who were too feeble to migrate with the seasons.

  Our elders clearly could not defend themselves, so Calliope probably thought it was safer if we stayed hidden.

  My ears twitched, bristling subconsciously at the thought of city-dwelling monkeys nearby.

  “What are they even doing here?” I asked with displeasure.

  “I don’t know. They’ve been digging ditches.”

  Trenches in the earth…

  That implied they were pnning to stay here for a while, didn’t it?

  “I’m going to go take a look,” I told Calliope frankly.

  “That’s… the exact opposite of what I said!” She excimed in utter dismay.

  Ignoring the shaman, I coaxed my pack mule into descending down the rocky trail. Lakka — my good-natured companion for this journey — was excellent with rugged terrain, but I still needed to take care with my decisions in the wilderness. There was only so much daylight, and I definitely preferred to take advantage of every minute when the weather was still good.

  My tribe believed that the wind spirits were fickle, and the clouds could abruptly sour at the turn of a dime. When heavy rains poured into the valley, this area was especially prone to fsh floods.

  “I’ll make sure to stay hidden,” I promised her.

  The old healer exhaled in frustration, clearly unable to rein in my headstrong personality.

  “Children these days…” Calliope muttered underneath her breath.

  ?