“Alright, I’ll show you around camp, then we can finally go to sleep,” Bartholomew sighed. Beatrix followed him as they started walking towards a big den right beside the entrance arch of the camp. 

“This is the superior’s den, it’s small because usually we don’t live to be old enough to be a superior,” 

Beatrix felt an ache in his heart, he was reminded of his favorite superior back home. He always told him stories about the Kukan Army and the old days of hunting. He missed him. 

They both went in and saw three superiors, one had ragged fur and a rats nest for a mane, the other two were less rough, they were cleaning each other. They stared at him and he and Bartholomew entered. 

“Hello there,” The soft voice of one of the grooming superiors called. Beatrix nodded his head to the both of them. 

“Have you heard about Beatrix?” Bartholomew asked, tilting his head towards him. 

The sleeping one lifted their head, “We’ve known about him for longer than you have lived Bartholomew,” she said drowsily. 

Bartholomew rolled his eyes and led Beatrix back outside. The next den was the defender's den. It was massive, as big as a mountain cave. It was lush and made of piled stone and moss. Inside there were seven defenders chatting amongst themselves. 

They all went silent when they walked in, “So he really is real!” One of them broke the silence with a shout. They all stood up and crowded Beatrix. There was a lot of yelling and laughing, it seemed very cheerful in the defender’s den. BArtholomew stood back and left Beatrix to be trampled. 

“Do you really breathe blue fire?!” One massive muscular catoblepas boomed from the back of the crowd. Everyone turned to look at the defender, then looked back at Beatrix. 

Me? Do I breathe blue fire? Why would anyone breathe blue fire, fire is always orange. Why do they think I can do that? Beatrix thought to himself until someone stomped their hoof and brought him back to the conversation. 

“Um…No. I can’t” Beatrix put his ears down and stared at the ground, the gleeful mood seemed to be turning sour. They all stared at each other and sighed in unison. 

“Come on!” Bartholomew shouted from outside the den. Beatrix walked out and joined him. 

The next den was the brawler’s den. This one was a tad bit smaller than the last one. It was made of thin birch trees lined with pine tree branches for coverage. Inside it was shady and dark, no one was  inside so they left shortly after entering. 

They were on the other side of camp now, the back half, where the three tenderfoot’s dens were lined up. 

Beatrix went to go inside when Bartholomew bit his scruff and pulled him back, “Don’t bother talking to them…or even going in there. They aren’t very friendly,” Beatrix looked up at Bartholomew with confusion in his eyes. “Just don’t bother talking to anyone I don’t introduce you to,” With that, they walked away from the tenderfoot’s dens and went to the calf den. 

They walked inside and were bombarded by baby catoblepas everywhere. There were two adult catoblepas, probably mothers, in the swarm of almost twenty calves. 

“Hello, mogul’s,” Bartholomew greeted them with a bow and Beatrix followed. They nodded their heads to them in response. Beatrix felt like he was tripping over himself every step he took. The calves were running wild, screaming and crying, they headbutted each other, some could barely walk, others took big strides. It was pure chaos. 

“Don’t worry, young ones, we are going to continue building once the calves are grown out of here,” One of the mogul’s said as though she could read their thoughts. It was a very cramped space. 

“Have a good night mogul’s, have peace in your sleep,” Bartholomew bowed again, so Beatrix did the same. The moguls smiled at them as they turned to leave. 

“Alright, let's go sleep, I'm exhausted,” Bartholomew yawned. The moon was up, but there was still a great amount of people talking and grooming with one another. Most of the tenderfoot’s were in their dens. Bartholomew decided not to go up to the leaders den since Beatrix had already been there. 

They walked along the path that circled the camp and led to every den, it was made of dead grass, pine needles, and some rocks. The third tenderfoot’s den was for Beatrix, Bartholomew, and other tenderfoot’s about the same age as them. 

They walked in and both went to the back of the den to their assigned beds. Four other tenderfoot’s stared at them as they passed. Beatrix slumped into his mossy bed, which was massive compared to his body. Bartholomew had a bed right next to Beatrix. 

“How old is that kid?!” Someone laughed. Their voice was definitely female, but it had a lower pitch and a soft growl. Beatrix met eyes with the biggest female catoblepas in the den. She had a deep reddish-pink mane, with piercing brown, almost black, eyes. Her legs were muscular and her fangs were long and sharp. Her chestnut tail whipped around behind her as she smirked at Beatrix. 

“Probably only one season!” Someone else called out. Everyone laughed, except for Bartholomew and Yolanda. 

“Are you sure you’re in the right den? I think you’re supposed to be with the mogul’s!” They all laughed harshly before Bartholomew yelled for them to be quiet. 

“Why? You think he deserves to be here?” The female asked. She grinned at Bartholomew. 

“I think I would like to get some sleep before we have to wake up early tomorrow to train,” Bartholomew rolled his eyes and rested his chin on the edge of his bed. Everyone went quiet, it was a good point, they always were woken up at sunrise. 

Yolanda leaned over to Beatrix and whispered, “How old are you?” 

“Six seasons,” He whispered back. 

Yolanda looked at him in shock, “You’re the third oldest person in here!” her whisper became louder. 

“Shut up already,” Bartholomew grumbled.