A Morning Among the Beastkin
Chirps and tweets—the birdsong tickling my ears announced the dawn. Sunlight slipped through the gaps in the crudely pitched tent, tapping at my eyelids.
"...Yaaawn~"
Inside the tent, the kids were huddled together, fast asleep. In the middle of them, a little girl stretched languidly and sat up. Maybe ten years old? Her cheeks, still baby-soft, puffed out as she opened her eyes. Whether she wanted to sleep more or for some other reason, her innocent face was set in a grumpy pout that didn't match.
Carefully, carefully. Not wanting to wake the others, she quietly pushed aside the tent flap and slipped outside.
The endless expanse of the Great Plains stretched out before her. Beyond the horizon where plains met sky, the sun was peeking out, ready to light the day.
"Oh, Ursa. Up already? We're eating breakfast before we head out today, so you could've slept a bit longer."
Turning toward the gentle voice, I saw a soft-featured woman smiling warmly. Behind her, the adults who had risen before the sun were bustling about.
"Just came out since I was awake anyway. I'll head back in soon."
"I see. How can a little one like you not need more sleep? Call the kids when the food's ready, alright?"
"Egh~"
It might've sounded a bit cheeky, but she just smiled and returned to her work.
Ursa. That's the name she called me—the name I'm known by in this world. I, a regular guy from the city, had been reincarnated into a girl from this world's barbarian tribe.
...
I realized I'd reincarnated into another world a year ago, the first time I opened my eyes. Going from a man's body constantly wracked with fatigue and muscle pain to a soft, squishy little girl's body? Impossible not to notice.
But how did I know it was another world? Don't misunderstand. Even as a city boy—not born there, but still—I wouldn't jump straight to "isekai" from seeing people living in huts and tents. Most would think "time slip" first, right? Probably.
But there was solid proof this wasn't my old world. I turned to watch the tribesfolk hurrying about. The burly man carrying boxes had small, round bear ears on his head. The woman stirring soup in a huge pot had her back half-hidden by a bushy wolf tail.
Humans with beast ears and tails. Beings utterly unlike anyone I knew. The barbarian tribe I'd reincarnated into was a beastkin community from another world.
...
The sun had fully crested the horizon. Right on cue, the clanging of pots signaled breakfast was ready.
Inside the tent, the other brats were still snoring away, except for me.
"Hey, you little punks. Get up. Sun's up."
I nudged the wolf beastkin kid sleeping at my feet.
"Mmm... just a bit more..."
Look at these guys? They crashed the moment the sun set— no way they're still tired. Unlike me from a futuristic advanced civilization, these wild kids must sleep like logs on their straw-and-fur beds.
If I left them like this, Frost Fang—the wolf beastkin making breakfast— that old hag would come chew me out for nothing. Good thing I had the perfect wake-up call for times like this.
Suuuuck...!
"Breakfast!"
"Food?"
"Food!"
"Fwood?!"
I took a deep breath and yelled, and the kids who had been dead to the world bolted upright.
"Lamb!"
No, even now you're yelling for lamb?
"Ursa! Breakfast is lamb, right?"
"Nah, bone broth."
"Nooo!! Please!!"
I shattered the tiger beastkin kid's hopes without mercy and shooed the now-awake brats outside first.
"Ugh... what a mess."
They'd bolted out to eat first, leaving the tent a wreck of tangled bedding.
"Sigh..."
I tidied the straw and fur with a sigh. Untangling what they'd twisted all night wasn't easy. But if I left it to those brats, it'd end up an irreversible mutant mess. So, unsasked, to preserve my (former) civilized dignity, I did the bedding every morning, no matter how annoying. Wanna change the world? Start by making your bed, right? Hoping this savage world would civilize someday, I finished up.
Time to separate straw and fur completely: 3 minutes.
"Heh. New record."
Proud of my improving skills, I stepped outside.
"Ursa sis~ Hurry! The soup's all gone~"
I dusted off my dirty hands and ran over to the huddled kids, already digging in. My stomach was growling too, so I hustled.
Clatter-clatter.
I reached the bear beastkin girl Sonya who called me. She'd already ladled out my share of the broth.
"Here, sis's soup. I got it for you~"
"Kya~ As expected of my Sonya. So thoughtful."
"Hehe~ That's a 'good job,' right? Then we're good!"
Sonya was one of the brats who especially stuck to me. I ruffled her laughing head and took the bowl, sitting beside her.
I'd been flip-flopping between soup and broth, but as a futuristic advanced civ expert, this was bone broth. Bones and greens boiled in water? Broth, duh. Not that the name matters—edible is what counts.
Slurp.
"Hm?"
A rich aroma and chunks rose from the bone-broth-soup.
Munch-munch... "Cheese and meat? Frost Fang! There's meat in this?"
Soup with cheese and meat—this one's definitely soup. What day was it? My eyes widened at the luxurious ingredients, way fancier than usual.
"Sharp nose on you. We're heading far today, so I added a bit."
"Far this time? That's why the adults were up early."
"Yeah. Eat up good. We'll move soon. Once you're done, pack your stuff."
Our tribe was nomadic right now. We'd had a settled land once, but some reason forced us to wander. With our large size, travel was slow. "Far" meant a long haul, so they wanted an early start.
The sun was higher now. Roughly 7 a.m. by angle. We'd leave before 8, so packing tents and loading up would eat the hour quick. Calculations done, I shoveled in the soup.
My small mouth puffed hamster-like as I crammed it down.
Munch-munch.
"All done~"
As I finished and headed to pack, Frost Fang—the old hag sorting dishes—called me back.
"Ursa. Don't pack. Go see the Bear Elder. He's asking for you."
"...Bear Elder?"
...
Beastkin tribes aren't single-species. Bear, snake, tiger, deer, horse, hawk, wolf. Seven kinds helping each other in a community. Kids aside, each race stuck to their own for living and roles. Except warriors, they didn't cross lines much.
Leadership: One elder per race, elected. The one all elders approve becomes chieftain. But the chieftain seat had been empty forever, so the seven elders ran things now.
Among them, the most influential was the one I was off to see: the Bear Elder.
Bustle-bustle.
Bear beastkin hauled gear busily. Most tents down, but one stood out, untouched: the Bear Elder's.
"Knock knock."
I made noise at the cloth-covered entrance.
"Enter."
A deep voice rumbled from inside.
Swish.
I parted the flap gently and went in.
A massive bear beastkin filled the space, sitting and studying a map. He looked up at my footsteps.
Calling me and then what?!
"...Ursa."
"Bear Elder. You called?"
"Yes. I have words for you. Sit comfortably."
"Nah! I'd have to look up anyway standing. Sitting'd snap my neck."
"...Then fetch that chair and sit. Can't relax with you standing."
"Egh~"
"...."
I dragged the chair, climbed on, and stood. My head nearly brushed the ceiling. Still, I barely looked down at the seated Bear Elder. Insane size.
He just stared, puzzled, as I lorded over him cheekily.
Time to quit joking. Busy day.
I hopped down and sat properly.
"From now, we'll travel very far."
"...Heard from Frost Fang. But 'very far' feels different. Not the usual short hop?"
"Yes. We've moved three days, stayed half a month. This time, much longer."
"How much? A week?"
"A month."
"...Huh."
Our tribe wasn't small. Near three hundred even short-staffed. Seven races, sure, but still. Lots of gear and supplies. Moving was a hassle.
We'd grazed the plains' resources bit by bit to keep going. That was the old way...
"A month? Sudden much. Leaving the plains?"
"Sharp as ever. Yes. We're leaving the Great Plains."
For real???
"Why? Winter? We toughed it out here last year."
"We did. Not winter."
"...Fleeing then?"
"...."
Beastkin weren't always nomadic. Not ancient history, but we'd had a big land with more of us. Invaders took it; survivors scattered, regrouped into this tribe. Since, we'd wandered, fleeing pursuers.
"In effect, yes. But not the purpose."
"...."
"...Fleeing, yes. From start to now."
"...Yeah."
"But this time's different. Not just fleeing."
"Then what's the goal? A place a month away."
"Settlement."
"...."
The unexpected answer threw me. Settlement? Now? Not my place as a one-year savage newbie, but this tribe was pure wanderers. Sounded off.
"Settlement... putting down roots? Staying put?"
"Where'd you pick that up... Roughly, yes."
"Makes sense then... Must be prime land, a month off."
"Can't say. Just the best choice now."
Vague. Bear Elder always talked like that—had to read between lines.
One question begged.
"Got it. So... why me?"
All that was tribe direction. No reason to call a ten-year-old newbie alone.
"I brought you to the tribe this time last year. Remember?"
"Duh. Almost a year now!"
"Yes... Exactly two weeks from now marks one full year."
"Yeah. Time flies!"
"It does."
"...So?"
Ugh. Spit it out! Why'd you call me?!
"...So... We'll move nonstop after departure."
"Yeah."
"No time for foraging or resupply. We'll ration what we have."
"...Probably."
"Especially food."
"...."
Dread crept up. I'm an orphan here too. No memories before ten. Found collapsed on the plains by the Bear Elder in front of me. Other kids have parents; I'm alone.
Grueling march. Scarce food. Surefire risk cut: reduce mouths to feed.
Damn. Should've eaten more meat.
"That's why, Ursa..."
"...Got it. Bear Elder. I'm fine."
"...Yes. Sorry, but we can't celebrate your birthday. Thanks for understanding."
...?
"...Huh?"
Birthday? Sudden? What? I wasn't getting ditched?