The first rays of dawn sliced through the violet sky with rays of amber, creating a gradient of warm hues that splashed across the sky in an instant. The dwindling light of the stars above flickered out one by one while the grazing Ngarlak raised their heads to the warmth of a new day. Their powerful jaws ripped through the dry grass of the Moodja like butter. The sun struck the Ansharin Oasis, blanketing the horizon in a mirage of sparkling lights. The sight was truly a marvelous one to behold; though no Ansharin would pay attention to it on this morning. This morning marked the last day of the dry season, which meant the ending of another Cycle. There was work to be done all across the oasis, the embers of last nights fire smoldering away inside the fire pit in front of the Elder's hut while the busy Ansharin moved about in preparation for the feast. Tonight would not just be any celebration of a new cycle though. Tonight was a special night that marked the passing of another one hundred cycles. Children worked eagerly with the farmers to harvest delicious crops, dancers applied body paint expertly in preparation for a restless night of merry performances, and the hunting parties prepared themselves for a big haul of delicious, succulent meat that would surely please every man, woman and child in the tribe.

The excitement surrounding today was too much for the eager young Kwenda, who had been awake well and truly before dawn. The young man had already readied his spear and begun his morning patrols. Even in the early morning, the soil beneath his feet was scorching hot. If he hadn't spent his life walking around the Moodja, then he would perhaps have been disturbed by the heat. His amber eyes darted from side to side, keeping a look out for anything out of the ordinary. The herd of wild Yakkuls trampled through the plains, the horse like beasts blaring their ferocious horns at anything stupid enough to get in there way. The smaller herd would be coming through soon as well, which Kwenda assumed would be the target of the hunters. The Yakkuls would be hibernating for the wet seasons, so today would be the tribes last chance to enjoy them. Other than the occasional Bubukari soaring up above, looking for food, there wasn't really anything worth mentioning. The Ngarlak rested by the oasis, Durabu's swam lethargically in the waters and the creatures that Kwenda was named for, small marsupials with large, beady eyes, scurried across the plains in the blink of an eye. A quiet day to end the Cycle; Kwenda wouldn't want it any other way.

Though it seemed he had resolved himself to an uneventful morning too soon. As he began his trek back to the tribe, he felt a strange, leathery substance underneath his foot. Looking down, he originally thought that someone had dropped a piece of hide. Not wanting to just let it go to waste, Kwenda picked it up only to find that what he held was not just a scrap of leather. The leather encased what felt to be a sturdy wooden box. He slowly turned over the cover of the journal, peeking inside to see many dirt stained pages scrawled over in black ink similar to his tattoos. He couldn't understand what was written, or what it was supposed to be, but it was definitely interesting. He tucked the journal into the leather strap around his waist, covering it with his pelts. If the elders saw him with such an item, they'd definitely confiscate it. He wanted the chance to go through his discovery before giving it up. With an excited grin, Kwenda sprinted across the plains as fast as his young legs would carry him. At his pace, it wouldn't be long before he reached the oasis as the hunting party prepared to leave.

---

Tobu ran. Using the tooth of the battlement as a stepping-stone, he launched himself at Daku. Blade arcing, he landed in Water Upon the Rocks, an attack
from above. Bone clanged upon bone, and his muscles strained against his master’s parry.

Daku’s thin lips curved into a smile, making his peppered beard rustle. “Keep that up and you’ll have my title before long.”

Eyeing him through the mesh of their blades, Tobu smirked. “It’s all yours.”

Immediately, he realized his mistake, but it was too late. His pressure waned as his concentration slipped. Daku’s heavy biceps flexed. Tobu was blown back as if by a gust of wind, feet scraping along the desert floor. He threw a dusty foot to the ground in a Low Moon stance, his knees bent and back straight. At the same time, he tossed a hand to the same red sands . His palms scraped the stone and dust as he skidded to a halt. He looked up, only to find Daku's blade hurtling towards his face. Pressing against the ground, he vaulted backwards, diving beneath the blade’s tip. Landing on the balls of his feet, he peered through his
brown hair.

Daku rose to his full, impressive height. Despite the chill in the air, the man was bare- chested, wearing only his traditional leather belt adorned with pelts and feathers. His frame was tanned dark from the unforgiving sun. A long scar ran diagonally across his chest. A few more white lines marred his shoulders and arms. There was not a scrap of fat on him. Lit by the dawning sun, Daku stood in High Moon. His back leg was heavily bent, holding the majority of his weight, while his front foot rested lightly upon the ground. It was a stance most could learn, but few could ever master.

Tobu rose. “You tricked me.”

Daku broke High Moon. Hands clasping his head, hr began to lounge. “Don’t listen to me then, or,
better yet, don’t talk back. Besides, you should know my tools by now—tools which a Akit'r should always have at his disposal.”

He scoffed. “Tools? They are clearly tricks and you know it.” His palms stung and he saw peeled callouses, raw and pink, like a shaved beet. “And why do I always seem to get hurt around you?”

Daku shrugged innocently. “Not sure, I don’t get hurt.”

There was a subtle shift in the air, and Tobu focused, becoming acutely aware of his surroundings. Sharpening his senses at will was a skill of the Akit'r,
harnessed over years of intense training. Brushing the dirt from his black tunic, he regained his balance and raised his blade. But Daku was looking away,
gazing over the beautiful desert and the bustling of thier people. Something weighed heavily on his master’s features. There were shadows in the man’s eyes.

“Is it true?” he asked.

“Rumors are rumors, Daku. Besides, you should not concern yourself with it. As Akit'r, we hunt.”

“You’re avoiding the question. I want to know, is it true they are back?" Tobu countered

“Say their name. Only a fool fears a name.”

“I can’t...”

“Then I’ll say it for you.”

“Don’t—”

“Ronin,” Daku said, interrupting him.

Tobu’s breath caught. His father, mother, two brothers and sisters, cousins, and his grandmother made up the Ronin, the most revered Akit'r and hunters known. They had been gone for weeks, apparently hunting a beast that had been terrorising the tribe for months.

“Wake up!” Daku bellowed, and he was glad to see the years had shed from masters face. Daku's stance switched from High Moon to Low Moon, one leg sweeping back. Tobu saw his opening, but kept his face blank.

“So are you going to sight-see, or for once are you going to actually hit...”

He didn’t let Daku finish and charged with a fierce cry, blade raised for Heron in the Reeds. Daku smiled as if he were waiting for it, blade flickering into Full
Moon, covering his head. In the last moment, Tobu gathered his meager power. Daku's blade appeared from nowhere, but he rolled beneath it, teeth clenched. As he landed, he twisted. Fisher in the Shallows. He lashed at Daku’s legs, ready to retract the blow in victory. Daku had lost. Elation lanced through him. Abruptly, his master smirked and his hand smacked a hidden block of stone.

Still moving, Tobu hit the ground. Instinctively, he tucked and rolled on the hard dirt. "Are you kidding me!" he bellowed dragging himself up to dust his furs. Daku cackled, placing his Guraka back in it sleuth. "I said tools all Akit'r should have. he mocked, turning away from Tobu. Go get ready for the hunt."

Tobu grumbled angrily as he walked away. His master always did things like that. If he was any slower, that stone would have sent him two weeks back. Tobu headed for the oasis, squeezing past the crowds worked in preparation for the ending of another Cycle. Grabbing a bow and quiver on his way there, he met with the hunting party. It was a special treat to have an Akit'r in training join them for a hunt, but Tobu paid no attention. He was all to used to it.

With a sigh, and small talk being made, Tobu went about cleaning his Guraka, and his hand.

Yala moved her brush over the dark skin in front of her, leaving a broad yellow line in it's wake. It curled around the shoulder and down under the clavicle until it met it's twin in the center of hunter's chest. Similar lines already covered his arms and legs. She dipped another tool into the paint – a small bone that had been flattened at the tip – and began doting white paint between the lines she had finished. As she painted, the chanting of the other men and women filled her ears as they performed similar work. Yala sang with them, but slightly quieter so that the other voices drowned her out. Truthfully, it was not one of her strongest skills.

She had been up before the sun this morning, which was not a habit for her but the importance of today's celebration more than warranted it. The sky had begun to brighten as Yala and four other young ones gathered water and brought it to the central fireplace, outside the elders' hut. It didn't take long to mix the paint; the ochres and clay powders had been prepared over the last several days. All that needed to be done was mix it with water and animal fat, and the paint would remain on the skin for most of the day. As the sun crested the horizon, they started singing. With the light, the village awoke. Most of the hunters were already awake and gathered nearby preparing for the hunt, but now all the Ansharin were about their days' business.

Yala stood back slightly and took in her work. The design was relatively simple, more would be added for the feast after the days hunt. But for now, the man was covered in a framework of lines that represented the boundaries of oasis and the surrounding hunting grounds. Later she would fill in details from today's and previous hunts. Yala bowed her head in respect to the elder man and moved to the next hunter who had just arrived.

'Oh' She thought, as she looked to where she thought his face would be. And as it turned out, wasn't.

Yala had not seen who the new arrival was. Which was ironic, as he was fairly hard to mistake. Without breaking the song though - it would continue until the hunting party left - Yala coated her brush in yellow paint again and set about following the lines that littered the young Akit'r's skin. Painting Tobu was always easy. Her brow soon furrowed in annoyance though. It was not past the first hour of sunlight, and the young man was already covered in sweat and dust. Normally, she would not have noticed, but this was probably going to affect how well the paint stuck to his skin. Yala's own painted skin - decorated by the others with patterns of arched white lines that layered over each other, like the scales of certain beasts out in the Dreamscape - would last until well after the feast but she doubted his would last 'till he returned to the village. She gave him a look of slight judgement as she brushed off what she could from the arm she was painting.

Jarrah stood with his arms crossed, watching over the village as the sun rose over the horizon. Another Cycle gone, another start for the Ansharin. For the farmers, it was a chance to see if the harvest could bring in a better yield than Cycles prior. For some of the more competitive hunters, it would mark a new beginning for the tallies he knew some of them kept. But for himself and Jannali, it meant nothing beyond the sentiment of a new Cycle. Healers were always needed, their roles independent of the passing of time or seasons.

Jannali emerged from the hut, stretching her arms as she awoke. With a yawn, she asked, "If the Kodonji plant numbs pain when eaten, father, why does it also put me to sleep like it did last night?"

Jarrah laughed. "Is that what you dream of, Jannali? The differing effects of the Kodonji plant?"

Jannali shrunk, embarrassed that those were her first words of the day.

"The Kodonji leaves numb pain, but mix them with the Arokko leaves in water and they are excellent at relaxing the body and inducing sleep," Jarrah answered, smiling down at his daughter. "Do you know what today is, little one?"

Jannali took a moment to respond. The Arokko leaves were also used as blood thinners if one was to find themselves poisoned, though she assumed the Kodonji mixture nullified that effect. She set that thought aside, returning her thoughts to her father's question. "The final day of the Cycle, isn't it? And it's also another centennial. That's why mother is already out of the hut. She's going on an earlier hunt than usual to prepare for the celebration."

"That's right. Not everybody gets to experience the centennial Cycle. It's a special day, and we have our own work to be doing, as well."

"What's that?"

"The celebrations might prove to be too much for some of the villagers to handle. We should have remedies prepared, just in case."

Jannali was confused. "What's the worst that could happen? Isn't it just a feast and a dance, tonight?"

Jarrah nodded. "Exactly. Do you remember what happened the last time your mother brought back a Yakkul and you had too much to eat?"

Jannali blushed. She remembered having a terrible stomach ache and throwing up shortly after.

"And that's why we need to be ready. The hunters will want to bring back as many Yakkuls as they can, so we should prepare. Just in case. And besides, sometimes the dancers fall and hurt themselves, or young ones get into a fight. When the entire village is celebrating a moment such as this, anything could happen, and the elders might call upon us to assist," Jarrah explained, as he began to walk away. "I'm going to be gathering the herbs we need in the area to the south. I've heard the Manalo plant is growing throughout the village, so try to collect as many leaves as possible."

Jannali nodded; the Manalo leaves cured the stomachaches she had fallen victim to. She took a moment to gather herself and look upon the village, as her father had. She spied the short, spiny Manalo plant just in the distance, by the painters and hunters preparing for the celebrations that evening. With one last stretch to wake herself up, Jannali headed in that direction, checking to make sure her pouch had ample room to hold the leaves she would need.

The sun was just peeking out from beneath its bed of dunes when Koa finally arose. She lay still in her bed of furs and pelts, staring up at the thatched ceiling above her with a somber expression. Today was the day. The end of another cycle. It was hard to imagine how swift the day had come when the last festival's events seemed so fresh in her mind. The dancing, the laughing, the eating; it was still a wonder how swift the days blended into nights. But now, here it was again, which meant anticipation for the night, but work for the morning.

Koa groaned as she sat up. Load cracks sounded as she twisted her back, stretching the exhaustion out of her limbs. It was tempting to stay in bed, returning to the world of sleep. She quickly vanquished the thought. It would do her no good to just lay about in bed. There was too much to prepare. There was the morning's hunt, of course, to gather the last of the Yakkuls before they hid into their dens. Then there was the dance. There was great honor in being chosen to perform, and Koa could feel the pressure of it weighing heavily on her chest. What-ifs circled around her mind like scavengers around a dying meal, but she quickly shooed them away. It may have been her first time, but that was no reason to panic. She knew what to do. She knew that she had been chosen for a reason. Despite the doubt, Koa's excitement barely wavered. If anything, her restlessness seemed to grow.

Grabbing her bow and hunting knife, Koa headed outside. A warm, amber sky greeted her, the sun turning the already warm sand even hotter. The village was beginning to awaken, with chatter filling voids of silence and people dashing to and fro. Koa smiled softly, letting the warmth of the rising sun warm her face as she took in the sights. As odd as it sounded, it was comforting to see that, despite the years, the hustle and bustle of the village never seemed to change. With a satisfied nod, Koa slung her bow over her shoulder and set off.

She slowed as she reached the hunting party, pausing near the painter. Koa noted the paint on the other hunter's, the designs intricate and detailed. She was impressed, to say the least, and bowed her head slight in greeting as it came her turn. Koa's gaze shifted to the side,a towering form catching her eye. An Akit'r? She knew of the legendary hunters. Who didn't? They were said to have the speed of a demon and just as much strength. They were dangerous as they were skilled. Then again, those were just from the mouth of gossipers. Koa narrowed her eyes, looking the man up and down. A spark of a challenge glowed in her eyes. It was time to see if legends were real.

It was a new day but it was all the same to Nortooga. No matter what that day represented or the festivities held during that day. In the end it was just a time counter to their certain end that most of the time people masked with celebrations. And everyday he woke up he thought about his end, that he should have died there with them. Well that's one way to start the day.

As he got ready getting dressed, wrapping one white piece of cloth to cover his neck and right arm and the other covering his left arm, he proceeded to check his weapon for any broken bones. The weapon being a deadly snake-like creature's vertebrae it was prone to wearing out one day leading to the whole weapon breaking into pieces. Now ready to start the day with weapon in hand he got out to feel the warmth of the first sun rays of daylight.

Most were getting ready for the morning hunt as the women of the tribe painted on the hunter's bodies with different patterns but all were the same theme. His turn came and the girl started marking him with the usual painting theme while singing the ritualistic song. As she came to paint his face Nortooga closed his amber eye not from fear of paint, he feared that she would deviate from the usual draw pattern and use shapes and symbols that adorned the WALINKOI's body and feathers as this eye had a direct connection to the beast who was a known mesmerizer and hypnotizer. This fear wasn't only based on speculations as it had happened once before during his first hunt on the last day of a cycle.

The girl finally finished painting the left side of his face and Nortooga went to join the rest of his hunting group.

As each of the individuals in the Ansharin tribe hurried along the hot desert sand below their feets, each focusing on their specific task for the upcoming celebration of ending and birth of another Circle. Most of them had been up before the break of dawn in order to help the whole tribe in the important preparations for the upcoming ceremony later on in the day.
Alkina had also been up before the break of dawn, although for her it wasn’t in order to take part in any of the preparations that the other tribesmen were currently doing. No, for her it was because she herself needed to get ready for the ceremony: she had been painted by one of the chosen elders, her garments had been washed and cleaned in Khali-water to give it a fresh fragrance and her hair had been artfully styled with various accessories and put in a ceremonious style. All in order for her to appear as one of the jewels of the ceremony that was going to be celebrated by the entire tribe later on in the day.

To be honest Alkina didn’t enjoy any of this. She had been woken up way too early for her own liking in order to be ‘presentable’ for the ceremony - however, what annoyed her the most about this was that now that she had been made presentable she had nothing else to do. It had only taken half of the day for the elders and the chosen ones to wash her skin and clothing, cover her white skin in dark markings and do her hair. She didn’t need to prepare anything else as she was seen as frail by the elders who as always had everything taken care for her: all she had to do for this important ceremony was to look presentable and to fulfil her role as a Dreamweaver: she had to present a dance of the dream and mesmerize the tribe with one of her songs - all of which she had practiced for many moon-phases and knew by heart.
This meant that for now she really had nothing to do - which was always something she hated.

She had been positioned underneath a temporary open tent that shaded her from the strong sun on the outskirts of the main area. If she had been able to use the ability of sight she would have the perfect observation point for looking at all the preparations that were being made for the upcoming ceremony - however, Alkina’s eyes had been covered in a piece of white clothing that were elegantly wrapped around her eyes. While she had been told that it was more of a stylish decision to cover her eyes, she had a feeling it was to shield the world from her alien opaque eyes that would stand out too much against the amber colors of the other tribesmen.

Alkina sighed to herself. It was inevitable that some couldn’t fully accept her, after all she was different than the others in the tribe so of course someone of the individuals in the tribe would look at her with suspicion and as a bad omen.
However, Alkina had long since learned not to think of this too much. Did it annoy her? Yes, it would for everyone, but she had realised that she couldn’t do anything about it and what point was there then to worry about it?
Instead she enjoyed the peace and quiet she experienced at that point in time and while she couldn’t technically see what happened around her, she could feel it. She could feel how the men and women a few stone throws away was painting the rest of the tribe in turns and how the air moved and got distorted by the vibrations of their collected song - despite the different skills and vocal power of the individual singers.
She could feel the hunters a bit further away move in a fashion that could only mean that a hunt was soon to begin, while others ran across the warm sand beneath their feet.

Alkina let out another almost silent sigh. How she dreamed of the day that she could be free like the others in the tribe. While some of them looked at her with jealousy-filled eyes as she didn’t have to do any of the tough chores, she herself craved the freedom to experience the world around her.
“Oh well,” she muttered under her own breath, almost silently so no one would notice. “Like that would ever happen…”

The short run back to the oasis was one Kwenda had spent his whole life growing accustom to. While the initial rush of the desert disappearing beneath his feet had entranced him at a younger age, he had found himself growing quite bored with the sensation. Though that wasn't the case today. His discovery of the strange journey had ignited a spark in his heart, and his feet flew with more ambition and excitement than he had felt in a long time. The grazing Ngarlak's paid no mind to him as he dashed through the herd, using it as a shortcut so that he would be able to avoid the elder's hut. Weaving his way through the crowd of vibrant people, all eagerly preparing for the celebrations tonight, Kwelek made his way to the hunters where he hoped to find Jannali.

As expected, the healers daughter was approaching the hunters as they applied paints before heading out. Kwelek was not the brightest person, and he couldn't make out what his discovery was. He figured that he might as well ask someone he considered to be quite intelligent; so Jannali it was. Quickly moving to intercept her, Kwelek gently nudged the ladies shoulder with the back of his hand.
"Hey, Jannali. Do you have a moment?" Kwelek clasped his hands together, begging in quite a childish fashion. Before Jannali could respond, Kwelek removed the journal from his pelts. "I found something while out in the Moodja today. It's a secret, but I know I can trust you."

Kwelek was about to continue to sing praises about how reliable and kind Jannali was, trying to sweeten the deal, when he suddenly realised where he was. He averted his gaze from Jannali and stared at the painters who were only inches away from them. Thankfully most of them looked as though they hadn't heard him, though directly next to Kwelek he saw Yala applying paints to Tobu; a member of the Akit'r. There was no way the two of them hadn't overheard him. He hadn't been exactly subtle about the whole thing. Awkwardly trying to hide his little treasure behind his back, Kwelek stuttered out an explanation.
"Uh, I... It's nothing really. Just a dumb thing. S-sorry for disturbing you." He hoped that they wouldn't go and tell the elders of his find. They weren't particularly hard on the tribesmen about such things, but they did prefer any unique finds to be brought to them first in case it could be of potential danger to the tribe. Kwelek had planned to do that; after he had had a chance to examine his find himself.

| @Leslie Hall | @Fubsy | @Space Boyfriend | @fluorescent |

---

Tobu lost himself in thought. Time flowed like cement as his mind wandered on subjects that he dare not speak of out loud. He found Yala, the dark skinned Ansharin woman who painted him beautiful. In truth, he found many Ansharin woman beautiful, but it seemed that his Akit'r status distracted him from trying to approach any. By no means was Tobu afraid, or nervous, in fact, Tobu was very comfortable around woman, it was the other way around in fact. Many Ansharin woman, just like men, revered the Akit'r, his mere presence made it difficult for them to speak with him. Tobu tried to change it, but it was difficult when such a last name was attached to his soul.

Smiling at Yala, he attempted to make her feel comfortable, although she seemed just so, even giving him judgmental looks, which he returned with knowing looks of his own. He was apologetic, but would rather not have interrupted her song. Closing his eyes, he allowed the sound of her music to carry him away, and focused of the feeling of the brush tickling his skin.

Despite the fact that the world was now black under his eyelids, he could still feel the piercing gaze of another. And he could hear clearly the whispering words of all those around him, a curse and a blessing. Tobu lifted his dreads up off his back so Yala could easily paint it, but his mind wandered. Almost instantly, the words of Kwelek spurred him out of his dreamlike state.

Slowly opening his eyes, which held wisdom beyond thier years, he gazed at Kwelek and Jannali. For a few seconds, he presence became ominous, it was as if a thick blanket settled upon them all. But as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, replaced with a light, airy atmosphere and a smile.

"A secret can't be something so easily lost to you, can it Kwelek? Jannali? What's so special about this journal?" he called, looked between the two. He was excited to find something to do besides get painted and wait in anticipation for the hunt.

@Leslie Hall@LokiLeo789@Space Boyfriend

As Jannali looked for the Manalo plants, she watched Yala carefully apply paint to Tobu's skin out of the corner of her eye. She caught Tobu sending a few awkward smiles towards Yala. Tobu seemed to think his status as an Akit'r kept others from wanting to socialize with him, but Jannali was of the opinion that it was Tobu's arrogance and ego kept him from really connecting with others in the tribe. Not that she was any better; her meekness didn't do her any favors when it came to socializing.

Jannali jumped as Kwelek nudged her shoulder for her attention; it was a gentle nudge, but she had been so lost in her own thoughts as she prepared for the day. It took her a moment to catch up to the young man's hasty words, but the journal he had caught her eye and brought her up to speed immediately. She opened her mouth to speak, when Kwelek withdrew the journal, realizing his mistake in showing the journal out in the open and so close to the rest of the tribe. She grinned, knowing his hastiness and eagerness got the better of him yet again.

"That could be anything judging from the cover, Kwelek. Let me see it," Jannali snatched the journal from Kwelek's hand as he meekly hid it from Tobu and Yala. She flipped through the pages, looking for any hint as to its origins. The words meant nothing to her, but they reminded her of something she had seen the elders discussing once. "This is... old. I couldn't tell you more, unfortunately. None of it makes any sense to me," Jannali trailed off weakly. She looked at the journal intently as she considered what should be done with it.

Only one option made any sense. "We have to take this to the elders, Kwelek. I've heard them talking about something like this before, and they would know what to do with it." In hindsight, Jannali would have preferred Kwelek take the journal to them immediately, but it wasn't worth bringing that up now. What was done was done. They weren't likely to be upset, but Jannali couldn't help but fear the backlash when the elders discovered that Kwelek hadn't immediately brought the journal to them.

---

Yala had circled around to paint Tobu's back, he kindly moved his long hair out of her way, when Kwelek's arrival drew her attention to himself and Jannali. With so many others bustling around the gathering party, the young healer in training had quietly approached without her noticing. Yala glanced with an amused smile at the two young ones at the mention of a secret. Her eyes narrowed briefly at Kwelek's quick attempt at backtracking, however the look of suspicion was soon replaced with interest.

She watched curiously as Jannali took the bundle and opened it up. At first it had looked like an oddly wrapped collection of pelts but it was obvious that wasn't the case. Thin, slightly yellowed material splayed outward, as thin as leaves and every one of them covered in small dark scratches. Yala's voice faltered as her attention focused on the object. Many a bizarre and unique thing can be found in the Moodja, but she had never seen something like this brought back from the desert. The scratches were most peculiar. Almost like a small bird had stepped in soot and skittered about on it. 'Or someone's attempt at painting, prehaps?' Looking again, Yala thought she could make out some markings that resembled figures, but on the whole it was indecipherable. Whoever had created these would certainly need more practice if that was the case.

She wanted to reach out and take a closer look - and she might've done - but at that moment the voices surrounding the party seemed to swell in song and Yala realised the painting ceremony was winding down. Soon the Cycle's last hunt would begin.

She quickly put the last touches of paint between Tobu's shoulder blades and circled back around. She passed between him and the hunter Koa on their right, who had seemed to be sizing Tobu up quite a bit a moment ago, and placed her brush back it's bowl of pain. Facing the large Akit'r again, she bowed her head politely.

As he joined the group they were all excited about the festival that night. They switched from jokes to plans for tonight, to the woman of the tribe to the preparations for the hunt and so on back and forth among other things. Finally as they were making the final arrangements for the hunt they noticed some members of the hunting group weren't there so they sent the youngest hunter to fetch them. At this point Nortooga interfered saying he would bring them. All the chatting amongst the dry weather had made him thirsty. He hadn't noticed until then, even his skin had begun to dry up so he took the opportunity to refreshen while passing the message along the way.

He took leave from the hunting party and approached the group of 4 tribesmen gathered and concentrated on their discussion. As he approached them he noticed an object in Jannali's hand. He finally spoke getting their attention :"Hunt is about to start soon. Go join the hunting party"

It wasn't the furtive whispers that drew Koa's attention--those were lost in the excited murmurs of the hunting party--but the sudden vanishing of several others that caught her eye. She searched the crowd, suddenly aware of the presence in her group. Or rather, lack of presence. One of the painters was gone and, curiously enough, the Akit'r as well. Annoyance mingled with anticipation inside her, increasing as the time of the hunt drew nearer and nearer. It wouldn't be long until they set off now. Where were they?

One of the hunters, a curious looking man that Koa narrowed her eyes at with unease, offered to go search for them before darting off. Koa paced and clenched her bow, restlessness already getting to her. The painters' song was beginning to wane, as was the young huntress' patience. Not even a minute passed before, with a grumble, Koa went off the fetch them herself.

They were found easily enough, sitting by a gathering of plants. There were five of them grouped around, the hunter that departed moments prior included. In the center of them all was strange...thing. That was all Koa could think to describe it. Some thing with pale, fragile leaves tattooed in black. What it was, she didn't know, but the air of mystery it seemed to carry was enough to momentarily steal away Koa's words. She shook her head and blinked hard, forcing her curious eyes away from it, though they traitorously flickered back once or twice.

"Hey," she called roughly, crossing her arms, "are we just going to stand here and wait for it to rain Yakkuls, or are we gonna go out there and hunt?"

Kwelek began stuttering more excuses to Yala and Tobu, not making a modicum of sense. Too busy babbling, he didn't even have a chance to react when the young healer took the opportunity to swipe the journal away from him. He shot an uneasy glare at Jannali, hoping she'd be careful with his little treasure. He did his best to remain composed, but when she mentioned handing it over to the elders he instinctively reached out to try and grab it back from her. His grasp swiped the air, just barely missing the journal while he pleaded with his friend.
"Don't worry I intend to give it to them." he began, turning his gaze away from the group with a mischievous smile plastered across his face. "After I got to have a good look at it, of coarse. I was gonna hide it for a few days and then pretend to find it on one of my next patrols." He felt a little self conscious, outright expressing his intentions to pull a fast one on the elders just so he could satiate his curiosity. No doubt the others would find such actions morally reprehensible.

When Tobu spoke up in such a cheery tone, Kwelek stared at him in surprise for a few moments before answering him.
"I never get to find interesting stuff while out in the Moodja. All I do is play with the Kwenda. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun with this treasure before handing it over." Though she hadn't said anything, Kwelek was also aware that Yala was invested in this conversation. Her silence was slightly disturbing to the young man. Was she planning to scold him for his selfishness? Perhaps maybe she was also as interested in the journal as Tobu? Having both Yala and Tobu on his side might have been enough to convince Jannali to let him investigate the journal some more.

The group of Ansharin seemed to have gathered more attention than Kwelek desired as both Nortooga and Koa approached them. The two hunters questioned why they weren't with the others preparing themselves for the hunt. Though through their seriousness, Kwelek couldn't hope but notice Koa's gaze shifting to the journal.
"Every hunter in the tribe is out there today and it's a smaller herd of Yakkul than usual. Why don't we all just take a moment to look through this journal and then you guys can join the hunt? It won't take long." Kwelek really hoped none of them would run and tattle on him, especially Jannali. She was kind, but her respect for the elders was clear. They all felt the same way, but Kwelek had grown tired of the monotony. Day in and day out, life in the tribe as a scout was never much worth mentioning. It might have been selfish, but Kwelek didn't see anything wrong with being a little self centered now and again.

Before he could become too wrapped up in his train of thought, Kwelek spotted two elders exit their hut and begin walking closer. Alarm resonating on his face, he quickly turned to the others.
"We've gotta move. If they catch us here and not getting ready for the hunt we'll be trapped for two more cycles listening to their lectures." Fortunately the two seemed too engrossed in their conversation to pay mind to the small gathering of young Ansharin by the bushes. However, they would surely be noticed if they did not move. Grabbing the journal, Kwelek quickly shuffled out of sight from the elders and hid behind a tent, unaware of the fact that Alkina was right on the other side of the cloth.

Jannali's instinctively shook her head in disgust. Of course Kwelek was going to try to keep it for a few days. But she caught herself, as her mind began to bounce around differing opinions. She dropped into a sort of trance, reasoning the situation out in her head as Kwelek addressed the group that was quickly forming around them. Her years of obeying the elders' words and adhering to the beliefs of the tribe were causing her to feel disappointment in Kwelek and his plans. He should have given it to the elders immediately, and that Jannali stood there without running straight to them made her uncomfortable.

But on the other hand... who knew what this could mean? She, too, wanted to study Kwelek's finding in an attempt to discover the secrets that were held within. Not that she could, since she wouldn't be able to decipher its mysteries without further knowledge, but wasn't that the whole point? To learn as much as she could before the opportunity was taken away from her? Jannali sighed, conflicted in her opinions.

As she reemerged into the real world, Kwelek snatched the journal out of Jannali's hands and bolted for the nearest tent, ducking behind it for cover. Dazed, Jannali looked around, regaining her bearings and grasping what was going on. She spotted the source of Kwelek's panic - the elders were leaving their hut and approaching them slowly. Jannali blushed, turning away and walking quickly after Kwelek, becoming more and more obsessed with the journal with every passing moment.

---

As they'd been talking, the people around them had slowly drifted away as they finished their business here, leaving their now less than discrete group standing where there were. Yala had stopped singing by this point and she felt a little out of breath. She had enough to let out a sigh though as Kwelek told his plan of keeping his discovery for a while. Of course he would. Why miss such a good opportunity to cause trouble for oneself? The disapproval was evident on her face, especially at the remark about the Elders.

"That's not funny Kwen-" She started but cut off her own words as Kwelek abruptly darted into the cover of the nearby bushes. He did have a point though; any more time spent in such a large group by themselves and they were bound to draw attention. And while a few days was a bit too long to wait to hand in the object, perhaps it was better to give it to the Elders later, when it was more convenient and less likely to cause a disruption to the day's events.

Her work with the hunters was finished and she had time before she had to attend to anything else so Yala decided she would accompany them to make sure that they did hand it in eventually. Besides, she justified to herself, if they could figure out what the thing was, the Elders might not consider it an issue. Yala was fairly sure she had been on poor footing with them as of late, so it would be nice to avoid causing further offense. She looked around at the remaining three, unsure of what to say. For a lack of better people skills, she quickly settled on an awkward "Excuse me," before following after the two younger ones.

Alkina used the time she had at hand to survey the world around her: how the different individuals of the tribe each contributed to the preparations of the upcoming festivities in each of their own way. Luckily, because of her disability she didn’t have to worry about getting caught stalking those around her - though it did limit how far she could sense what happened and the clarity of what happened, though it was still better than being ‘completely’ blind, she supposed. If anyone looked in her direction they would see nothing but the alien-looking girl that had been part of their tribe for the past 17 cycles, with her white features covered in fine materials. Furthermore, Alkina had quickly learned that her misty eyes could easily scare the children of the tribe and some of the more superstitious adults, which was why she had them covered in her ceremonial piece that not only hid away where her attention was focused, but also made those around her more at ease.

It was in this moment when Alkina was enjoying sensing a group of small children playing a few strides away from her tent that she was interrupted by two of the Elders in the tribe. She sensed their approach before they made their presence noticed by the usual vocal noise that she had heard too many times over the course of her lifetime.

“Alkina,” one of them began after clearing his throat to make her notice him, “I hope you are ready for the ceremony later - we expect quite a show in honor of the Dream and the End of the current cycle”

Alkina slowly rolled her eyes - and she was actually glad that she had covered her own eyes so that they wouldn’t notice this impatient gesture. Of course they expected something. It was always like that: throughout her life she hadn’t been able to - nor allowed to take part of any of the regular choirs in the tribe, instead she had been treated like glass: handled with the utmost care and protection as she was special.

“Of course Elders,” she responded with her usual calm and enchanting voice, “I have prepared a special show in honor of this great day - you have nothing to worry about, it will be worthy of The Dream”

A gentle smile sprawled across her face as to reassure the Elders in front of her that she was both happy and honored to participate in the upcoming ceremony. However, if she could be granted one single wish it would be to allow her the freedom of those other young in the tribe. Oh how she yearned to hunt, to run, to celebrate life. Instead she was trapped inside this small tent, essentially a prisoner in her own tribe.

“We are happy to hear that,” the Elder said with a tone that was smeared in happiness and escaped a large smile that even Alkina could sense. “All of the Elders are looking forward to your presentation later - now, rest until then, we sadly have to go attend other matters”

Alkina simply smiled and nodded her head in acceptance before the Elders made their way out of the tent. Finally, when they had gotten far enough away so that she was certain they wouldn’t notice, she let out a small sigh.
Oh how she wished to escape this place…

However, instead of jumping head first into another one of her usual sessions of unhappiness and unreal fantasies, she focused her mind on what happened around her. Stretching her senses to try and catch as much of what happened near the small tent she was housed in - and just as she took another sip of the sweet juices of the Nuu’ka fruit that had been poured into a small clay cup, she noticed a sudden shuffling of feet close to her. She couldn’t recognize who these footsteps belonged to - mainly because they were muffled by the sand and because she hadn’t really been in close contact with too many of her fellow tribesmen other than the Elders. She began to focus her attention on what was going on as this behaviour seemed odd to her: why would a small group of the tribe hide behind this tent?

Koa hesitated, her gaze lingering on the device. The hunt was important, yes, and skipping it would grant very little chance of another invitation back next year. But still...what was that thing? Curiosity chewed at the corners of her mind, tempting to her to reach over and take a peek. It was a slab of letter with tattooed leaves inbetween. So why did she feel so compelled to open it? "I suppose a look can't hurt," she mumbled begrudgingly. She raised a finger sternly at Kwelek. "A quick look."

A bolt of surprise shook Koa as Kwelek darted away, the journal in his hands. She opened her mouth indignantly before movement caught her eye. The elders. A group were headed their way, though their attention was held by their closed conversation. She shot a nervous look in the direction Kwelek darted before looking back at the group. Something told her to tell them. To confess about the leather bundle. But as they neared, the thoughts disappeared. No...Kwelek was right. Telling them would cause too much trouble, especially for such an important event. It doesn't matter, she chided herself. Besides, this thing can't be that important, can it?

With a small shake of her head, Koa darted after the young boy. The back of the tent cast shade from the rising sun and hid them from the elders' gaze. She kept pace easily enough, though she cast the other around her uneasy looks. Why was she so paranoid? Surely this thing wasn't that important. "Alright, talk." She motioned towards the journal before crossing her arms. "What is this thing?"

As everybody else followed after Kwelek, Nortooga was the last one to go after then. He couldn't turn back without bringing THEM back with him. Hurriedly he followed them behind the tent as the elders grew nearer. Now as they had some privacy, hidden from the elders 's sight with no one nearby as all the tents were empty, everyone too occupied with preparations for the hunt and the festivities to come later this night, everyone was looking at Kwelek expectantly. Now that it came to his mind, not ALL the tents were empty. There was one particular individual in the tribe that was almost never seen out of her tent.

Rumours circulate from time to time, describing her flawless beauty beneath the moon, as her pale white skin reflects it's light taking the look of a heavenly creature, it's true colors shown only when it thinks it's out of sight from prying eyes. Same as some say this, others claim to be a snow skinned demon, chained by the elders for years and forced to perform rituals throughout the year, using its powers to to bring good luck and prosperity to the tribe. Some claim to have been there when the elders gouged her eyes out so that she was forced to stay in the tribe out of inability to take care of herself. But as anyone with enough brain knows, those are all bullshit, made up stories by people who seek attention. Still, the few times that Nortooga had laid eyes upon her slim delicate frame he had rather been entranced by her looks. It was really something unique and for all anyone knows she could be the only one in the world like that. Her dance was unique in its own also, as every dance is unique for each person expressesess in a different way. Her dancing was graceful and refined, many people waiting for months on end just to see her dance. Everybody enjoys her performance as it is done only for rare occasions.

Back to the main point, the tent in which they were hiding behind was supposed to be the white girl's tent if Nortooga remembered correctly. But he quickly dismissed the fact as 1. they were going to whisper and it's not like she had super hearing or anything and 2. even if she hears anything, no harm done since they will tell the elders about this themselves after Kwelek loses interest in this object which even he has no clue of what it is.

The others were quick to gather near Alkina's tent, which surprised Kwelek. He was sure that one of them would have tattled on him to the approaching elders. Yet he looked around to find that everyone was huddled around Kwelek and the journal, as if expecting him to say something. The silence lingered for a moment too long before the young Ansharin realised he couldn't wait forever. Brushing off the dirt from the front of the journal, he began flipping through pages with an expression of pure wonder. He beamed at the strange, intricate markings that were scrawled all. There were some relatively details drawings, but nothing he recognised.
"I'm not really sure what this is," admitted Kwelek in response to the various questions aimed towards him. He turned the page to find a rather curious drawing of a mountain. There were more markings scratched into the picture, but Kwelek could have sworn there was something familiar about the mountain. There seemed to be a drawing along the face of the mountain of a large gate, with an odd symbol that looked like a face, though not human. He didn't know what the face meant, but he definitely knew what a the gate meant.

"I think this is a drawing of the forbidden mountain. The one," He stopped for a moment, hesitating to say the name. "The one that Kwilana visited". No doubt mentioning the heretics name would cause discomfort. Rarely ever seen or heard from, Kwilana was a person surrounded by mystery and superstition. Ever since he was little, Kwelek's grandfather had warned him to never speak to the Witch Kwilana, who was trapped inside her tent to keep her away from the Ansharin. There were many stories spread to Kwelek in his youth about how Kwilana was a demon who devoured children who didn't listen to the elders. Of coarse it all seemed silly at the time, the young Ansharin thinking himself brave enough to show no fear towards the Witch. This time was different, however. Having only ever acknowledged her existence for the sake of a jest, Kwelek was terrified of the idea that Kwilana would be related to this journal in some way. He looked at the others, awaiting their thoughts in the hopes that someone would disprove him. Though he highly doubted it.

There were many mountains throughout the Dreamscape, creating a formidable wall to the rest of the world. The Ansharin frequented most of them in search of supplies, all except one. It was a strange mountain, more of a plateau really. It was wide, but not very tall. At the face of the mountain was a large gate of stone covered in strange markings that no one had been able to decipher. Everyone in the tribe was familiar with the gate, as the hunters often found themselves rather close to it when chasing down animals. They'd always tell Kwelek of the unsettling feeling they felt when approaching it. Kwelek was tingling with anxiousness, but he was also excited. Kwilana scared him terribly, but there was a certain appeal to the fantasy that he would be the one to unearth the secrets of the mountain. It was a silly thought, yet he could feel his curiosity beginning to itch.