The morning after the jaguars arrived, Thousand Fang woke to chaos.
Bai Yue stood at the edge of the eastern fields, a cup of cold tea in her hand, watching a jaguar elder walk directly into a drying rack. The wooden frame collapsed. Drying fish flew everywhere. A passing crane beastman slipped on a fish and knocked over a basket of tubers. The tubers rolled downhill and tripped a wolf carrying water. The water splashed onto a cooking fire.
HISSSSS.
Smoke rose. Someone coughed. Someone else started yelling.
"THIS IS FINE," Elder Zhao shouted from somewhere in the middle of it all, his voice cracking. "EVERYTHING IS FINE. WE ARE FINE."
A jaguar cub ran past him chasing a butterfly. Then another. Then three more. They had not been this free in five years. They did not know what to do with freedom except run.
"THE BUTTERFLY IS GETTING AWAY!"
"CATCH IT!"
"THAT'S A BEE!"
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
Bai Yue took a long sip of her cold tea.
