"Gather around children and listen to this old fogi!"

Many of the tribes children were crammed into the tent. A sanctuary against the freezing winds outside.

The children looked up excitedly at the man who had entered the tent.

"Yay!"

"Elder Bronson!"

"Tell us about skibidi the brave! Please!"

"Calm down children!" the greyed man waved a hand over the small people.

"Sit, and listen quietly or you will not remember the story." he put a finger to his lips cautiously.

The children quieted and numerous black pearls looked on around the light of the fire in anticipation.

A sadness filled the mans eyes for a moment, before quickly warming again. He smiled.

"Once long ago, so long ago now- the snow would melt, and the world would be covered in warmth and color. I was only a child then. Like you." he pointed around the room with a coy smile.

"Never!" a child blurted out, causing the group to giggle.

"Oh, but I was!" he stroked his bristly grey beard laughing a bit to himself. "What a time it was."

"Sing the song!" a hand raised in the back of the crowd.

The old man waved his arms around "No, no- gods I drove my parents mad with that song and now you do the same towards me!"

"Baby shark do-to-do!"

The crowd erupted into song and the old man pinched the ridge of his nose.

Then he joined in-

"Momma shark do-to-do!"

He'd shout the word shark and jump at one of the children causing them to run away giggling.

After awhile even that song gets old, and the children became tired enough to listen.

"Aha, yes, I annoyed my family quite a bit with that one."

A child raised their hand. "Yes Carmen?"

"Did you ever see them?"

The room became quiet and some of the warmth seemed to recede.

"Yes. I did. But that is apart of my story, no doubt you have heard the rumors of the aliens. From your older siblings, or you over heard it from an adult. -It's true. Partly, some folks around the village exaggerate- but I was there! When I was not much older than you, mind you- they came. In great balls of fire- they fell from the sky!"

He dropped a small clump of coal into the fire causing it to flare up.

A young women who was cleaning clothes in a wash basin in the back of the tent looked up at this.

The man looked from child to child, gauging their reactions. "They had two arms, and two legs like us."

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"And a nose!"

The old man pointed at the boy- "And a nose."

He picked up a walking stick that sat near the fire at the center of the tent and began pacing around the fire.

"They kept to themselves at first, gathering and creating lands of their own."

He drew circles on the ground with his walking stick.

"They created farms, bred beasts, and spoke in strange tongues."

"Were they nice?" a child asked sheepishly.

"No!" the children shrinked away and the man let out a sigh.

"They were the opposite of nice. Their lands, were poisonous to us, the beasts they bred- became dangerous and no longer respected humankind. The tongues they spoke could drive a person mad if they heard them long enough!"

"I don't like this story..." Another child said.

"It's scary..."

"You should be frightful, my children. Oh, you should be. And I'm sorry, but this is a story everyone must know. They must know if they're to be prepared if they come again. The Visitors, they waged a terrible war on our people. Changing us, killing us."

"Where did they go?" the young women who was washing clothes asked.

The elder looked into the fire.

"The tribes of the world left them alone for a time- we tried to negotiate- to speak with them. But like the worlds we lived in, our very words were harmful to each other. They could change to live in our world, but we couldn't change to live in theirs. So the tribes made a decision."

He tightened his grip on his staff.

"Did they ask them to leave?"

"Did they use their guns?"

The elder nodded.

"They did. They believed, rightfully, that this world was theirs long before the visitors. So if humankind was to fade into the night, so too shall their world."

It was a shameless act, but he didn't need to tell the children that. Anyone would determine that for themselves, like his old history teacher said.

It wasn't his job to tell them what to feel.

"They sent bombs to places around the world that changed the weather, it changed the world and forced the beings to leave."

"Is that why we have no more summer?"

"Yes, child. We vanquished one foe, only for another to take their place. Only, this one didn't speak, or care, or to think of others. It was nature. And we've unleashed it onto ourselves. We'd rather brave the forces of nature than face the alien and the strange."

"If we didn't know them, maybe they weren't so bad!"

"If they were good, they would've treated humankind more fairly child. No, if they ever return, know this- they are as uncaring as the cold. They will leave you to starve and die just as the cold will. The main difference being, the cold doesn't have two legs in which to follow you with."

He looked towards the entrance to the tent.

The children's gaze looked as well.

Suddenly the tents flaps opened and a burly man shouted; "BLAH!"

"EEK!" the children shrieked which quickly turned into laughter. Little hats and gloves were tossed at him which the man playfully batted away and shielded himself from.

The elder laughed.

"Welcome back chieftan, so I take it your hunt was a success?"

"Yes, the rights are prepared. Have you... Told the children yet?"

The man shared the melancholic expression as the elder.

"No... Not all of it. Yet." He turned towards the children.

"Children, I tell you this- not to scare you. But to protect you. You are our future, you must be ready. Remember my stories, and tell them to your children. In time, the lessons will become clear as you get older... I- I.... Must go now. To go on my great journey."

"Awe!" the children were a smattering of disappointed faces and some even seemed on the verge of tears.

"-Know of the visitors and know that to reclaim the world of color and warmth- you must be prepared to make sacrifices." he waved his walking stick towards the children.

A child began to cry, John, he was always a sensitive child. But that sense would serve him when he was older.

"Now children, no tears. You know our tribes ways, and they are good."

The Elder put a hand on his shoulder.

"Abide by them. ...I'm not leaving you, the great journey is an honor every elder does to preserve the future of his tribe. I will still be with you in the stories I've told you, in the lessons I've taught."

He gave a warm, bittersweet smile.

"I walk with you in your hearts. As you walk within mine." he placed a hand over his chest.

"Now come here." he opened up his arms and the children huddled into a group hug.

"Who will tell us stories?"

One of the children said as they embraced him.

"Go make your own stories you lazy louts."

The elder jostled their hair and turned to the village chieftain.

"I'm ready."

The two ducked out of the tent- freezing winds blew into the tent nearly extinguishing the fire.

The children went to follow but another man stopped them.

"Children it's time for rope lessons! -Don't give me that face!" the man shouted angrily.