Chapter 4
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The children looked at each other with confusion.
“Bantila Slayer? Never heard of him.” They said while looking back and forth amongst one another.
The Elder, who’d told this story well over 100 times could only smile at their antics.
“Well, allow me to tell you then.” He spoke.
“Bantilas are the most ferocious beast that roam Mahr-Kelan. Who knows what Mahr-Kelan means little hunters?” he asked.
The children jumped up and down, eager to be the one to answer the question. The elder looked around, feigning having difficulty choosing whom to answer, before pointing at one of them.
“You De-lah, what is Mahr-Kelan?”
“Elder, Mahr-Kelan is the name that the Sky God Aki gave to the lands below!”
“Correct!” The elder praised, “You will receive more meat tonight.”
De-lah beamed with pride while the other children grumbled about how they also knew the answer.
“On Mahr-Kelan,” the elder continued, “Bantilas are our greatest tribulation. One bantila can hunt and exterminate an entire tribe. They are large beast, with sharp fangs and even sharper claws. They run, jump, pounce, and tear their prey apart better than any other being known.”
“Elder, if they are so strong, how could there be a Bantila Slayer?” a curious child asked.
“Good question little one,” he responded, “Although bantilas are fierce, they aren’t impossible to beat. In fact, the Bantila Slayer is from our very tribe!”
The children gasped in shock and awe, looking around. “Where?! Where?!”
“Sadly, he has already ascended to the star palace above, to feast with Aki.” The elder said with a sigh.
“But before he did, he handled the monster haunting our tribe. As you little hunters know, we must always be on the move. Following the dambi and bufan, because they are what we rely on to eat and clothe ourselves. We cannot sleep on the plains or clearings because there are far too many insects, predators, and deathly beings that prowl the duff. The only safe place for us is the caves and overhangs that are small enough for us to defend against these great threats.”
“Usually, there will be no problem. Many generations will live, hunt, die, and return to the stars like this. Living the life of an accomplished hunter, and valuable tribesmen. However sometimes a calamity will befall a tribe, such as the one that hit ours. If a bantila begins to hunt a tribe, there are very few things that can be done. Against their fur, the strongest of bone spears bounce off or shatter. One swipe of their paws can crush and kill even the strongest amongst hunters. Look around, there are only two men other than myself who can hunt. There is only one finger less than a hand of women who remain to take care of all of you children. Would you believe that our tribe used to have more members than both my hands and feet?”
The children looked stunned, some looking at their hands and feet, others looking at Pino and Si-ah, the only two hunters in the tribe.
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“The bantila would come at night, pulling men, women, and children from the cave. It wouldn’t take them far and would instead eat them at the cave entrance, we could hear the screams and pleas for help as we shuddered in our furs.”
“We moved caves many times, fleeing for many moons, but the bantila followed us, unwilling to let go such an easy meal.”
“Soon there reached a point when there was no more than one hand of men, a finger less than a hand of women, and a little less than both hands of children.”
“Elder what did we do?!” A child, clearly enamored by the story asked.
“The hand of men decided to fight the beast, instead of waiting for it to slowly kill us all! So, they sharpened their bone spears, and tightened their furs and set off after the beast.”
The children leaned in, anticipation written all over their faces, waiting to hear the next part.
The elder leaned in as well before saying, “I will tell you the rest after we’ve finished eating, the meal is ready!”
“AWWWWWWWW!!!” The children cried.
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Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop,
A torrent of rain falls in a loud cacophony, drenching the parched forest in much needed precipitation.
“FUCKKKK! It’s raining all my materials will be ruined!” I cursed loudly.
I scrambled from my perch as fast and carefully as I could. This was the first time it’d rained since I arrived here. ‘Other mind’ doesn’t have any great insights this time so I’m on my own. First, I removed my bag of supplies from under the bedding. Then I swiftly undid the rope before letting the fur on top of the rope fall with it neatly into my outstretched hand.
Once I’d disassembled the bedding, I awkwardly hugged the tree and slid towards the ground. The water from the rain acting as a lubricant to make the journey quicker. Once I had steadied myself, I dug a hole using my walking stick, and placed the thicker end firmly at the bottom. Then I patted the wet soil down as well as I could considering how soaked everything was.
After that I got to work, tearing a hole into the piece of hide I usually use as a bag. There isn’t much in there other than a few fangs and berries anyway, so it makes no difference. Once I’d made what I believed to be a decent sized hole on one end of the hide, I began the process on the other end. It took far longer than it should’ve but considering that rain was getting in my eyes and all over my hands, making the work 10 times harder, I believe I did a pretty good job.
I cut the rope into two pieces, one being longer than the other. I took the long piece and looped it through the hole on one end of the hide, then I ran the hide around the trunk of the tree and tied a fast knot. Then I took the piece of rope and imitated the process, except this time I used the staff as the other supporting pole rather than a tree.
Once the work was done, I gathered all the fangs and dirty berries from the muddy ground and sat under the makeshift cover. The rain still battered me slightly when the wind changed direction, but when I grew accustomed to the muddy ground I was sitting on, and tightly wrapped the fur around myself, I found sleep slowly returning to me. Just as I was about to sink into another dream, my eyes shot open.
“I’m a fucking idiot!” I exclaimed.
“Water! This is all water!” I shouted.
I ran out of the cover and opened my mouth to the skies. Rainwater is one of the few reliable sources of clean drinking water, since I haven’t yet found a reliable water source, I’ve had to rely on the juices of berries to barely get by. I let the water slowly accumulate in my mouth before quickly swallowing it down and beginning the process anew. At first, I just fill my stomach with as much water as my deprived body can handle. However, as I slowly satiate my thirst, I begin to take the time to enjoy it. I feel as the water slowly runs down my throat, I swish it across my teeth and tongue. This water tastes sweeter, fresher, more delicious than any drink I can recall from my old life.
I don’t know when, but I began to cry again. I lived life so fast that I forgot about the little things, but that doesn’t mean they don’t matter. A bed, food, water, all the things I took for granted…
If anyone were to peer into the forest at this moment, they’d surely be shocked, thinking perhaps they’d happened upon a forest spirit. There in the rain stood a boy not older than 16, laughing and crying, doing a strange one-legged dance, his mouth open and facing the heavens.