Zan’s Prehistoric World Notes: If you are wondering where Zam’s part of the story is, don’t worry, it’s coming. Zan’s part of the story establishes something important. I’m probably going to be doing a lot of episodes on Demon Prime. I’m finding rocks incredibly hard to draw and practice is the only way to get it. Bryce would probably make it picture perfect, but I prefer drawing my own scenes if possible. Even if it’s not perfect. Narrative: The kitchen was a bustle of activity. Tarlock was cooking eggs and sausages in a frying pan big enough to double as a bathtub. “I don’t want mine runny,” said Bali. “Where’s my physics book?” Bezil was rummaging under a pile of clothes in one corner of the kitchen. Talur pushed past Zan, who was trying to find a spot away from the chaos. Breakfast with his father had always been a quiet and solemn event of fruit, breads and serious conversation concerning the day’s events. This was a complete disorganized affair of shouting, laughing and jostling for position at the table. There was enough food piling up in Tarlock’s frying pan to feed an army. Karu had pushed Bezil out of what Zan assumed Karu must consider his chair at the table and was sharpening his horns. Bezil responded to the assault by making a face and taunted his older brother with several insults. “You can sharpen them all you want, bone-skull, she’s never going to notice you,” Bezil said. “Shut up, you’re a bone-skull,” Karu retorted. Zan waited until all his new brothers had found a spot to sit down and took the remaining chair while Tarlock was making his way around the table filling the boy’s plates with mounds of food. He watched as everyone started devouring the bounty of eggs and sausage. “Excuse me, Tarlock,” Zan made the mistake of asking. “Is there any fruit or bread?” This brought immediate silence to the table. Each of the boys looked over their forks piled with food. Then the laughing began and Zan found himself being pelted with sausage. Tarlock quickly moved away from Zan so as not to be in the path of the flying food. “You eat like a Kitsune!” Karu laughed. “Eat like a Demon,” Talur added and threw another piece of sausage at Zan. Zan looked at his shirt covered in food and tried to wipe it clean. “Alright boys, knock it off,” Tarlock commanded and the onslaught slowed down. Tarlock picked a shirt up from the pile of clothes and tossed it to Zan. “You can’t wear that shirt to school anyway,” Tarlock said. “You have to wear the school uniform.” Zan changed his shirt quickly and tried nibbling on the eggs. The sausage was too greasy and left an after-taste he didn’t like. He was still trying to eat the eggs when Talur grabbed Zan’s arm and pulled him out of his chair.” “Come on bone-skull, we are going to be late,” Talur explained hurriedly. The boys poured out the door and Zan glanced back at the kitchen. Tarlock had sat down and put his feet up on the table and appeared to be eating whatever he had found left on his son’s plates. Tarlock looked at Zan, smiled and gave him a fatherly wink. “Good luck,” Tarlock told his newest son. Zan followed the boys out of the cavern and down an ash covered path. “Where’s the school,” Zan asked. “It’s in the old Kitsune Dome,” Talur pointed at a dome in the distance. “Oh,” Zan replied, “from when the Kitsune guided the Demon’s to enlightenment.” “You need to stop saying dumb stuff, brother,” Talur replied. “The Kitsune occupied our world for a thousand years and it took the Freedom War to finally get rid of them.” Zan knew about the Demon rebellion but he’d never read anything about a Freedom War. “How are we getting there?” Zan asked. “Duh, walking,” Talur said, “How did you think?” Zan decided not to mention the moving walk-ways in Spirit City back home.