As the heat of the midday sun pressed down on us, I felt the familiar comfort of home retreat further into the distance with each step. Behind us, the huts, clay homes, people, and day-to-day familiarity of the village began to blur into the horizon. A sense of anxiety bubbled within me, tempered only by a quiet thrill of anticipation.

Turning to catch another fleeting glance at our village, I found Brin's eyes on me, his brow knitted in concern. "You alright, Tak?" he asked, his deep voice softening in a comforting tone.

"Yeah," I answered, forcing a small smile. "Just the first time I'm going away from the tribe for so long, you know?"

Brin nodded, his lips tugging into an understanding smile. "We'll be with you," he assured, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder.

As we trudged on, Isha turned to Eamon, her eyes reflecting a sense of urgency. "What's our main objective for this expedition?" she queried.

Eamon's eyes, as fiery as his hair, twinkled with a determination that belied his years. "We're scouting ahead," he stated confidently, "We need to check if there's more game in the area."

Hearing this, I chimed in, "And what about other resources, like copper? Will we be on the lookout for those too?"

Eamon nodded, "If we come across any, we'll definitely take advantage. But remember, Mako is also worried about those strangers Liora, Enara and you spotted a while back."

Isha’s dark eyes widened, a hint of surprise fluttering across her face. "You think there's another tribe nearby?"

"I don't know," Eamon admitted, his tone serious. "But it's a possibility we can't ignore."

Just then, Brin turned to face us, his eyes scanning over our group, "Let's walk and talk," he suggested, "We need to cover a lot of ground before the sun goes down."

☽☽☽

The rich hues of the sunset began to fade into the inkiness of twilight as we huddled around the growing campfire. The comforting warmth began to seep into our bodies, casting dancing shadows onto our faces. Lorn's expert hands had started the flame, now flickering brightly against the encroaching darkness.

Each of us busied ourselves with setting up our individual sleeping spots. We used what the surrounding area offered: leaves for padding, rocks as makeshift pillows, and sturdy branches to serve as shelter from the elements. The ambiance around the camp was quiet, yet the air hummed with the subtle undercurrents of anticipation for what the next day's expedition held.

Isha, her dark eyes glistening in the firelight, looked over at me, a playful smile on her lips. "You should have brought one of those pups with you, Tak," she said, her voice filled with whimsy.

I shook my head with a chuckle, "Not a good idea, Isha. They're wild creatures."

Eamon, sitting across the fire from me, chimed in, "He's right. It wouldn't be safe or wise."

Despite our cautionary words, Isha just sighed dreamily, "Yeah, but they're so cute..."

Brin grunted in agreement, "For now, yes. But they grow into fierce beasts soon enough." His voice held an unmistakable note of apprehension.

Lorn, seated next to Brin, added his two cents, "We should have left them be in the wild. They're predators, not pets. There's no telling what they might do in the future."

I nodded in agreement, "Some of our tribe were against keeping them too."

"Those Wulani tribe members have good sense," Lorn agreed, his tone final.

Eamon shrugged his shoulders, a calm expression on his youthful face, "It's out of our hands now. The elders made the decision. We're raising those pups."

A quiet pause followed Eamon's words, each of us lost in our thoughts. Isha's voice softly broke the silence, "I wonder where their mother went."

I gave her a sympathetic look, "Who knows, Isha..."

Brin, staring intently into the fire, muttered his concern, "It's not the lone wolf that worries me. It's the pack."

His words hung in the air like a foreboding cloud, casting an uncertain shadow over our flickering firelight.

Eamon's voice cut through the silence, a hesitant note creeping into his usually lively tone, "Those pups... Could they be from the pack we saw last winter?"

Brin's gaze flickered towards Eamon, a contemplative frown on his rugged face. "Can't be. Those wolves had darker fur."

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Eamon conceded with a nod, "True. Hopefully, we don't run into any of those. They were not friendly."

Isha, the corners of her mouth twitching into a soft smile, chimed in, "Avoiding a pack of wolves would definitely be for the best."

The conversation lulled, and Lorn glanced around the fire, his eyes alight with an idea. "How about a story?" he suggested, "I'm tired of talking about wolves."

I laughed, "I've got a story. But it's about wolves."

Lorn groaned dramatically, causing a ripple of laughter to spread through our little circle. "As long as it's as good as your other tales," he finally conceded.

And so, I began. Underneath the blanket of the star-studded sky and encircled by the mesmerizing glow of the fire, I wove a story from the threads of my imagination, spooling them into the crisp night air. "This," I said, "is the tale of 'The White Wolf'."

The fire crackled as I began, "In a time before ours, in the depths of a forest both known and unknown to us, there lived a wolf. Her coat was as white as the purest snow, her eyes the color of clear ice. She was unlike any other wolf in the forest. Shunned by her pack, feared by all for her difference, the White Wolf roamed the wilderness alone."

As I spun the tale, each word painted a vivid image in the minds of my companions, the way it always did. The life of the White Wolf, filled with challenges and triumphs, her journey through the cold forests, her encounters with other creatures, and her eventual acceptance by a new pack. It was a tale of struggle and eventual acceptance, a tale that mirrored our own lives in the tribe.

The story progressed, the narrative capturing the attention of everyone around the fire, their eyes focused on me, drinking in each word. The magic of storytelling, something I'd carried from my past life, came alive in moments like these, connecting me with my companions in ways that was different from doing laborious activities with them. They might not have known about my past life, but they certainly appreciated the tales I spun from those memories.

As the story of the White Wolf came to a close, a hush fell over our small camp. I watched the flickering firelight play upon their faces, reflecting in their eyes. We sat there, the tale of the White Wolf lingering in the air like an echo, reminding us all that we, too, were a part of the vast tapestry of life, interconnected in ways we couldn't always see or comprehend.

☽☽☽

A riot of colors danced on the horizon as the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the land. After days of trekking through the dense forest, we stumbled upon a clearing, and it was a sight to behold. A herd of bison ambled through the open space, their hulking forms stirring dust in the golden light.

"Three days," I muttered to myself, my gaze still riveted on the majestic creatures. We'd been away from the tribe for three days now, and the sight of these bison was the first sign of substantial game we'd encountered.

Lorn, his blue eyes wide with awe and curiosity, turned to me. "What creatures are those?"

"Bison," I responded, my gaze never leaving the herd. "They're powerful animals. A charge from one of these beasts could crush a man. If you survive, you might not walk again."

Brin looked at me, a speculative gleam in his green eyes. "But they're enormous. Think of the meat one could provide."

Isha's gaze met Brin's. She nodded, "That's true. A single bison could feed the tribe for weeks."

Eamon chimed in, his voice laced with pragmatism, "But how would we transport it back to the tribe? There's no way we could carry something that size, even between the five of us."

I couldn't help but agree. "Eamon is right. It would be more practical to continue our search, find something more manageable."

Their expressions reflected my own reluctance. The prospect of bringing down a bison was enticing, but the logistics were more complicated than we could handle. Nevertheless, the sight of these creatures bolstered our spirits. We were on the right track, and who knew what else we might encounter on our journey.

We left the clearing behind, the bison a distant backdrop against the descending sun.

As the shadows lengthened, I studied our homemade sundial. We'd been treading across the open plain for more than four hours since we'd left the bison behind. The forest's protective cover was a distant memory, replaced by the harsh, unyielding sunlight.

Brin squinted at the horizon, his sharp gaze penetrating the fading light. "I see smoke up ahead."

Eamon's eyes widened. "Smoke means people."

Brin turned to us, a thoughtful expression on his face. "We should check it out, but we must stay at a distance."

Eamon nodded in agreement. But as I looked at the smoke's thin wisps, my mind wandered towards the practicalities. "If there are people, there should be a water source nearby."

Lorn nodded at me, his blue eyes reflecting wisdom. "Tak's right. You can't settle without water."

"But we don't know if they've settled here," I pointed out. "They could be following the bison."

Isha, her almond-shaped eyes distant, added, "That's what we would've done before the Wulani forced us to flee."

Lorn responded with a soft sigh. "That's all in the past, Isha."

A thought surfaced, prompting me to break the silence. "Do you think the other group of Wulani survived?"

Brin frowned, "What do you mean?"

"The ones that Kiera and the others were fleeing from," I explained, "They were in conflict, but that could've only lasted until the winter ended. They would've moved afterward to find more game."

Eamon nodded, his fiery hair glinting in the setting sun. "We should be cautious."

And cautious we would be. As we advanced towards the smoke, our steps light and our senses sharp.

As we drew closer, the source of the smoke became apparent. An encampment sprawled out before us, dotted with tents made from animal hides and sticks. There was no visible wall or any discernible defensive structure that would mark this as a settled tribe.

"Maybe you're right, Tak," Isha said, her eyes fixed on the makeshift settlement. "Maybe they're following the bison."

Eamon chimed in, "That could be possible."

Lorn pondered aloud, "Should we approach them or not?"

Eamon ran a hand through his fiery hair, considering. "The only benefit would be to find out if they're Wulani or not."

I shrugged, "Some of us can partially speak Wulian. That should be easy enough to figure out."

Brin's stoic face softened into a rare smile. "Having the Wulani among us did give us that advantage."

Isha, however, pointed out a flaw in our plan. "What if they aren't Wulani and don't appreciate strangers suddenly appearing?"

Lorn nodded, his face reflecting the weight of her words. "She has a point. We could be inviting danger if we proceed hastily."

A plan formed in my mind. "I could go ahead and check it out, while the rest of you stay back," I suggested.

"No," Brin shot back immediately, "you're not going alone."

A brief silence hung in the air as we all considered our options. After a moment, Eamon finally nodded. "Tak and Brin can go together."

And so it was decided.