Horned Rabbits

The next morning, just as the sun stretched across the earth, we set off.

Nala wasn’t far from the village where I’d been raised. We followed the riverbank north and stopped around midday. As expected, Sae was good at catching prey. She came back with a bunch of horned rabbits, gripping them by the ears. She handed them off to Itzel and headed back out.

“Itzel, have you ever skinned a horned rabbit?” I asked, trying to sound confident.

She raised an eyebrow. “Minah, have you?”

I hesitated, then lied. “Yes.”

She didn’t call me out—just handed me a knife. I was about to dunk the rabbit in a bucket of water, like we did with chickens in my village, when she stopped me.

“Wetting the pelt makes it slippery.”

With practiced hands, she made quick cuts around the hind legs and pulled the skin toward the head like peeling off a sweater. Then she lobbed off the head and set aside the horns.

I followed her lead. By the second rabbit, I was getting the hang of it. I was glad she didn’t mention my lie.

Next, she showed me how to remove the mana stones—something only the men handled in my village.

When I held one in my palm, I felt it again. The warmth—soft and dreamy. A hum rose through my chest, low and steady. I didn’t want to let go.

“Minah, your oud—you’re glowing!”

Startled, I dropped the stone. The warmth vanished. I felt like myself again.

“My oud?” I asked. “Is that what that was?”

Everyone had some. The more you had, the stronger you were. In my village, only Hani, Sera, and our teacher, Mr. Araki, had strong oud.

Itzel quietly gathered the stones and tucked them into her pouch. “You should ask Sae about that.” Then, with a glance at the sky: “I’ll start a fire.”

After we ate, the evening passed quietly. Sae put up a barrier, and I fell asleep almost instantly, too tired to dream.