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MutedShades
Meteorite
- Joined
- Jun 8, 2025
Anxious feet paced restlessly against uneven bark, nimble fingers clutching idly at a whittle whilst Kaya Hishu carved mindless patterns into a small slate of smooth wood. The petite wood weaver balanced with practiced ease amidst the many forked branches of her tribe's great oak, hazel eyes narrowed against the fog to the horizon in search of…anything. Movement. A sign that her father, her tribe's great chief, was returning home unscathed. Such a feat would have no avail, however; the rapidly darkening dusk offering no such answer nor comfort as the young woman let out an impatient sigh and began her swift descent down to the foliage below.
The sun had barely begun to rise when the wood weaver tribe and their best warriors had embarked on their ambush. Although prey has recently been rather plentiful, thank Arda; the same could not be said for their land. Rumors and worry still spread in hushed whispers amongst her people like a plague after the dawn patrol's return two full moons ago. Sightings of a possible new and invading adversary; ones that stank of soot and cared little for the abundance of bark clad spirits they struck down for reasons still unknown. Fury still broiled deep within the recesses of the girl's gut at the notion that her very leader had sought not to avenge the damage to their land but instead to stay his hand. To watch, wait, scout more patrols; to order their tribe to retreat their homes deeper within the recesses of the forest instead of standing their ground.
Was it not their duty to defend this territory? Their home? The grand elder had admonished her for her tongue and impatience, advising that it was better to know their enemy first before charging in blind. But what better way was there to know an enemy then at the sharp end of a spear?
Although time, scouting, and patience spared them conflict with these newcomers; its reward was land that was no longer their own.
What fear had these intruders wrought upon her father's weary mind that would push him not to counter, but instead to forcefully negotiate expansion from another neighboring tribe? Not that either had ever truly gotten along in the first place. The younger hunters described the lurkers of the plains as akin to wolves; so swift and silent in their pursuit of their targets that they need not require the cover of canopies nor dense shrubbery to make their mark. They were fierce and valiant hunters able to strike down prey many times their own size. Tales of these encounters used to wrought terrible dreams in Kaya's mind at night as a child. Wary as she still was today, she couldn't help her curiosity towards the news of their journey.
A small spark of envy had not been lost on her either; gazing at the hardened men and women alike with their bows and spears in hand, worn scars of previous pursuits displayed proudly between the deer skin and wood beaded weavings of their hunting attire. Scars brought more honor to a warrior than any extravagant carving, a permanent story etched forever within their tanned olive skin. All while her own remained as smooth as the day Kaya was brought into this world. Their chief seemed to want it no other way.
Kaya shook her head in disdain as her bare feet heavily struck solid ground, hands idly brushing fallen leaves from her buckskin tunic before darting mindlessly through the hustle and bustle of her kin. Most of the men were preparing the small clearing to the woodland center for the night's feast; dry wood and stone bordering being restocked within the underground fire pit while women gathered their younglings or prepared roots and mushrooms from the morning's foraging. Although the routine served to keep hands busy, it did little to stave the apprehension that hung heavy in the chilled evening air. It would appear Kaya was not the only one nervously waiting for the return of their hunting party. Mohe had promised to be back before sundown after all.
"Watch your step, little doe." an elder weaver grumbled as the brunette ducked swiftly under his haul of fallen branches. The girl let out a huff of annoyance at the nickname donned by nearly all of her tribe's inhabitants, stepping out of the way as the silver-haired brute carefully set down his load. "What is the point of my father giving me a name if it hardly gets used" Kaya shot back, the amusement etching into the male's lightly wrinkled face serving only to bristle her short temper more. The tribe’s deputy was always a man with a sharp tongue, back straightening as he regarded her with a keen look; right had absently stroking his long grey beard. The like was heavily braided with a variety of beads, each of which spoke their own tales. Ones of past hunts, past kills, his many children…it was a pride all men wore with age. "Perhaps you will earn your name when you learn to properly carve like a true tribeswoman." Kuruk, her father's brother; countered without hesitation; though his words held no true venom as the stump where his left hand once was gestured playfully towards her sketched art piece. The girl's face flushed with indignation at his audacity, unable to help but glance down self consciously at her carving progress before throwing it off to the side with a huff. "It's not finished yet…" Kaya whined in defeat, crouching down to help sort the branches into piles of small, medium, and large for the fire pit. "I jest, little doe. You'll find your creative spark soon enough."
Whatever retort the brunette had at the ready to strike back was quickly stifled at the distant yet familiar cry of whistle woods. The camp's border scouts answered the signal with falcon-like calls of their own, a message that their party had at last returned.
Kaya perked up at the news, her frame easily pushing past the steadily forming crowd of welcomers at the carefully curved oaks that served as the camp's entrance before her gaze could finally settle onto her people's return. Their current state was less than ideal; most were bruised and battered, bearing deep lacerations throughout their limbs. Yet it appeared the majority returned with their lives. Or so she could tell so far. Most importantly Mohe, their chief; who strutted forwards with both weariness and exhaustion echoing within his emerald eyes much to Kaya's relief. Behind him his entourage brought with them the literal fruit of their pursuits; herbs and other perishable supplies for their sick and young. Much as the young woman wished to eagerly welcome the middle aged warrior's return, it was what he forcefully pulled behind him in tow that made the girl halt in her tracks.
Wrists bound tightly behind his back in bark rope with another bound around his neck to use as a lead, it didn't take much of a glance towards the unknown male's attire and facial paint to realize he was meant to be a spoil of their raid. Much of the surrounding party kept their spears aimed in his direction, ready at a moment's notice should the prisoner attempt any effort to flee. Hushed whispers already began to spring forth, curious children that attempted to inch closer to appease their curiosity were promptly yanked away and ushered to the edges of the clearing towards the safety of the woodland shadows. The entire tribe was in an uproar, scoffing and hissing in his direction while all eyes glanced between him and their chief, waiting to see what was to follow.
Kitchi Nodin, the village elder; paid the unknown man a wary look. Her long silvery locks adorned with many intricately animal-carved beads clinked quietly with every shuffle as she moved towards the front of the crowd, frail worn hands sifting through the haul to sort out its use to the rest of the tribe. Always a woman of work and few words.
Kaya stepped back in surprise, a questioning look adorning her face as her father proceeded to pull the unknown captor in her direction; giving her a nod in greeting before glancing back towards the unknown male. "My daughter, Kaya Hishu. In exchange for the welfare of your tribe and its remaining land…you will see to her safety and bidding." The young woman could barely contain her scoff of annoyance and disgust. That's what this was about? A prisoner meant to follow her around?
"Why not just kill him and be done with it, I don't need a youngling sitter." Kaya argued, caring little about their audience and staring daggers at this intruder that had no right to be here. "I have no use for him."
The sun had barely begun to rise when the wood weaver tribe and their best warriors had embarked on their ambush. Although prey has recently been rather plentiful, thank Arda; the same could not be said for their land. Rumors and worry still spread in hushed whispers amongst her people like a plague after the dawn patrol's return two full moons ago. Sightings of a possible new and invading adversary; ones that stank of soot and cared little for the abundance of bark clad spirits they struck down for reasons still unknown. Fury still broiled deep within the recesses of the girl's gut at the notion that her very leader had sought not to avenge the damage to their land but instead to stay his hand. To watch, wait, scout more patrols; to order their tribe to retreat their homes deeper within the recesses of the forest instead of standing their ground.
Was it not their duty to defend this territory? Their home? The grand elder had admonished her for her tongue and impatience, advising that it was better to know their enemy first before charging in blind. But what better way was there to know an enemy then at the sharp end of a spear?
Although time, scouting, and patience spared them conflict with these newcomers; its reward was land that was no longer their own.
What fear had these intruders wrought upon her father's weary mind that would push him not to counter, but instead to forcefully negotiate expansion from another neighboring tribe? Not that either had ever truly gotten along in the first place. The younger hunters described the lurkers of the plains as akin to wolves; so swift and silent in their pursuit of their targets that they need not require the cover of canopies nor dense shrubbery to make their mark. They were fierce and valiant hunters able to strike down prey many times their own size. Tales of these encounters used to wrought terrible dreams in Kaya's mind at night as a child. Wary as she still was today, she couldn't help her curiosity towards the news of their journey.
A small spark of envy had not been lost on her either; gazing at the hardened men and women alike with their bows and spears in hand, worn scars of previous pursuits displayed proudly between the deer skin and wood beaded weavings of their hunting attire. Scars brought more honor to a warrior than any extravagant carving, a permanent story etched forever within their tanned olive skin. All while her own remained as smooth as the day Kaya was brought into this world. Their chief seemed to want it no other way.
Kaya shook her head in disdain as her bare feet heavily struck solid ground, hands idly brushing fallen leaves from her buckskin tunic before darting mindlessly through the hustle and bustle of her kin. Most of the men were preparing the small clearing to the woodland center for the night's feast; dry wood and stone bordering being restocked within the underground fire pit while women gathered their younglings or prepared roots and mushrooms from the morning's foraging. Although the routine served to keep hands busy, it did little to stave the apprehension that hung heavy in the chilled evening air. It would appear Kaya was not the only one nervously waiting for the return of their hunting party. Mohe had promised to be back before sundown after all.
"Watch your step, little doe." an elder weaver grumbled as the brunette ducked swiftly under his haul of fallen branches. The girl let out a huff of annoyance at the nickname donned by nearly all of her tribe's inhabitants, stepping out of the way as the silver-haired brute carefully set down his load. "What is the point of my father giving me a name if it hardly gets used" Kaya shot back, the amusement etching into the male's lightly wrinkled face serving only to bristle her short temper more. The tribe’s deputy was always a man with a sharp tongue, back straightening as he regarded her with a keen look; right had absently stroking his long grey beard. The like was heavily braided with a variety of beads, each of which spoke their own tales. Ones of past hunts, past kills, his many children…it was a pride all men wore with age. "Perhaps you will earn your name when you learn to properly carve like a true tribeswoman." Kuruk, her father's brother; countered without hesitation; though his words held no true venom as the stump where his left hand once was gestured playfully towards her sketched art piece. The girl's face flushed with indignation at his audacity, unable to help but glance down self consciously at her carving progress before throwing it off to the side with a huff. "It's not finished yet…" Kaya whined in defeat, crouching down to help sort the branches into piles of small, medium, and large for the fire pit. "I jest, little doe. You'll find your creative spark soon enough."
Whatever retort the brunette had at the ready to strike back was quickly stifled at the distant yet familiar cry of whistle woods. The camp's border scouts answered the signal with falcon-like calls of their own, a message that their party had at last returned.
Kaya perked up at the news, her frame easily pushing past the steadily forming crowd of welcomers at the carefully curved oaks that served as the camp's entrance before her gaze could finally settle onto her people's return. Their current state was less than ideal; most were bruised and battered, bearing deep lacerations throughout their limbs. Yet it appeared the majority returned with their lives. Or so she could tell so far. Most importantly Mohe, their chief; who strutted forwards with both weariness and exhaustion echoing within his emerald eyes much to Kaya's relief. Behind him his entourage brought with them the literal fruit of their pursuits; herbs and other perishable supplies for their sick and young. Much as the young woman wished to eagerly welcome the middle aged warrior's return, it was what he forcefully pulled behind him in tow that made the girl halt in her tracks.
Wrists bound tightly behind his back in bark rope with another bound around his neck to use as a lead, it didn't take much of a glance towards the unknown male's attire and facial paint to realize he was meant to be a spoil of their raid. Much of the surrounding party kept their spears aimed in his direction, ready at a moment's notice should the prisoner attempt any effort to flee. Hushed whispers already began to spring forth, curious children that attempted to inch closer to appease their curiosity were promptly yanked away and ushered to the edges of the clearing towards the safety of the woodland shadows. The entire tribe was in an uproar, scoffing and hissing in his direction while all eyes glanced between him and their chief, waiting to see what was to follow.
Kitchi Nodin, the village elder; paid the unknown man a wary look. Her long silvery locks adorned with many intricately animal-carved beads clinked quietly with every shuffle as she moved towards the front of the crowd, frail worn hands sifting through the haul to sort out its use to the rest of the tribe. Always a woman of work and few words.
Kaya stepped back in surprise, a questioning look adorning her face as her father proceeded to pull the unknown captor in her direction; giving her a nod in greeting before glancing back towards the unknown male. "My daughter, Kaya Hishu. In exchange for the welfare of your tribe and its remaining land…you will see to her safety and bidding." The young woman could barely contain her scoff of annoyance and disgust. That's what this was about? A prisoner meant to follow her around?
"Why not just kill him and be done with it, I don't need a youngling sitter." Kaya argued, caring little about their audience and staring daggers at this intruder that had no right to be here. "I have no use for him."
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