Praetorian Rising

sun hung low in the distant clouds, the branches above Camille's head heavy with the multicolored leaves of early Fall. Camille was easily concealed behind an ancient trunk covered in sickly grey moss, yet her heart pounded all the same. A small, piercing ache to broke between her lungs. How long had she been running for this time? She heard soft steps closing in on her and knew her hiding spot wouldn't last long. A twig snapped in the distance and her stomach twisted; it was time to relocate.
She could smell the tangy scent of his sweat; he was beginning to tire, but his footsteps were nearing. She racked her brain for a plan as she pressed aside a wayward branch, crouching in a hunting stance.
Her instincts told her to act first and think on her feet, and that innate, animalistic sense of battle preparation still startled her. How did she know these things? The storm flowing in over the Iron Mountains visible just north between the treetops and the valley twenty feet to the west had a fourteen-degree downward slope. Slight, yes—but enough to enhance her speed by fifteen percent if she really pushed herself. She never could figure out how she was able to make these automatic calculations, but they were useful in her hunting process nonetheless. Mainly when she was the one being hunted.
Camille leaped from her temporary sanctuary and dove toward the heavy brush five feet to her left, swiftly running down the sloping valley deeper into the woods. She heard his soft footfalls turn to heavy thudding as he crashed through the dense forest, speeding like a raging bull in her direction.
Ducking behind another large aspen trunk, Camille held her breath, forcing herself to remain silent as she dug her nails into the thick tree bark. She heard the assailant stop just behind her new hiding spot, and her heart slammed against the confines of her ribs.
Camille closed her eyes and prayed the forest would grant her a reprieve; that some branch might fall to the earth and create a diversion, or some bird might fly past so she could sneak away.
"Ah ha!" the little boy screamed as he jumped around the wide tree trunk followed by a mewling Neeko. "That's three for me. I found you in less than forty minutes this time,and without any help from my handy hunting partner," Lunci exclaimed happily, before performing a little victory dance.
"You are a worthy opponent in this game of hide-and-seek," Camille said, unable to restrain the enormous smile streaking across her face. They'd been playing all day, and still, he wasn't tired of it. Nor was she, in all honesty. Camille loved the moments she shared with Lunci, even though she was almost ten years his senior. He reminded her of what it was like to be a kid again, and considering she couldn't remember her own childhood, Camille welcomed the chance to live vicariously through Lunci whenever possible.
Lunci was unusual for a nine-year-old. He never wanted to hunt with boys his own age, and girls who glanced at him with innocent flirtation received nothing more than a sweet smile and a passing glance. Peter passed it off as nothing more than a young state of mind, but as much as Camille loved Lunci's penchant for fun, she felt his childlike demeanor stemmed from something deeper; perhaps even something traumatic.
"Round four?" Lunci asked with a grin, one that Camille knew would disappear when she informed him it was getting too late to play in the deepness of the forest they'd migrated to.
Although they were still within the gated confines of Sierra Village, they were far enough away to cause Peter to worry. "It's getting pretty late there, mister. I think we should start heading back. Your grandfather will have my head if I keep you in the forest past sundown."
"Awww—come on!" Lunci whined. She feigned toying with the idea of refusing him, loving the way he stamped his feet and kept repeating, "Please, please, please!" with his hands clasped.
"Okay, one last time. But after that we are going home," Camille said sternly, making a mental note to pick a secure hiding spot that was within sight of the village grounds. Lunci broke out into another little jig before slumping to the ground, hands over his eyes as he began to count backward from thirty.
She ran a medium distance away, making sure to keep Lunci within earshot, taking heavy steps so he could detect her path more easily. She never dared go too far from him and held her hunting knife with her just in case any real predators decided to join the game. Despite the fact it was her day off from hunting, Camille wouldn't pass up the opportunity to bring fresh game home for Peter to sell.
"All right, ready or not, here I come!" Lunci yelled into the thick foliage.
Camille smiled when she heard him rustle through the same bush she'd just passed a few moments earlier. He usually spent a few moments trying to decide which direction she'd gone in, but apparently, he'd conveniently forgotten to close his eyes this time. She took extreme pride in his growing abilities to track prey. It was a small lesson she carefully explained over their months of weekly playtime, but she would let this little cheat slide under the radar.
Camille made a quiet trek back up the sloping valley toward Sierra Village, ensuring she heard Lunci's footsteps close behind her. Her stomach growled at the idea of dinner filling her to near-bursting, but tonight's offering would only be a small plate of food despite the fact she lived with the village butcher.
It was two days before the Moon Tax was due, and only the wealthy didn't dread the offering. The rest of the village scrounged for food to meet the High Court's demands, but luckily Camille's hunting skills and market trades kept Peter's table filled through most of the month.
At the end of every moon cycle