43 Rush

Wawa was the only one to witness the soundless comet as it headed in the exact direction they were going, so she led the way. Giken and the Ma'iingan's follow closely behind her, afraid that there could be a new foreign entity they must have to face other than the pale skin people, their weapons and their diseases.

After a long day of traveling, Giken requested that all elderly people along with children rest first while the others forage for food and hunt for game.

"The more we all work the faster we all get to rest and fill our bellies." Giken declared.

The days are long and exhausting but the night is even longer. Giken had begun to feel lost. For each night he was away from Sereen, his memories seemed to be getting more and more foggy. Sometimes he dreams about her and sometimes he can smell the sweet aroma of her scent dancing with the breeze.

Giken tossed and turned all through the night. "Ugh, this love sickness is really like a detox." he complained to himself.

It was already almost dawn when Giken heard some scuffling noises nearby, as if someone or something was walking right into their campsite from the woods.

"It's probably my mind making things up in my head again." Giken thought then he closed his eyes as he tried to go back to sleep. The ruffling of fallen leaves jolts Giken back up awake and alert and he automatically transforms. He sniffed the air and growled. The very familiar scent made his scruffle stand up and his whole body went into defensive mode.

Giken's growling alert others around the camp and they all wake up to join Giken's side, all in their wolf forms.

Giken sniffs the air to try to get a better whiff of this person, but couldn't get much of it's scent. So with his nozzle he shuffled the leaves on the ground that was blown his way. Just then an arrow flies past just above his head, almost grazing his scalp right before it embedded itself into the wolf standing directly behind him.

The wolf falls and sends out a loud whimpering cry, waking everyone in the camp. Mothers and elders brace their little ones in hopes that Giken and his followers will protect them.

Giken glanced back at the fallen wolf, Mooji and her healers quickly pulled the wolf out harm's way to be healed.

Gimiti and her followers line the perimeters and take guard of the borders around the camp. Now all of the Ma'iingans were ready to fight if they needed to.

Another arrow flies by, but this time instead of dodging, Giken gnaws it out of the air and tosses it onto the floor. Four wolves following Giken close in with him towards their attacker.

A very ugly man pops out of the bushes, swinging around a scythe, while hopping on one foot. Giken charges at the man and knocks the wind out of him. Giken's paw maws the man down and rests heavily on his chest as Giken growls viciously down at the guy, saliva spewing all over the man's face.

The man screams in fear. "Please. PLEASE! I'm just escaping from captivity. Please. I know what you are. You are just like me. You are a man, but you can reshape yourselves and take on a wolf form. I've seen it at Riverway. I know you mean no harm. Please."

Giken removes his paw as another wolf takes over so that he can transform back into his human form.

"You! Why be on land not belong to pale men? Attack Ma'ingan, why? Name… NAME?" Giken yelled in the best English he could muster.

Gimtimi interrupts to translate in frustration. "Why did you attack us? Who sent you? How did you even get here?" Giken nods on the side, agreeing to Gimiti's translation as he pants and paces behind Gimtimi in fury.

"My….my name is… is Clint. Riverway was overrun by savages…I mean wolves…Like man-wolves j..ju..just like yourself. Everyone at Riverway is dead, but I manage to escape. As you can see I am wounded and starving." He pointed at his leg and tattered clothing. " Who knows how long I will survive out here. This infection in my leg brings me fever in the night."

From afar Mooji frowns at the sight of the pussing yellow sores and blood blistering around the man's leg.

Gimiti voices the information to Giken and they bicker back and forth.

"Ma'iingan let ancestors do fate. Ma'iingan not help you. Fate be with you side." Giken said loudly as he continued to shout curses. "Mawine aaniin dash…Attack, why? He attacked! Now you not safe for Ma'iingan!" on and on he tried.

"Bangitoo…shut up, Gikendaaso, you don't make sense!" Gimiti yelled at Giken and then turned towards the man called Clint, "We will not help you, Clint, for you had attacked the Ma'iingan. You are brought here by fate and from what we Ma'iingan can see, fate has you in its hands. Move on or we will be forced to remove you by any means."

"Can't you spare me a fecking piece of food, at least. I've been starving, eating raw pine tree's inners, trying to live my life day by day. Can't you see I'm already half dead?" The man yelled, pulling and then pushing the paw of a wolf off his chest as he quickly crawled himself to a sleeping mat nearby and snatched a hide canister. He gulps down the water and then starts to cough, choking by swallowing the water too fast.

The Ma'iingans all watched as this man, rummaging through the things nearby, trying to eat anything that could be chewed.

Giken grabbed two handfuls of rabbit jerky dehydrating on top of some ember at the campfire. He walks up to the man and hands it to the man, "Clint, you eat." The man takes the jerky and stuffs it into his mouth and pockets. "You go. NOW. Ma'iingan not friend with people who attack the Ma'iingan."

For a moment, the man just stared up at Giken and chewed his jerky in silence, but it didn't take long before the man crawled back to his scythe, forced himself to stand up and began to limp away towards the woods.

"Clint. Good fate now. Next time, maybe bad fate. Baamaapii wiingezin…(take it easy)" Giken said loudly behind Clint.

The man rolled his eyes and mumbled to himself as he entered the woods. Everyone watched for the strange man to disappear before anyone even moved. As soon as the man, Clint, was gone, everyone got up and started to pack up.

There is a mutual understanding to all Ma'iingans that one should not dwell too long in one place that is not considered one's home, especially, when a bad omen presents itself such as this. This is a known practice amongst the Ma'iingan, for they are migraters of this land.

"That man, Clint. I've smelled his scent before and it wasn't a good one. Wewiibetaa… Hurry and pack. We must leave at once." Giken ordered.

*

It's been days on our travels and Jerell and I have been nothing more than friends. I guess in a sense, our love was never meant to be anything more than what it was. That one night we had together was like a taste of what could be, but shan't be. I have come to accept that my love, my one true love is Giken.

I foraged for some oyster mushrooms growing on the barks of tree trunks nearby.

In my head all I could think about was, "Where is Jerell? He's been gone for quite some time. He said he saw smoke just north of us and was going to go check it out while he hunted small game, but that was around dawn and now it's already midday." I'm beginning to worry about his whereabouts. By later afternoon, my worries get the best of me and I begin to search our perimeter.

"Jerell?" I'd call out in a whisper. "Jerell?", but there was never a response.

I begin to talk to myself like a lunatic, "Alright, maybe something bad happened to him. I need to go back to our base and pack our things and head out. I knew Jerell very well, and if anything was to happen to him, he'd want me to escape. Besides, I have a baby to protect."

I swiftly ran back to our base covering my tracks as I went. I packed everything swiftly into Jerell's bags and strapped what I could on me piece by piece, tightly onto my belt. Rushing, I dropped a few mini potion jars and quickly got on my knees to pick them up.

I felt a hand grab me from behind, pulling my body in tight for a deep embrace.

I sigh in relief, "Good god, Jerell, I was so worried about you."

But then I began to feel the familiar sensation of cold steel on my skin as it glided beneath my chin. The sharp edge of the blade slowly presses onto my throat and my body freezes involuntarily at the sound of his voice, "Well, well, well. The fecking whore is still alive. Oh, I'm going to enjoy my time with you."