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every summer for as long as she could remember, she’d never realized how dangerous it could be. A bit shocked, she made her way to her cheering family. As she approached, their attention shifted to something behind her. She heard a deep-toned voice laughing and then say, "Boba thought my leg was a hare!"
    Confused, Azaria looked back and saw a hulking Boar Camp boy named Luzon limping up the hill with a spear completely through the fleshy part of his lower left leg. Large muscles protruded out of all parts of his body. Even his hairless head looked like it had muscles. Although everyone knew of Luzon and his hunter-warrior clan, Azaria was not close with him. The whole bald-headed family had little use for women, except for birthing and cooking. Luzon was little different and had hardly ever said more than a word to her, although she did vaguely recall playing with him when they were very young. Still, she felt bad and admired his fortitude. Most would be crying for their mothers right now, she thought to herself. When he passed by he looked her up and down, but only grunted. Azaria returned his gaze with an unsure smile.
    Some of the other younger contestants were searching for their spears as the judges shouted for them to leave them where they were. Azaria remembered them explaining they’d get them all back that evening, along with the furs from any hares they'd managed to kill. She didn't understand why the boys didn't listen, guessing maybe they'd been too nervous or excited to digest the information.
    The collective meat from the hunt would be given to those in charge of preparing the night's communal meal. As was tradition, a giant hare stew would be prepared and the participants would be honored for their contribution to the feast.
    After Luzon had passed, Azaria’s family turned their attention back to her. "Azaria, that was amazing! I think you might have won," her father said.
    "You killed eight rabbits!!" Quzo was yelling over and over, jumping up and down, too young to understand the rules completely. With seven spears each, it was only possible to bag seven.
    "Azaria, I'm so proud of you," her mother complimented. "I had no idea you were so talented with the light spear."
    Azaria was overwhelmed. She wasn't comfortable with this much attention, but the praise from her family felt nice. She allowed herself to bask in it. "Thank you, mother. But I only did what father advised. Father, your strategy was very effective."
    Azerban rewarded her modesty with a broad grin, asking, "Do you know how many you got?" He seemed preoccupied with figuring out if she had a chance at the title. "I counted at least five."
    "I'm not sure, father. I guess four, maybe five?" she said, shrugging her shoulders, not confident of the final count.
    "She killed eight rabbits!" Quzo insisted adamantly, looking back and forth between his sister and father, frustrated they weren't listening to him.
    "You two, leave her alone. She needs to rest," Zephia said, feeling overly protective. Now that she knew her daughter was safe, she was noticing the wounds some of the other contestants had suffered. She realized her mate's strategy had not only been effective - it kept her daughter from the bloody pandemonium. Had that been his plan all along?
    While listening to the squabbling Azaria noticed Dogahn not far off with his parents, a big smile on his face. He must have done well also, she concluded. The thought made her smile and then she felt the skin on her face warm. She knew she was blushing and wondered why. Thoughts of him had never produced that kind of reaction before. She had a sudden urge to go talk to him, but wasn't sure how to get away just yet. Instead, she turned back to her family, where Zephia was still lecturing her mate and son on giving her some space.
    "It's okay, mother. I'm all right," she assured her. She surveyed the field of contestants, noticing some of the other competitors also had blood dripping down their legs or