This is Death, Not Life

Kirasha had not gotten the message that this was the Festival of Death, not the Festival of Life. While she was curious about the festivities going on, her excitable nature was too much to handle. Every now and again, she picked a fight with some of the other kukuris that were also participating this festival, much to her handler’s chagrin. He or another person had to break up the fight and, if he was there, N had to apologize to the other party for Kirasha’s attitude towards the other kukuri. Not that she really cared, of course. She preferred to fight rather than do calming things. At least the festival itself had many activities for a kukuri to do, which her handler was thankful for.

The crimson dove yawned as she wandered the stalls, sniffling every so often. She had managed to catch a cold while the festival took place and it dampened her mood quite a bit, making her even more snappish and volatile than before. She did not see the problem with that, though others might disagree. The dove let out a sneeze that sprayed all over a festival visitor. “Excuse you!” she said in disgust as she quickly went away to somewhere else. Kirasha just barked at her before continuing on her way.

There was not much else to do in the festival. She had participated many of the events that were held during this time and it satisfied her to a degree. But after playing so many of them, she had grown bored of their predictability. She wanted something fun, something that could get her blood pumping. As to what that was, though, she had not a clue. She managed to bump into someone and snapped at the person. “Whoa, easy there,” the person said as he backed away then went on his way. She let out a snort and a small “Hmph!” before moving on.

After that incident, she had not gotten far when she heard the sound of a crowd cheering to her right. Cocking her head to the side and giving a questioning chirr, she went over to wherever the crowd was to see what was going on. It was an eating competition, the kukuris gulping down food as the crowd egged on certain kukuris. She was at the back of the crowd and could barely see the action, so the dove decided to shove her way through the crowd towards the event. Once she managed to get a front row seat, her eyes lit up at the sight of food on the table. Lettuce, to be exact. With a happy cry, she leapt onto the stage and promptly started to gorge herself on lettuce.

Everyone was stunned for a moment by the sudden addition of a new kukuri. Then there was an uproar. “Get off the stage!” “What do you think you’re doing?!” “Hey, dovey! You’re ruining the event!” She did not care, though. There was food and she was hungry. There was a sharp pain in the middle of her tail and she turned her head to look, mouth full of lettuce. An angry kukuri was biting down on her tail, growling at her. She immediately swallowed her food and snapped at him. She was not going to go down without a fight.

Swiftly, she bit down the kukuri’s neck as he let go with a yelp at the sudden pain. Then it turned into a snarl as he whirled on her and they began to duke it out. They were not the only ones to fight, however. Several other kukuris, both from the crowd and from the eating competition, joined in on the fighting and the whole stage was covered with a writhing mass of kukuris in this free for all. Kirasha was laughing as she fought. Finally, something to get her blood going!

The feeling did not last long, however. Eventually several people came onto the stage and blue a sharp whistle. All the fighters turned their heads to the sound of the whistle, whining as their ears rang. “That’s enough!” the man said as he marched over to them, a stormy look on his face, “This is supposed to be a time for celebration, not a brawl. And this is the Festival of Death, if you want to fight, save it for Life. Everyone! A little help escorting these kukuris off the stage?” There was a murmur before several people came onstage and began ushering the kukuris off. Kirasha began to move with them, only to be stopped by the man who blew the whistle. “As for you, you little troublemaker, you need to be taught a lesson.” And that was how she spent the next few hours being lectured on how not to disrupt an event for other festival goers.