Timestamp: Summer 1st, 516
Her leg curled over his, listening to the thumping of his heart within his chest, her arm draped over him, Kopesha was happy. She loved listening to the sound of Chokaji’s heart as they lay together in their tent beneath the Eyktol moon. It was powerful, a steadying force in her life. She felt his lips press against her forehead and she squeezed her husband back, “My wildflower, which hunting band are you going with tomorrow?” She rolled her eyes at his dumb question, deciding to chide him a bit. “I’ve been thinking of joining Jarachi’s. Try my hand at something new. He asks me almost every day.” She could see Sootay in the corner, cleaning himself, smiling devilshly at her guardian.
She could hear his heart speed up as his jealousy started to race through him. But he did not let it out, “Why hunt with that Awahtoklo? He does not honor Brother Eywaat.” Kopesha hid her smile in his chest, having decided to stir up her husband’s passion some more. They both knew that Jarachi was one of her suitors and had the blessing of her parents before Chokaji earned it as well. “Maybe I can change him. Make him see the better way, be a better man.” Chokaji’s heart was as powerful and loud as a rushing river in flood season, and she could hear his heated breath flaring through his nostrils.
“That fool of a man does not deserve to be changed by one as beautiful and wild as you. If he wishes to be better, he would honor the gods, honor our people. He is a child, not a man.”
Kopesha rolled a bit, her eyes cast up toward Chokaji’s, still seeing the passion in his eyes, “And where might I find a good man?”
It was only in that phrase that Chokaji realized she had been goading him, and a sly smile grew upon his face, “I see you’re honouring Brother Crow with your words this night… How many men do you have upon your mind, wildflower mine?” She smirked, “As many as it takes to satisfy me.” A challenge to his manhood issued. That was enough to push him over the edge, just as she wanted. He said not another word, but rolled her upon her back, kissing her passionately. Kopesha said a silent prayer to both Eywaat and Makutsi, that tonight would be the night that they would bless her with a child.
A few hours later, Kopesha’s obsidian eyes shot open, having heard something. She looked up at Chokaji, seeing him awake now too, knife already in hand, “What is it, Kaji?” He did not answer yet, a sign she knew to mean for her to be quiet. He was the better hunter of the two of them, so she gave way to his experience. Slowly, he rose to a crouch, and Kopesha joined him, gathering up her own knife. He crept toward the flap of their tent, stooping to peer out of the folds.
Kopesha could feel her heart racing. She was struggling to tamper down her breathing, something Chokaji did automatically. He could be as silent as a spider when he was hunting. They waited, long, agonizing moments, before Chokaji pointed backwards at his bow. Kopesha moved slowly, grabbing it and his quiver, handing them to her husband. He shouldered the quiver, drawing two arrows, and silently nocking the bow. He then slipped out of the tent in a fluid movement, not even causing the fabric to make the slightest flap in the wind. Kopesha knew her duty now. Defend herself. Let no one or anything get into the tent alive until Chokaji returned to her. If she needed to run, she would run. Chokaji could always track her down later. In the harshness of Eyktol, with great beasts, monsters, and bandits, practicality was a way of life. She stayed in a crouch, knife readied, palms sweating as she waited, Sootay at her side, teeth bared and ready to fight, even if he couldn’t actually do anything.
The flap moved, and she stabbed forward without hesitation, thanks to her training from her husband. Her hand was grabbed by a large fist, yet there was no pain in the grip. She instantly relaxed as Chokaji opened the flap more. In the lowest of whispers, “Cloaks. Come with me. We need to move. Something is wrong, I can feel it, but I know not what.” Kopesha grabbed their crow feathered cloaks, as they wrapped them around their naked bodies. She stepped out into the silver moonlight, looking all around at the many tents of the rest of the hunting band. She knew they had a few dozen hunters here, of varying skill levels. It was safest to travel like this, lonely hunters had a tendency to never be heard from again. No one else was out of their tents, but she knew there were night watches stationed around the edges of the camp.
Knife in hand, she followed her husband in silence, walking in his footsteps, something her mother had taught her to do, as they made their way to the nearest sentry station. As they reached it, she saw no one posted there. That was a high betrayal. To leave the watch post was to put everyone at risk, and resulted in the guilty person being executed. Though it seemed that Chokaji had read her mind, pointing at the sand, illuminated under this cloudless night. There were a few footprints leading out from the post which ended in a damp spot. But there were no prints leading back. She couldn’t see her husband’s face, but she knew it was a thin grim line. She didn’t know what these signs meant, but she knew it couldn’t be good.
Chokaji continued to scan the sands, searching for a sign, anything he could find that could have led to the sentry’s disappearance. That was when Kopesha’s fingertips felt a rapid stream of water cross her fingertips, a warning sign. And she knew if she felt it, Chokaji did too, and he was already moving because of it. He twisted, diving toward her, tackling her hard into the sand, as something swung over top of them. She saw it momentarily as it eclipsed the moon, long, thick. A tail. She didn’t have time to process this further as her husband’s tackle knocked the wind from her lungs.
That was when multiple screams broke out, from all around the camp. Chokaji was quick to get off her, turning to face their attacker, as she was slower to get up. And that’s when she saw it, her eyes growing wide in terror. It was huge, thick muscled, a long tail, and a massive, slender teeth filled maw. A tsana. And where there was one tsana, there were fifty more. But where had it come from? As Kopesha recovered her faculties, she saw the sand beneath it was terribly disturbed. It was buried there, waiting. The beast swung its mighty tail once more, and Chokaji crouched, raising his large knife in a swing, chopping into it. He severed a sizable chunk of the tail, turning back toward the camp, as Kopesha was up on her feet, turning with him. She knew it was time to run. You do not fight a tsana alone.
The pair sprinted through the tents, as they yelled out, “Tsana! Tsana!” Chokaji stopped but she knew to keep running, as he turned, firing two arrows at the pursuing beast. The screams filled the camp, bestial screams of the mighty beasts, those of startled Chaktawe, and those of Chaktawe in agonizing pain. It was a slaughter, their hunting band caught unawares. Her mind was racing as she ran. There was no point in fleeing into the desert without supplies, they would die out there without preparation. She needed to get to their packs. They always kept their packs readied just in case they needed to leave in a hurry.
She saw their tent up ahead, the loose sand flying out from beneath her padded feet. A scream came from her left as Kelua, a friend from her childhood sprinted out in terror, just as a tail snatched out, grabbing her by the neck, and yanking her back into the darkness of a tent. There was a crunching of bones and gurgling noise and Kopesha knew she was dead. But it had been enough of a distraction that Kopesha wasn’t moving. Chokaji was at her side a moment later, “Keep moving! Do not stop moving!”
Once again, they were racing toward their tent, as a soft orange glow began to fill the west side of the encampment. Someone’s tent caught fire, and now risked taking the rest of them too. Kopesha dove into their tent, grabbing their packs, shouldering her own, carrying Chokaji’s since he had the bow. She turned to step back out, seeing her husband’s silhouette on the tent flap. She could hear his whisper to her carried by a lucky breeze. “Wildflower… run.”
Her eyes grew wide, seeing multiple tsana shadows closing in on him, a hand covering her mouth at the realization of what he’d just said to her. She forced herself to stay silent, biting her hand to keep the scream in as she watched the tsana lunge at him, and he yelled as he fought back. She knew he was only yelling to keep their attention on him. She hoped the winds would be as kind to him as they were to her, as she whispered, “I love you, Chokaji, now and for always.”
And with that, she quietly cut an exit out of the back of the tent, and snuck out, tear drops falling upon the silver sands. She avoided her fellow Chaktawe, avoided anything that moved as she made her way out of the encampment. The screams filled the air and the smell of smoke filled the air, as she climbed a dune, sure that she was going to be eaten at any given time. By the time she crested the peak, she was drained of tears, collapsing up there. Sootay laid with her, but he too was shocked and in mourning at Chokaji’s loss. She could see their encampment, as the fire raged. It burned so bright that she didn’t notice the sun was starting to rise. It wasn’t long until she saw the herd flee from the burning encampment, amazed at their numbers, and their size from this distance.
Kopesha waited until the sun was high, before climbing back down the dune, each step heavier than the last, not wanting to see what she knew she would find. She was not alone in this trek, other survivors coming out of hiding, now that the beasts were gone. Nearly every tent was burned to the ground, the air stinking. She could taste the copper in the air from all of the blood spilled. The survivors seemed to all be moving automatically, everyone in some form of shock. Kopesha’s leadened feet carried her to where their tent had been, for it too had been burned up.
And there before the rubble, was Chokaji. His eyes were opened and staring at her, unmoving, flies already moving in. His innards had been ripped out and eaten, a dark shadow of his blood beneath him. Kopesha fell to her knees, vomiting, heaving, sobbing there. She didn’t know how long she’d been there kneeling, screaming, but she felt the rains beginning to fall, hard and powerful. She felt the waters start to wash over her, but her anger was glowing hot.
She wanted to curse those terrible beasts, to vow revenge on them, to kill them all, but she knew what Chokaji would say. A woman’s voice spoke his exact words from behind her, “They are animals, who drink the waters of the Rain Mother just as we do. They must live and die, just as we do.” Kopesha’s head turned, eyes blurry and burning from her tears, to look at this woman whose voice flowed as a soft stream over stones. “How.. How do you know those words?”
The woman gave Kopesha a soft, empathetic smile, “I watch over my children. Chokaji was one of the finest of them. As are you.” Kopesha looked over at Sootay who was staring up at the woman in awe. “And you as well, Sootay.” Kopesha then knew who this must be, rising to her feet before her goddess Makutsi. She was at a loss of words for a long while, staring at the goddess she had followed since she was a girl. She wiped away her tears, caught her breath, composing herself. “Rain Mother, thank you for coming.”
Makutsi smiled, embracing Kopesha, “You have a question to ask me. So ask me.”
Kopesha took a deep breath, “Will you take Chokaji with you? We both live in your name, we married in your name, we prayed for a child in your name. He would wish to be with you now.”
Makutsi’s smile grew somber, and for a moment, it seemed as if she were studying Kopesha with a ferocious intensity. But Kopesha did not look away. Her heart knew she was safe with her goddess. And then Makutsi spoke, “I will, but you must bring him to me. Your people will be heading west, to reunite with your tribe. Bring Chokaji eastward to me. You will know when you find your destination. If you do this, I will take Chokaji with me.”
With that, determination grew over Kopesha’s face, “Yes, Rain Mother.” And Makutsi smiled once more, walking over to some more of the fallen Chaktawe who needed her in this dire moment. Kopesha looked down at her poor husband, “I will take you to her, my raging river.” She knew she wouldn’t be able to take him and her supplies on this journey, she simply wasn’t strong enough. She knelt down, digging out his blood soaked cloak from under him. She grabbed a stone, and with the help of the rain, scrubbed it clean of his blood. She then rolled him onto it, wrapping him up in it, and tying it around him. She slowly, struggling, worked to get her shoulder beneath his ribs. It was disconcerting to feel such a big gap in his flesh, an area where he had so much muscle, a place she would run her fingers over as they laid together, was just gone. But she pushed through it. She pushed in deep, ignoring the squishing feel as she applied pressure and stood up, him draped over her shoulder. She could already tell this was going to be an agonizing journey, as he was heavier than her. She took a deep breath, trying to absorb as much strength as she could from Makutsi’s rain to help her with her journey.
And then she walked out of camp, heading eastward. Sootay walked in silence next to her. She had her husband on her shoulder, her cloak around her naked form, and her knife tucked into the pocket of the cloak and nothing more. With every step she took, she prayed to Makutsi. With every burning breath of strain, she dedicated the effort to Makutsi. Every time she fell under the weight of her husband, she dug deep, knowing Makutsi knew she had the strength for this journey, and she got herself back up.
And she walked for four days, taking shelter at night. She laid next to her husband, just as she would while he was alive, to protect him from anything that might try to take him. She ignored the smell, knew it was simply part of life and death, knew that it didn’t make him any less of the amazing man who fearlessly fought several tsana and died, the same man who was scared to death to ask her to join him in marriage. He was perfect, now and forever.
On the fifth day of walking, Kopesha knew her water bladder, the one unique to Chaktawe, was empty. She needed to reach her destination soon or she would die of dehydration. She was already hungry, growing weaker, traveling less distance each day. But still, she followed the sun’s rise. On the sixth day, the world was growing hazy and she barely had the strength to move. It took her nearly an hour to heave her husband onto her shoulder, and she fell down in the sand more times than she could count. At the top of a dune, she fell, and she couldn’t get back up. She just laid there in the battering sun, heaving atop her husband, unable to cry from dehydration. Her mouth was sandpaper, her insides were burning and she couldn’t see straight. Overhead, she saw one, or maybe fifteen buzzards. She couldn’t be sure, the world was spinning so much.
"You need to get up Peshi," said Sootay, nudging at her. "Please."
She cast her eyes forward, down the dune, when she saw a pond, surrounded by green reeds and some palm trees. This was it. She was going to die here, hallucinating like all those northern fools who thought they could handle this desert. She just didn’t have the strength to get back up. And she laid there, getting ready to die with her husband.
There was a squawk nearby, and she lifted her head, her eyelids drooping heavily. There was a buzzard a few feet away, starting to peck at the cloak wrapped feet of Chokaji. Kopesha tried to yell, her voice catching in her dried out throat. She slowly managed to get her arms beneath her, to lift her up. She reached into her cloak for her knife, her grip shaking as she swung it once at the bird, who was entirely unphased. She swung the knife again, dropping it, gasping “Go… away…”
The bird hopped closer, and moved to peck at her husband again. That was when a loud scree filled the air. A large crow soared down, flapping its wings at the buzzard, placing itself between Chokaji and the bird. It turned to look at Kopesha, a single eye on her, before turning back, driving the buzzard away. It was a sign, the most evident one. Kopesha knew it wasn’t just Makutsi looking over her. Brother Eywaat was watching always too. She said a small prayer of thanks to him, and picked up her knife, stowing it away. She rubbed at her eyes, looking back down the dune, seeing that the spring was still there. Gasping and croaking like a toad, “We’re almost there, Kaji. Just hold on, it will be a bit further.”
She managed to get herself upright. She no longer had the strength to carry him. So she picked up his feet, and began dragging him down the dune. Slowly, agonizingly, she pushed herself, using the last of her energy to get him to the spring. As she completed the trek down, she pulled him through the reeds until her feet felt mud. She kept pulling him, until she was waist deep in the spring and his body was floating atop the water. And there, she prayed to Makutsi, holding her husband’s cheek in her hand as she did.
Then it began to rain.
Kopesha looked all around her, seeing the raindrops splashing in the water, and there on the shore was the Rain Mother herself. Makutsi waved Kopesha over, who waded toward her, leaving Chokaji to float there in the spring. Standing before the goddess, Kopesha smiled, “Thank you.”
Makutsi reached out, removing Kopesha’s cloak from her shoulders, letting it fall into the reads, before clasping her on the arms, “No need to thank me, daughter mine. You have more than earned this, and more. This was not Chokaji’s journey. It was yours.”
Makutsi shrugged off her own cloak, matching Kopesha’s bareness. “Dance with me, Kopesha.” The pair began to dance, as Sootay watched, filled with pride and awe, much to Kopesha’s own surprise. While she had always enjoyed dancing around the fires of her tribes, she had never been particularly talented at it. Yet Makutsi taught her a dance that was intimate, difficult, much like the journey to bring her husband here. The way their bodies moved told the story of Kopesha’s life up until this very moment, and that was when the dance ended.
And with it, the rain intensified ten fold. There was no thunder, no blistering winds, simply a deluge of lifegiving rain. Makutsi directed Kopesha’s attention to Chokaji. As the rains washed over him, Kopesha could see that his body was turning to water and fading into the spring. She watched for several long minutes until he washed away completely. “His death will bring continued life for countless more, as all deaths do.”
Kopesha turned back toward Makutsi, “You are a Raindancer now. You will bring life and death to this world. This was only the first step in your journey, it is time for you to keep going.”
Kopesha smiled, casting her face to the heavy rains falling upon her, “Yes, Rain Mother. I will. For now and always.”
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Currently, she's a novice in Hunting!"