As dawn broke, I found myself perched on a hill, observing the tribe in the distance. The shadow cast on my sundial told me that three hours had already passed since Mako and Kiera had left for their diplomatic mission. I couldn't help but feel a knot of worry in my stomach. How were they faring?

A soft rustling to my side broke my train of thought and I glanced over to see Enara.

"Why are you here alone?" She asked, breaking the silence between us. Her voice, though soft, carried a weight of concern.

"I'm just... worried," I confessed, glancing at her.

Enara nodded, a serious look on her face. "We all are. If this doesn't work out, then..." She trailed off, but she didn't need to finish her sentence. We both knew what was at stake here.

Changing the subject, I asked, "Why'd you come here?"

"Liora was worried, and so was your mother," she replied. I couldn't help but smile at that. Liora, my loyal friend, and Aisling, my loving mother - they had always been my rock.

"Where's Liora now?" I asked, curious about my friend's whereabouts.

"She went out with some others, to see what they could find in this area. We've never been this far out before," Enara answered, her eyes still fixed on the distant tribe.

A light chuckle escaped my lips, the idea of Liora exploring new territories seemed fitting. She had always been adventurous.

My eyes then fell on the primitive bow Enara was toying with. "Are you ready for what's to come?" I asked her, my voice dropping to a whisper.

"I'll do whatever it..." she started, but her voice trailed off as her eyes widened. Following her gaze, I saw the figures of Mako and Kiera, emerging from the perimeter of Vilthur's tribe.

From our vantage point, Vilthur's tribe seemed almost peaceful. A collection of huts made from animal hides stretched out in the clearing, held together by sticks and bones. There were no walls surrounding the community, instead, it was an open space, a vulnerable settlement. I could see wisps of smoke trailing up into the sky, suggesting the presence of a fire, perhaps for warmth or cooking. The small figures of people moved about, busy with their daily chores.

Mako and Kiera returned to our tribe. The members had been anxiously waiting, their expressions reflecting the nervous anticipation in their hearts. Kiera's face was stern, her wrinkles deepening as she set her jaw firmly. Mako looked equally resolute, but there was a weariness in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

Clearing his throat, Mako looked at Kiera who gave him a quiet nod. "The people of Vilthur's tribe," he began, his voice echoing in the quiet evening, "refuse to let go of the Wulani women without a price."

He paused, looking at each one of us, allowing his words to sink in. "They want our copper and bows in exchange for the lives they hold captive."

Kiera stepped forward, adding her voice to the announcement. "We refused to give up our hard-earned resources. We offered them food, tastes they have never had before, but we were met with mockery."

Her dark eyes hardened, her voice growing sharper with each word. "They want a war, they want to fight. So that's exactly what they'll get."

A murmur spread through the crowd, a mix of fear, anger, and determination. My mother, Aisling, spoke up, her emerald green eyes reflecting concern. "What about the captive women? How are they?"

Mako sighed, a troubled look crossing his face. "They're safe, for now. But we cannot predict for how long, especially now when those barbarians are baying for blood."

His voice dropped to a whisper, but it carried enough weight to make everyone fall silent. "There's more. They have more captives than just our Wulani women. They've enslaved them... and they've been using them to keep their men satisfied."

The outrage was immediate and deafening, shouts of anger and promises of revenge echoing through the night. Amidst the noise, Kiera continued, her voice steady despite the grim news she relayed.

"Some are already with child, and some... some have already passed."

The revelation struck the crowd like a punch, the outrage replaced by a somber silence. One of the Wulani men, Belva, broke the silence. "When do we attack?" He shouted, his voice filled with a desperate need for action. "Just say the word!"

Mako and Kiera exchanged a glance before she gave him a nod. "Soon," Mako replied, his voice firm. "Later tonight."

Belva looked taken aback, as did several others. "Why not now?" He demanded, the others echoing his sentiment.

Kiera answered, her gaze steady. "We want to attack when they least expect it. Let them stay up, get tired as they wait for an attack they think will come now."

Belva's questions, Mako's declaration, Kiera's strategy, they all echoed in my mind, building an insurmountable tension. My heart pounded against my ribcage, anxiety gnawing at my gut. This was our fight, though. We had no choice.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Mako called Garan over, their heads dipping into a quick, whispered conversation. With a curt nod, Garan disappeared back into the crowd. Kiera and Mako addressed the tribe, their words echoed with the command to rest, rest before the storm that was to come.

I felt a tug on my sleeve and turned to see Liora, her soft eyes glowing in the evening light. "Be careful tonight, Tak," she pleaded, a touch of worry in her voice.

"I will," I assured her. "You too, Liora."

Her brow furrowed. "What's bothering you, Tak?"

It wasn't an accusation, just a simple question, but it made me pause. I gazed at her for a moment, pondering. "Something feels... off."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes searched mine.

I gestured towards the bustling Vilthur tribe. "Their numbers... they're too large to be sustained by Bison and what they can forage."

Her face paled slightly. "That might explain why I couldn't find any fruit in the area."

"But it doesn't make sense... why they'd refuse food in exchange for the women." My voice trailed off, lost in a sea of confusing thoughts.

"Then what do you think is going on, Tak?" Liora pressed.

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my temples. "I don't know, Liora. I really don't know." The weight of the unknown hung heavy, but we had to press on.

"Why don't you ask Mako about it?" Liora proposed, a hint of uncertainty tinging her voice.

I shook my head. "It's not that simple, Liora."

I fished out the small sundial I always kept with me, the light of the setting sun casting long shadows on the dial. Two ticks, I reminded myself, I had two ticks.

"Liora," I began, meeting her gaze. "If I don't come back in two ticks, tell Mako."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "What are you going to do, Tak?"

"I'm going down there," I confessed, my gaze drifting toward the edge of our encampment, where the lands of Vilthur's tribe began.

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Are you insane, Tak?"

A laugh escaped me, the absurdity of the situation hitting me hard. "No, Liora, I'm not insane. I just think we need all the information we can get before we risk our lives."

"You're risking your life by going down there," she retorted, a clear note of worry in her voice.

"I know," I admitted, swallowing hard. The prospect was scary, no doubt about it. "But I don't think they will kill me."

The look she gave me was one I couldn't decipher. Was it fear, worry, or disbelief? I couldn't tell. With a heavy sigh, I gave her a tight smile, got up, and began to make my way towards the treacherous territory of the Vilthur tribe.

☽☽☽

Perched on the edge of Vilthur's tribe, I was almost immediately approached by two men. Their bodies were sturdy and their hands firmly gripped flint-tipped spears. The language that flowed from their lips was foreign, unintelligible to my ears.

"Wulani," I began, hoping my voice didn't betray my nervousness. "Vilthur." The two words rang in the still evening air, words I hoped they could comprehend.

The men studied me, their expressions guarded. One shouted something in that same unfamiliar language. I could only stand there, acutely aware of my vulnerable position.

I took in the sight of the tribe, my gaze sliding over the sea of animal hide huts, the people moving within the boundaries of the camp. I counted forty huts, yet, surprisingly, there weren't as many people milling about as I'd expected.

Abruptly, one of the men stepped aside, the other giving me a firm push forward. I complied, letting him guide me deeper into the heart of the tribe.

The dwellings, as I walked past, were humble and unadorned, their animal hide surfaces weathered by time and elements. The inhabitants of these huts carried a similar worn look, their clothes simple, fashioned from animal skins, much like their homes. The men appeared hearty, their bodies solid, their faces hardened by life's rigors. The women, in stark contrast, wore an air of melancholy.

Here and there, I spotted people crafting tools from bones and stones, the rhythmic sounds of their labor carrying in the wind. A fire roared at the center of the encampment, tendrils of smoke wafting into the dusk. The scent of roasting meat hit me, a delicious smell that belied the tension that hung heavy in the air.

I came to a halt suddenly, a realization striking me. There was no water source in sight. No river, no well, not even a small stream. This vital piece of information stuck with me as I was prodded once more to move forward.

The tent flap swung open abruptly, and I was prodded inside by the sharp tip of a spear. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, they met the unsettling gaze of a man seated across the room. He was lean, muscular, adorned with scars that etched the stories of a thousand battles on his arms. His face bore the same markings I'd seen earlier – blue, red, and yellow stripes that marked him as Vilthur, leader of this tribe.

Across from him sat a girl, her age similar to mine. She too wore the same tribal markings on her face, but it was her eyes that caught my attention – they were a brilliant blue, filled with an innocent curiosity that contrasted with the scene around us. Her raven black hair fell in two braids over her shoulders, and an animal tooth necklace graced her neck, adding a strange elegance to her look.

Vilthur, engaged in a meal of cooked bison meat, barked sharply at my escort, his tone a harsh rebuke. "Chikani ilkarutu ne’naq!" His words rolled off his tongue in an alien language, punctuated with irritation.

"Nelkak qak aninamaq," the man responded with a nod in my direction before he withdrew, leaving me alone with Vilthur and the young girl.

The girl continued to watch me, her curiosity seemingly unscathed by the tension in the tent. Vilthur, however, cast me a lingering, steely gaze. I didn’t understand the words they spoke, but I could read the unspoken language of their actions well enough.

The tent flap was roughly pulled back, and the man who'd left earlier returned, pushing a familiar figure in front of him. Aiasha, a captive woman from our tribe, was led in. Her frame was leaner than I remembered, her eyes dull from deprivation and fear. The thick vines binding her wrists were a stark reminder of her status.

Vilthur addressed her in his foreign tongue, his words sharp and demanding. Aiasha listened intently, her lips moving silently as she parsed his words. After a moment, she turned to me and asked in Wulani, "Hwæt, eart þū hēr?"(Why have you returned here?)

I took a deep breath. "Ic cwōm tō frignan for hwī Vilthur forwyrnde ūre offrunge." (I came to ask why Vilthur declined our offer.)

Her eyes widened slightly before she relayed my question to Vilthur. The tribal leader laughed, a rich, hearty sound that echoed through the tent. He responded in his language, his expression relaxed as he returned to his meal.

Aiasha turned to me, her gaze steady. "Hē cwæþ hīe ne bēoþ þearfend līfesfōda. Hīe huntaþ, gadriaþ, and libbaþ. Hīe faraþ mid dēorum, ēfre on fōrþwege." (They need no food. They hunt, gather, and live. Traveling around with the animals.)

My mind turned over her words, trying to make sense of them. They didn't need food? They followed the animals, always on the move? I mulled over the implications. Perhaps this information could be used to our advantage, perhaps it was merely a distraction from our purpose here. Either way, we needed all the information we could get.