Our return to the Ashaya tribe was met with much warmth and curiosity. Maeve and Zulu, youthful energy personified, abandoned their play with Finn and ran over to us, their smiles as wide as their little faces could allow.

"Big brother, you're back! What happened out there?" Maeve's question was tinged with eagerness, her azure eyes alight with excitement. I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"Not much, Maeve. But a lot as well," I replied cryptically. "We have to go see Mako first."

She nodded, her hair bouncing with the movement. Zulu, not to be outdone, piped in, "I want to hear all about it when you come back from the elders' hall, Tak!"

As he mentioned the elders' hall, I noticed that the structure we'd left under construction had now been completed. A long, rectangular building made of fired clay bricks, it bore an aura of tranquility and authority. It had two windows and a chimney for the fireplace, a touch of homeliness amidst its gravitas. A few new homes, built from the same material, also sprang up around the vicinity, proof of our tribe's relentless progress.

Approaching the elders' hall, we spotted Mako outside, locked in what appeared to be a fervent debate with Kiera. Their conversation was soon disrupted by Eamon's hearty greeting, and Mako's calm brown eyes widened in surprise as he took in our arrival.

"How was the outing?" Mako asked, but before anyone could reply, Eamon interrupted, "We'll explain everything, Mako. But we need to gather all the elders."

It was at this point that Mako noticed our unfamiliar companion, a wounded man we'd found in the forest. He gave a curt nod and turned to enter the newly built elders' hall. When he reappeared, he held a large animal horn, its sheer size hinting at the creature it once belonged to. Placing it to his lips, Mako blew a long, resounding note. The sound echoed throughout our settlement, an unmistakable summons for all the elders.

As the last reverberation died away, I found myself gripped by a sense of anticipation.

The soft thud of the heavy, clay door closing behind us echoed throughout the hall, its reverberation gradually absorbed by the thick, sun-dried walls. I watched as the strange man, still favoring his wounded side, looked around in awe, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames from the central fireplace. They flickered over the clay pots arranged on rustic shelves, the animal fur rugs that softened the earthen floor, and the square platforms that provided seating for the elders. It was a modest but comfortable space, where the wisdom of our tribe came together to shape our path.

No sooner had we seated ourselves on the platforms when the other elders, Garan, Jara, Aisling, and Cara, stepped inside. I felt their eyes study us, lingering on the unfamiliar man who sat amidst our ranks. The quiet nods they offered us were an unspoken acknowledgement of our return, a silent welcome back to the fold.

Mako, ever the pragmatic leader, wasted no time in requesting an account of our journey. Eamon, with his fiery hair catching the flicker of the hearth, narrated our tale, leaving out no detail, concluding with Lorn's decision to stay behind and monitor the hostile tribe.

A silence fell upon the hall as Mako processed our words. His eyes, squinted in contemplation. Finally, he gestured for opinions. Aisling, the green of her eyes burning in the firelight, was the first to break the silence.

"Risking our own for strangers seems like a dangerous path," she began, her voice measured. "We've been working hard to build and protect our tribe. Do we throw it away?"

Her words were met with solemn nods. Then Kiera, a Wulani woman who had made our tribe her home, raised her voice.

"I understand your fears," she acknowledged. "But they are my people, held captive. We cannot leave them."

Cara, another Wulani woman who had found refuge among us, added, "They could be our kin, my kin. Can we turn our backs on them?"

Garan's voice rose, tempering the emotional pleas. "We must tread carefully," he advised. "We know little about Vilthur's tribe. We face great risks if we act in haste."

As more voices chimed in, each with their own reasoning, Mako raised a hand, silencing the room. He turned to Brin, asking for a description of the enemy's camp. As Brin's words painted a vivid picture, I added what I had noticed - the many animal skin tents, a sign of their numbers.

I was met with blank stares. I had forgotten they did not understand numbers as I did. But this was our reality now, a challenge to understand and adapt.

Mako turned his gaze toward me, his seasoned eyes carrying an unspoken question. "And what of your thoughts, Tak?" he asked, his voice echoing off the clay walls.

A flutter of uncertainty swept over me. I glanced at Eamon and then Brin, their faces a mixture of concern and expectation. I shrugged, saying, "I'm not sure my opinion will hold much weight."

Mako's gaze didn't waver. "Akara found wisdom in your words, despite your youth," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your unique perspective can be quite enlightening."

A warm flush crept up my neck as I nodded, acknowledging his faith in me. I took a deep breath and began.

"Vilthur's tribe uses stone weapons," I started. "Their huts have no real protection. They're vulnerable, but their strength lies in their numbers."

I paused for a moment, wondering how best to explain my estimate. "If we consider three individuals per hut, then their tribe is large. More than a hundred, perhaps."

My declaration hung in the air as I continued, "Rescuing the Wulani prisoners will be dangerous, and the payoff seems small. All they would contribute to our tribe is their labor."

As I said this, Kiera tried to interrupt, but I spoke over her, trying to get my point across before I lost the confidence to do so. "But they are women, so they bring potential life, and more hands to work and protect our tribe."

I saw Brin nodding, an understanding glimmer in his eyes. Encouraged, I added, "Moreover, if we save them, it could strengthen the bond between our tribes. The Wulani living among us could see us as allies, not enemies. If we don't, it might breed resentment and lead to further conflict."

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Cara, who had been silent until now, nodded. "That's true," she murmured, her voice heavy with worry. "We do not want any more tension."

Mako turned his attention back to Brin. "What's your plan, Brin?" he asked, but before he could respond, I interrupted.

"I have some modifications, if you don't mind," I said, locking eyes with Brin. He looked surprised, but gestured for me to continue.

"Well," I started, glancing at the rest of the crowd before focusing back on Mako. "We don't necessarily have to risk an all-out confrontation with Vilthur's tribe."

Eamon, the strongest of us all, leaned forward with a puzzled expression on his face. "How is that possible, Tak?"

"Instead of marching directly into Vilthur's tribe, we could send a small group," I began, "Those among us who are agile and can move silently."

Murmurs erupted around the room as the others considered my words. I could see the confusion etching onto their faces. After all, a direct confrontation was what we've always known.

"They would have to observe Vilthur's tribe first. To understand their patterns, their habits," I continued. "Once they know when to strike, they can sneak in, rescue the women, and escape without alerting the entire tribe."

The elders fell into a deep silence. Some looked skeptical, others thoughtful. I couldn't tell if my idea had been well-received or dismissed as impractical.

"Even if they get caught, the entire tribe won't be in immediate danger," I added, hoping to alleviate some of the tension. The room fell silent as everyone digested the idea.

Brin broke the silence, "It's an interesting thought, Tak. But if those people are caught, they're as good as dead." He didn't sound dismissive, rather, he was being realistic, and I appreciated his candor.

Mako intervened, "They'd be dead if we lose a direct confrontation as well." His voice echoed the harsh truth. It was risky, every option was. We were dealing with unknown territory here.

Garan, who had been quietly observing the discussion, finally spoke up, "If we decide on war, we would need more copper weapons."

"And those wooden shields Tak has come up with," Brin added, glancing at me.

Mako looked at me, raising an eyebrow in interest, "Let's see it, Tak."

I retrieved the shield from a corner of the room and brought it to Mako. It was made of wood, fortified with thick vines, hardened clay, and animal hide. I had spent countless hours perfecting the design.

"This can withstand arrows, and even stone axes and spears," I explained, feeling a surge of pride. I handed the shield to Mako, and he examined it carefully.

Garan, looking curious, asked to see it after Mako. He took it in his hands and studied it, then gave a nod of approval. "Always something interesting from you, Tak," he said, his tone carrying an undertone of admiration.

I glanced at my mother. Aisling was smiling at me. Her eyes were full of pride, and it warmed me to my core.

Mako turned his attention back to Garan, "What are your thoughts, Garan?" he asked, his eyes carrying the weight of the decision that had to be made. All eyes turned to Garan, waiting for his response, his thoughts.

Garan's brow furrowed, "If this shield is as solid as Tak says it is, then we can create more. Each person without a bow can have this for protection."

His words stirred a memory from my past life. The powerful image of tightly locked shields, protecting their bearers, and defying the onslaught of enemies. The idea seemed far-fetched, but then again, so did many of my creations.

"We can even create a wall of shields," I chimed in, excitement coursing through me. All eyes turned to me, questioning looks etched on their faces. Mako tilted his head, "And how would we do this?"

Excitement gripped me as I asked for the shield back from Garan. "Brin, Eamon, come here," I beckoned to the two men, who stepped forward to join me. "Now imagine you're holding the same shield," I instructed them. I began to demonstrate how the shields could be interlocked, providing a wall of protection.

The room was silent, but I could feel the electric charge of anticipation and curiosity. I saw the glimmer of understanding in Garan's eyes first, followed by a spark in Mako's.

"This could work," Garan finally declared, breaking the silence, "With our copper-tipped spears, we can strike through small gaps without worrying about a counter-attack." His enthusiasm was contagious, his belief in my idea bolstering my own confidence.

I nodded, "Yes, but remember, our tribe is small. We may not be able to create a large wall of shields."

Mako contemplated, then responded, "That may not matter if we have archers consistently firing arrows. Over time, the numbers of the enemy will dwindle."

I stood there, silently processing what had just transpired. For a moment, the burden of decision seemed less heavy, the future less grim. I felt a spark of hope ignite within me. We might just have a chance.

Kiera's eyes lit up at our discussion, "I'll spread the word, we can gather whatever we need to make more shields."

Mako, however, was more reserved, "We should test this shield before we set everyone to work. If it doesn't do as Tak claims, we could be wasting valuable resources."

I understood the caution in his voice. Handing the shield to Garan, I said, "Test it all you want. I believe in its strength."

As we all nodded, Mako broke the silence, "If that is everything, we have a lot to ponder over the next few days."

Garan agreed, "We'll have to prepare food, drinks, and gather materials for more arrows."

The meeting concluded and Mako dismissed us. As we started to get up, Eamon looked at the injured stranger and asked, "What about him? What do we do with him?"

Aisling's voice was calm and measured, "Bring him to my healer's hut. Isha will come along as well, so I can look at her arm." Isha, the scout and a good hunter was injured, so my mother would help tend to her wound to make sure it healed as best it could..

Aisling then turned to Mako, "Once he is healed, we can try to communicate with him."

Throughout our deliberations, the injured man had remained silent, his eyes wide and alert, as if he was trying to decipher our language. His body was riddled with arrow wounds, and his face painted with distinct blue, red, and yellow stripes. A marking that belonged to Vilthur's tribe.

I stepped out of the elders' hall, the afternoon sun hitting my face. My mind still swirled with the discussions we had just finished, the gravity of the situation yet to sink in fully. The others dispersed in various directions, each carrying the weight of our decisions.

Liora spotted me from a distance. Her fiery hair shimmered under the sun, and her slender figure moved gracefully towards me. "How was it outside, Tak?" she asked, her emerald eyes reflecting concern.

"Could have been better," I admitted, and her frown deepened. She inquired further, and I didn't hold back. The tribe should know what's coming.

As I detailed our encounters and subsequent discussions, her hazel eyes widened, and she shook her head. "They should be helped," she declared, echoing the sentiment that had been voiced by the elders earlier.

"That's what the elders are trying to figure out," I assured her, trying to keep my tone light.

A swift change of topic seemed in order. "Where are the wolf pups?" I asked, looking around for the three little furballs we'd recently taken under our wing.

"They're asleep," Liora informed me, her lips curving into a soft smile at the mention of the pups. "But they never sleep for long."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "That's how babies are, sleep for a few hours, awake for a few more, and repeat."

Liora laughed at my comment, then her face turned serious. "Enara told me something," she began, her tone somber. Enara was the Wulani woman, around our age. "One of the Wulani women is with child."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Does she know who it is?"

Liora nodded, a mysterious smile dancing on her lips. "Are you going to share?" I prodded, intrigued.

Her grin widened. "No, I won't spoil the news for when it spreads to the rest of the tribe."

Shaking my head at her secrecy, I changed the topic. "How have things been here while I was away?"

Liora launched into a detailed recount of her days while I was away. I listened attentively as she shared her days of berry picking, tending to the wolf pups, and her ongoing lessons with Aisling about herbal medicine. Despite the looming uncertainty, life within our tribe had continued unabated.