METEOR

The only legacy of Valerius’s reign in the pharaoh quarters was the lion’s skull mounted on Meteor’s wall. Everything else unnecessary had been tossed. The useful books and papyrus scrolls (most of which had been collected by the pharaohs before Valerius) had been reorganized. And the tapestry of two dragons circling MNT Halelevu? Had been taken down from the wall and hung on the outside of Meteor’s door.

Meteor glanced away from the maps spread across his desk to rub a paw against his forehead. The air elemental returned the feather quills to their ink pots. At this point, he had a complete map of the damage to the island’s forests. And a few calculations on rate of repair, expected recovery. However, even with Kane and Vale’s steady progress in the heartland of the tropical rainforest… the cannibals would overharvest the crabs on Coconut Island before the forests produced boar, monkeys, and other varieties of meat.

What wouldn’t he do for a hundred laying chickens? Maybe the Emerald Isles had enough to spare? But what to offer them without losing face and showing weakness to those asshaholic raiders?

With a sigh, the lion reopened his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, the quill began scrawling a list of possibilities for increasing their calories without burning through coconut crabs. Trade with Emerald Isles. That rhino in the Congregants of Genesis. Bringing back resources from smaller groups and independent merchants on the mainland. But, what they really needed was a second and third earth elemental.

Meteor huffed. Set the quill down. And stepped away to pace while the ink dried.

METEOR

The vampiric coyote’s presence gave Meteor pause in his pacing, but he was too stuck on the problem. Instead, this folded in more thoughts into the calculations. Feeding the vampire was both practical and reasonably enjoyable given the coyote’s personality, but it was a linear reduction when the Descendants needed a polynomial reduction. However, even assuming Kole could share the blood-drinking mutation amongst the cannibals, that would be counterproductive: then they wouldn’t even be able to eat the coconut crabs or fish which currently sustained the creatures upon the island. All paths lead to starvation.

Meteor blinked. His right eye narrowed. Irritation, but measured. “I do not like that nickname.”

Then he blinked, and exhaled the tension out of his body. The lion stopped pacing. His gaze slid from Kole to the sheets of paper and maps on his desk. For a long moment, he said nothing but frowned at the papers. As if considering tossing lightning at the problem. But, of course, as satisfying as that would feel, then he’d have to start over with a different map on marking all the destroyed areas of the island, which would cause more work.

Meteor looked back to Kole. Now, he seemed more focused on the coyote. “I’m overthinking the logistics problem. Staring at maps isn’t going to improve Kane and Vale’s productivity or reduce the overharvesting of coconut crabs.” He rolled his shoulders, tossed his head.

Then a quick chuckle. “Give me something else to think about. That’ll help.” His golden eyes refocused as his usual analytical expression returned.