Oark walked swiftly towards the mountain range and this time, stopping to examine his path over the dangerous range, noticed a much easier path. This path was a large hilly area that offered a mountain free passage between the two closest mountains. Upon seeing this he felt foolish for having brute forced his way over an entire mountain when he could have just walked around it. Swallowing this feeling he moved on further knowing no other tribesman in creation would have noticed this foolish mistake. It was going to take him a couple of days to make it through the pass but his determination drove him in an inhumane manner.
After having drank the water from the glowing pool Oark had found that he felt stronger and faster. He wasn't convinced that this change wasn't just because his reflexes were faster due to his clarity of mind. These increased reflexes and clarity were the only thing to save his life the first night he stayed on the hills in the mountain pass. He built a bonfire and bellowed to hills in deep thundering roars. This was his war chant; this was his march of retribution. After his bellowing chant he laid down but had restless sleep. Just before dawn he awoke he stared over the large bed of glowing coals and as his eyes adjusted he saw a shadow pass opposite him. Sitting up his eyes adjusted to see the bulk of a young puma pacing and staring at him with empty, hungry, eyes. He slowly backed to the side where his spear laid leaning against a log in the clearing he slept in.
Just as Oark's hand reached out for the spear he heard a soft growl and turned slowly to see a second young puma crouched just past his spear. As he grabbed his spear the first puma pounced at him with its massive claws catching his shoulder and pulling him down. Panic gripped him and he felt his heart pounding excessively as the cat pulled him down and the second cat pounced. In panic he tried to stab the second one but missed and dropped his spear instead. The first puma bit into his left shoulder while pinning his chest to the ground. The second puma growled and pounced the first puma knocking it back which gave him an opportunity to scramble free.
The pumas fought over the kill as Oark slid to his spear which got the attention of both cats. As the second puma pounced he planted his spear and aimed it at the cats chest. The aim was solid and the young puma's body slid down the spear as the first puma pounced. Try as he might in that desperate moment he was unable to pull the spear from the body of the puma. Moving out of the way just in time to avoid the pouncing puma he snapped his spear in half and launched himself at the puma with such ferocity the cat retreated several feet in surprise. With a new found rush of adrenaline he grabbed the remaining puma by the throat with his left hand and wielding the broken spear with his right he drove the head into the neck next to his hand. With both cats dead he stumbled back over to the hot coals and laid down next to them. He was bleeding heavily from both shoulders and before he knew it he felt darkness overwhelming his vision. Without inhibition he felt himself die in a pool of his blood with two dead pumas and a bed of hot coals.
Standing in the shadows of his mind Oark became aware of a dark presence. Death. The hooded figure reached out and touched him. It was in this moment that he felt his body die, and in a terrifying moment he watched Death leave as quickly as it had arrived at the scene of his death. He felt his spirit, his very essence, cling to his dead body. The distinction between his body and spirit became apparent to him despite never feeling the connection in life. Blackness enveloped him and in an instant he felt himself simply cease, as though he never existed at all.
With a shock Oark gasped and air filled his lungs as his body came back to life. Confused he sat up while his still wet blood dripped off of him. As he felt his skin the lacerations he'd had before were now gone. Shaking his head wearily he took a drink of his water and started cleaning camp. Disappointed by his broken spear he decided to work on a new weapon that wouldn't break so easily. He wasn't strong enough to wield a club but now too strong to wield a spear without fear of breaking it. Resolving the thoughts of a new weapon as a future project he instead gathered the claws and teeth of the two pumas. With his new second chance of life he moved on through the pass between the mountains.
Oark traveled for weeks looking for his tribe and as he did he encountered more puma, serpents, and even a lone bear. All of whom he'd found increasingly clever ways of killing while experimenting with new weapons. In the end he settled on what he called a short spear. It had a short pole only three feet long but with a much longer blade on the end reaching almost two feet long. Due to the compacted size he was able to use a much stronger and thicker log for the pole. His new weapon was vicious and with his still increasing speed and strength he found that he was no longer hunted by the predators but that he was now the hunter.
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Weeks after he'd left the mountain pass Oark finally caught sites of a tribe moving slowly by the creek he'd been at months earlier. Happily Oark swiftly moved to converge with the slow moving group but once he'd arrived he found to his disappointment that this was a different tribe than the one he'd been with. The new tribe told him of a war they'd had which claimed the lives of most of their men leaving only weak and elderly men alive. The tribeswomen were very happy to have Oark there but he was not pleased at the distraction nor the desire of the tribeswomen to bond with him. Despite the tribeswomen that were gaily flaunting themselves to him Oark understood the value that this tribe could have to him. He started by showing the tribesmen how to build better shelters. Shelters that could protect them from predatory attacks yet were light enough to pack up and move when the tribe moved. The tribe had embraced him but he hadn't felt a strong connection to them because he wanted more, he wanted to lead them.
It was several weeks before the situation with the tribe Oark had found changed. The morning had started the same as most of the morning had before. Oark started his morning by walking by the creek, he would bathe in the cold water and then sneak sips of his secret water. Every drop of the glowing water gave him increased clarity and further solidified his resolve to hunt his former tribe. Preparing himself mentally to depart the tribe he heard screams coming from the camp. Worried that the fire he'd built in the center on the tribe had grown out of control he made his way quickly back. Everything looked to be in order when he arrived but the tribesmen were panicked and he didn't understand why until he saw one of the younger tribeswomen with a spear through her stomach. He ran up and grabbed his short spear as he saw over a dozen tribesmen from his former tribe attacking.
"Oark say STOP!" As Oark bellowed this command the attacking tribesmen surprised stopped attacking to stare in awe that Oark was still alive. Krah came forward, the youngest elder of these tribesmen had gathered an array of scars since Oark had seen him last. This tribesman was a killer, and he had killed Awwt. Krah spoke out,
"Krah kill Oark, Oark die now." As Krah approached he drew his spear.
"Oark not die," Oark snorted in retort, "Oark kill Krah and Oark tribe leave here." He gestured at the rest of the tribe who still stood watching as the scout and the elder squared off. The elder scoffed at the short spear wielded by the scout and lunged with a forward thrust aimed to impale. Oark grabbed the spear as he twisted and it passed harmlessly at his side. Krah pulled back and thrust again and this time Oark grabbed the spear and jerked it from the elder. With one large sweeping motion he knocked the feet out from under Krah and threw the spear with such force at the elders chest that the air sang from the passing spear. Krah rolled but only barely and the spear tore through his back muscles. Screaming Krah gripped the pommel of the spear and rose as Oark charged him. Before Krah could get the spear upright Oark had gripped it and pulled it to jerk Krah to him. Before Krah, the tribesmen, or even Oark had time to register what happened Krah was dead. The short spear thrust solidly through the chest cavity and out the back of the elder. Awwt's murderer was dead. Oark spat disgustedly at Krah's lifeless body.
"Oark kill Krah. Old tribe leave now." Oark pointed to the woods beyond the tribesmen camp. As his old tribe departed his new tribe came and embraced him for stopping the attacking tribe. His eyes looked past the tribe to the departure of his former tribe. As his eyes narrowed he knew that his vengeance for the death of Awwt was not yet over. They would die in the fire he felt within.