One of my biggest hobbies, aside from learning and reading is writing. I love writing on all kinds of subjects from the scientific to the political. But despite all that, at heart I am a creative writer.
I have had writers block for a while now when it comes to the creative side of things until tonight. Here is chapter one of a story that I just started. I have no plans to work on it more or continue it, but if I do I am just going to go where the writing takes me.
If you like this and think its good, be sure to let me know by liking this post so it gives me motivation to continue it!
If you dont like it, well oh well. You can deal with it.
This has not been edited for grammar or spelling mistakes so go easy on it.
Let me know what you think and if I should continue this or not!
The dark gloomy clouds moved overhead as the small band of hunters made their way through the valley. As the day wore on and as the great flame began to sleep the small group found shelter and made camp for the night.
It had been two days since they had left the tribe, and it had been a rough two days at that. Storms and wild animals causing unpredicted delays. They should be days from here already, and the tracks of the caribou grow old and the path harder to follow.
“What should we do?” Asked Kankut, the advisor and best friend of the chief of the village, the one who led the hunt, Tactum. He looked grim, and likely knew the options that lay at hand but just did not want to mention them. They needed this hunt to be a success, the survival of the entire tribe depended on it. It had been a rough winter and as the snows thawed the flowers sprung, the hunger began to arise once again.
“What we always do,” Tactum grumbled. “We will go on”. There was nothing else for it, either they turned back and empty handed to slowly starve with their families, or they pushed on until they found a suitable supply of food to bring back. While the journey was dangerous and some o them would not make it back, and they all accepted this, it was still more honorable than leaving ones family to fall to the dark grip of hunger.
“But we can barely follow the tracks, which way are we to go?” A man asked, Rikoo, it was his first hunt. Brave, and full of himself at the ripe age of thirteen Rikoo thought the world was under his foot, little did he know how small he was in the scheme of things. Something he would learn soon.
As they got the fire started and got sleeping furs spread around it, light but big drops of rain began to fall. Making a soft, and soothing sound among the trees that surrounded them. While winter had just ended it was still very cold out at night, especially with how high up in the mountains they are, but with the fire, their sleeping furs and regular clothing, they would stay warm enough until the great flame rose once more.
Tonight the hunters would be sharing a feast of three conies and two salmon caught from the river. For the ten of them, it was enough. Nothing special, but it was enough. The moon shown bright, as it was near its zenith and the men stayed up late into the night guided by the light of the great moon god, carving and telling stories.
This group of ten was a tight knit group, ones who did everything together, and went on these long hunting trips, together with nothing to rely on but themselves, they quickly would become like brothers, despite the womb who bore them. A link that only hunters understood would form, and there was nothing else like it.
“Tomorrow we will follow the river farther west, and then go north, that is where it think the heard is headed, I know of good feeding grounds up in that area, it will take us about two days to get there,” suggested Timuk, the star tracker who guided the men on where to go and when.
“Agreed Timuk,” Tactum said, “I know of this hunting ground and I agree the caribou have made their way up the there.” He continued nodding.
A branch cracked, and all of the men immediately stood up, spears in hand and put their backs towards the fire, towards each other. One of them made a shushing sound.
It was silent, not a noise to be heard in the woods, it was eerie, too eerie.
The men began to relax, one of them sat back down. A bolt of lightening ripped across the sky as the rain intensified. Others began to sit back down but not Tactum or Timuk, no they stood as silent sentinels guarding their men from what lurked in the darkness. Eventually they too sat back down, and eventually after designating a set of men to watch over the hunters for the night, found some hard earned sleep.
The men rose with the great flame, gathering all of their things they were ready to go shortly after rising. Just as planned they began to follow the river, and after a half a days journey the came upon something that gave them all hope. Tracks. The caribou tracks had returned! They made the right decision! Soon just as their ancestors had done for beyond memory, they would hunt the great beasts to bring food and skins back to their people to prepare them for the next winter.
On the night before they would come before the great heard, the spirit talker Nanak did a great ritual. To bless the men and keep them from harm. He invoked the names of the great spirits of earth and sky, and asked them for their blessings. Slicing each others hands, they all made a blood sacrifice to the great spirits, to protect one another, and to die for one another if need be. No hunter left behind. The ritual lasted a good part of the night, but left them plenty of time to sleep and prepare for the great hunt in the morning.
While some of them slept easily, others tossed and turned, anxious and afraid or too excited to sleep the men patiently waited for the sun to rise, and for the rest of their lives to begin.