“Ease the string back gently, Good now aim for the kill spots I showed you yesterday, Exhale when you release” quietly whispered into the ear of a small child no older than 7.
Standing barely as tall as a stump coated in a thick wrap of fur with a dusting of freshly fallen snow. A bow almost the size of the child itself held high, the thin string pulled back to her rosy cheeks. A large arrow knocked swaying slightly as she aim’s it towards the neck of a doe grazing upon the freshly dug grass. A slow exhale journeyed with a quick release, it whizzed through the air embedding the jagged tip deep into the side of the doe. It fell with a thud disturbing the surrounding snow.
“Haha we will make a killer out of you yet” a large man chuckled as he stood up, his bright blue eyes penetrating the darkness of the night.
A single pelt covered his bare back, chest chest rigid and firm cascading with scars that tell of glory, honor, and death.
“Let’s go we have to be back before the sun comes up or your mother will have our skin” he said, prying the arrow from the side of the doe and throwing it over his shoulder. The little girl walked over and stared up at her father
“Why must we kill?” She said softly,
“We must eat and feed the family, furthermore we must protect what is ours, Death is apart of life and it is up to us to see it through but it is important to never waste what you kill be it man or creature, it’s hide it’s bone and it’s meat are all useful” he said staring longingly into the darkness beyond the forest.
He began to walk at a steady pace to ensure she could keep up, as she kept up behind him she glanced down at his large hand coated in the fresh warm blood of the kill. Her hand small but calloused slipped into his
“Now little one you are getting a little big for that are you not? Well no matter just this once”.
A smile laced her face as the dim light of the fires warming the makeshift huts comes into view. Bustling with sounds of families preparing their mornings meal, a bell rings hushing the vibrant conversations to a dead silence. They walked into the village leaving behind a small dotted trail of fresh blood, a wagon pulled by dark tan horses covered with blood formed handprints to mark them as claimed creaked into the natural entrance of the village. Driven by two large men in thick fur and leather that covers their faces,
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“It is time once more for the ceremony please say your goodbyes swiftly”' One of them shouted.
Upon hearing those words her father hoisted Tasha up with his free arm and headed back to their home in which her mother and brother were waiting. There they stood upon a small stone step in front of a larger hut compared to the other ones in the village. Small sniffles and sob’s are heard from the front doorway, a mother's tearful goodbye to her son. He stood with average height and built with nothing standing out besides his long dark hair the same as his fathers, but he had his mother’s hazel eyes. His voice soft and caring
“Mom do not cry I will return in a month's time not just as your son but as a son of the tribe”
her eyes drifted from him and now lay upon her husband standing in the doorway. She was a sturdy woman as were all the women in the tribe, strong and vigilant rivaling even the toughest of males. Her dark hazel eyes pierced into his very being and her tone shifted from the heartstruck mother to an annoyed spouse
“Are you just going to stand there or say goodbye to your only son? Well?”
her statement lingered in the air for a moment.
“Well hurry up I'm sure Tasha wants to say goodbye as well” she proclaims and turns back to a tearful mother doting upon her son.
Upon the realization of her words he manages to compose himself and drops the doe on the table just behind her and gently puts Tasha onto her feet. He reaches up to his back and pulls off his pelt
“My boy upon my leaving ceremony my father gave me this fur pelt it has kept me and all men in our family dating back before the grand Khanate formed warm, Per tradition I now bestow it upon you as the only item you may take” his voice deepens with each word as he looks silently to his son dawning the pelt.
Tasha begins to squirm behind her mother confused as to why her brother is leaving yet cannot find the courage to speak up,
“My dearest Sister” he said softer than when he spoke to their parents
“Worry not for I will be back soon and may you find your fangs pup” his smile radiates as she finds a sudden warmth and compulsion to hug him.
They headed back down to the village center to see him off, families lined up saying one final goodbye to their sons and daughters before a sack was put over their head as they were pulled into the wagon and forced to sit.