History
How I came to know Azadi
((I had a flash of insight over coffee for my Reddalt))
There comes a time in one's life when one reaches a fork in the trail and takes it, the act of doing so then defines one's life. It can be as simple as winning a fight, the death of a loved one, taking a mate, siring a son. In my case it was when I met the Other.
I was content in my life, full of virility, not wanting for a mate and having a goodly number of little ones to carry on my bloodline. I consider myself smart, not dull of wit or slothful ... one does not reach my age by being, lazy or dumb. Luck … and maybe the blessing of Nature … may also have something to do with it.
I had met the Other on the borders of my home. I was busy surveying its reaches, looking out for predators, regardless of its species. There was good food to be hand this day, a brisk rain had come in the night and there were many ripe fruit lying about. I think I shall bring some home, I thought, would that not be a treat? For my relatives to see ME of all people bringing home food! In my reverie it came close and I stopped, spilling my precious sweet cargo.
It was thin, shorter than me and thin like a branch. It had a long mane of hair which was a pretty color, like the sands of the beach by the Great Roaring Lake and had streaks of grey and silver … signs of age and wisdom. It was clawless and fangless, it was not armed like a predator, yet it draped itself with the carcasses of Swiftfang, Silentpaw and Great Renderbeasts.
I stood and stared at it … that was a mistake, it's eyes were hollow and dead, like those of my father when he saw his last winter. There was no spark of life in them but yet it moved and breathed, the body lived, but there was no Life in its eyes. I was struck between the need to flee and my duty to protect my family. I picked up a thick branch and brandished it with a fearsome display “Go Away! Go Away!” I yelled at it “I will hurt you! Begone!”
Well, Spirits of my Fathers, I tried. Nothing ever listens but another person, but it is only fair that I warn it. So I charged with all my rage and strength, smashing things as I came closer. My lungs filled the air with my warcries and I bellowed out my wrath. Yet, it did not move.
I could not in good conscience strike the first blow, so I menaced it and smote the air and ground with my weapon, great clods of earth and bark flew everywhere. I circled it yelling and screaming, “I will hurt you! I will KILL you! I will smash your bones and gouge out your eyes! I will slay you and all you blood! Begone! AAARGGG!”
Yet it did not move, it did not even turn to face me. It just sat there, silent and unmoving. It was not an it ... it was as she. Her musk told me so, she smelled … wrong. Not a person, most definitely not. Not a Ravager, not a Half-Hunter or a Tall-Hunter, not a Demon. She smelled of a Tall-Hunter but soaked in Ravager piss.
I circled around her several more times, breathing hard from my exertions, hah! like that was the case, let her think I was tired. I stopped and crouched low, close in front of her face and looked again into the dead eyes. She breathed, she blinked, her mouth twitched. She was not a Deadwalker like roam the Deadstones.
She was scarred, fire burned her in places. He nose was wrong, all misshapen. He fingers were gnarled and knobby, broken and healed: in some cases poorly. Hah, she did not know the basest of skills of survival, but then again, neither would I if Mother did not teach me.
I asked her “Why are you here? This is my home. Have you come to take it? Topple the trees like a Demon? Slaughter us for our skins and flesh like a Ravager? To hunt us for sport? Tell me why I should not kill you?” Again, she stared in silence and her response was to slowly reach inside a folded Silentpaw skin and pull out a hardfruit.
“Idiot! You think to offer me that hardfruit for your life? No fang can pierce it and if you smash it all the juice is lost.” She unsheathed a vicious talon, not black and hard like a Swiftfang, but shiny like the sun off the waves of the Great Roaring Lake, or the light from the Nightmother's Face. She stuck the talon into the hardfruit and twisted back and forth several times and I could see the husk peeling away. No claw could do that, I have tried before with the Swiftfang talon ... but it was from a youngling that I had caught without its mother ... besides, it had attacked me first.
I caught the hint of hardfruit juice as the talon cut a hole through it's husk, then made a second smaller hole next to it. She sheathed her talon and put her mouth over the large hole, leaving the small hole open to the sky, oh! How clever! So the spirits of her ancestors can share of the bounty, too! She had respect for her ancestors and Nature.
Much to my surprise she handed me the hardfruit and I mimicked her gestures, offering my silent prayers to my Father and Ancestors. Oh, the sweet juice of hardfruit, the rarest of delicacies, offered freely by the Other. I would reciprocate and after I finished the hardfruit I found a nearby rock with a sharp edge. I lifted the hardfruit high, and brought it down on the edge, cracking it cleanly through. I gathered the pieces, prayed my thanks to the Earthmother for providing us with this meal and shared it with the Other, “For you, bounty of the Earthmother”
We sat in silence eating the soft white meat of the hardfruit. She used her shiny talon to scrape the last bits of meat off the husk. This female was wise and cunning, but silent. All of the Others I watched cackled, gabbled, gibbered and burbled some sort of calls. Not this Other, she just nodded her head, grunted and rose slowly.
“Why are you here? You did not answer me? Was it just to show me you Silvertalon? Where can I find one? What manner of beast has a Silvertalon? WHO ARE YOU?”
The Other turned an thumped her chest just like a Ravager and finally burbled. Now I know why she could not speak, she has lost her tongue and many teeth. What was her crime against her gods to have warranted such a disfigurement. Did she offend her ancestors? I was moved by pity that the Earthmother would allow such a creature to walk amongst her creation and not take her.
Yet, she did not just survive, it looked to me that she thrived. She wore the hides and skins of Predators, yet she was not equipped like one herself. She took a Silvertalon as a trophy, the sharpest claw I or any of the people have ever seen! She did not carry a Thunderstick like a Half-hunter or wear Turtleshell like the Tall-Hunters. Nor did she walk with grace through the woods like a Tall-Spirit.
“Please, who are you? Why are you here? What have you come for?”
She pointed to her chest and burbled, slow and carefully, for her mouth could not form true Words, “A-za-di” Azadi? Freedom? How could she know Speech? I pointed to my chest and said “Banmanas”. She nodded and slowly formed the words, hard for her, “Ba-na-maf.” Close enough for a female with missing teeth.
I understood why she would not Speak for she must have aggrieved or cursed her ancestors with that tongue of hers and they took away her Voice in retribution. She obviously dare not try to Speak lest she bring down greater vengeance upon her. She did not say anything more, just turned and walked away, silent and careful: no branches snapped, leaves rustled or little animals scurried.
I was left to myself for a while. What should I do? My deliberations did not take long. The Earthmother had placed in my path a spirit with dead eyes, an omen of what it could mean to live and walk and breath, yet not know life. She smelled as if she never bore a child, such a musk is unique, even amongst Tall-hunters. She lives without having lived ... was I too show her what it was to Live? To take in the Earthmother's breath as it blew through the grass, marvel at the Great Roaring Lake and taste its salty spray, the tears of many childbirths? No, folly and hubris to think I could teach an Other. Many generations have tried … all have failed.
No, I was to walk beside her, to watch over her and if need be protect her from that of which she is ignorant. She has no fur to save her from brambles and Sweetstings. She is thin and skinny, weak of limb and frail of health. I will use my bulk to be her arms and provide her warmth. No need to anger the Sun-Father by trying to steal his fire, when she will have my bulk in cold nights. I will be her voice to Nature as she was robbed of speech.
I was resolute and resolved and that dear children was the day that my life changed forever: the Day I followed Azadi of the Deadeyes.
There comes a time in one's life when one reaches a fork in the trail and takes it, the act of doing so then defines one's life. It can be as simple as winning a fight, the death of a loved one, taking a mate, siring a son. In my case it was when I met the Other.
I was content in my life, full of virility, not wanting for a mate and having a goodly number of little ones to carry on my bloodline. I consider myself smart, not dull of wit or slothful ... one does not reach my age by being, lazy or dumb. Luck … and maybe the blessing of Nature … may also have something to do with it.
I had met the Other on the borders of my home. I was busy surveying its reaches, looking out for predators, regardless of its species. There was good food to be hand this day, a brisk rain had come in the night and there were many ripe fruit lying about. I think I shall bring some home, I thought, would that not be a treat? For my relatives to see ME of all people bringing home food! In my reverie it came close and I stopped, spilling my precious sweet cargo.
It was thin, shorter than me and thin like a branch. It had a long mane of hair which was a pretty color, like the sands of the beach by the Great Roaring Lake and had streaks of grey and silver … signs of age and wisdom. It was clawless and fangless, it was not armed like a predator, yet it draped itself with the carcasses of Swiftfang, Silentpaw and Great Renderbeasts.
I stood and stared at it … that was a mistake, it's eyes were hollow and dead, like those of my father when he saw his last winter. There was no spark of life in them but yet it moved and breathed, the body lived, but there was no Life in its eyes. I was struck between the need to flee and my duty to protect my family. I picked up a thick branch and brandished it with a fearsome display “Go Away! Go Away!” I yelled at it “I will hurt you! Begone!”
Well, Spirits of my Fathers, I tried. Nothing ever listens but another person, but it is only fair that I warn it. So I charged with all my rage and strength, smashing things as I came closer. My lungs filled the air with my warcries and I bellowed out my wrath. Yet, it did not move.
I could not in good conscience strike the first blow, so I menaced it and smote the air and ground with my weapon, great clods of earth and bark flew everywhere. I circled it yelling and screaming, “I will hurt you! I will KILL you! I will smash your bones and gouge out your eyes! I will slay you and all you blood! Begone! AAARGGG!”
Yet it did not move, it did not even turn to face me. It just sat there, silent and unmoving. It was not an it ... it was as she. Her musk told me so, she smelled … wrong. Not a person, most definitely not. Not a Ravager, not a Half-Hunter or a Tall-Hunter, not a Demon. She smelled of a Tall-Hunter but soaked in Ravager piss.
I circled around her several more times, breathing hard from my exertions, hah! like that was the case, let her think I was tired. I stopped and crouched low, close in front of her face and looked again into the dead eyes. She breathed, she blinked, her mouth twitched. She was not a Deadwalker like roam the Deadstones.
She was scarred, fire burned her in places. He nose was wrong, all misshapen. He fingers were gnarled and knobby, broken and healed: in some cases poorly. Hah, she did not know the basest of skills of survival, but then again, neither would I if Mother did not teach me.
I asked her “Why are you here? This is my home. Have you come to take it? Topple the trees like a Demon? Slaughter us for our skins and flesh like a Ravager? To hunt us for sport? Tell me why I should not kill you?” Again, she stared in silence and her response was to slowly reach inside a folded Silentpaw skin and pull out a hardfruit.
“Idiot! You think to offer me that hardfruit for your life? No fang can pierce it and if you smash it all the juice is lost.” She unsheathed a vicious talon, not black and hard like a Swiftfang, but shiny like the sun off the waves of the Great Roaring Lake, or the light from the Nightmother's Face. She stuck the talon into the hardfruit and twisted back and forth several times and I could see the husk peeling away. No claw could do that, I have tried before with the Swiftfang talon ... but it was from a youngling that I had caught without its mother ... besides, it had attacked me first.
I caught the hint of hardfruit juice as the talon cut a hole through it's husk, then made a second smaller hole next to it. She sheathed her talon and put her mouth over the large hole, leaving the small hole open to the sky, oh! How clever! So the spirits of her ancestors can share of the bounty, too! She had respect for her ancestors and Nature.
Much to my surprise she handed me the hardfruit and I mimicked her gestures, offering my silent prayers to my Father and Ancestors. Oh, the sweet juice of hardfruit, the rarest of delicacies, offered freely by the Other. I would reciprocate and after I finished the hardfruit I found a nearby rock with a sharp edge. I lifted the hardfruit high, and brought it down on the edge, cracking it cleanly through. I gathered the pieces, prayed my thanks to the Earthmother for providing us with this meal and shared it with the Other, “For you, bounty of the Earthmother”
We sat in silence eating the soft white meat of the hardfruit. She used her shiny talon to scrape the last bits of meat off the husk. This female was wise and cunning, but silent. All of the Others I watched cackled, gabbled, gibbered and burbled some sort of calls. Not this Other, she just nodded her head, grunted and rose slowly.
“Why are you here? You did not answer me? Was it just to show me you Silvertalon? Where can I find one? What manner of beast has a Silvertalon? WHO ARE YOU?”
The Other turned an thumped her chest just like a Ravager and finally burbled. Now I know why she could not speak, she has lost her tongue and many teeth. What was her crime against her gods to have warranted such a disfigurement. Did she offend her ancestors? I was moved by pity that the Earthmother would allow such a creature to walk amongst her creation and not take her.
Yet, she did not just survive, it looked to me that she thrived. She wore the hides and skins of Predators, yet she was not equipped like one herself. She took a Silvertalon as a trophy, the sharpest claw I or any of the people have ever seen! She did not carry a Thunderstick like a Half-hunter or wear Turtleshell like the Tall-Hunters. Nor did she walk with grace through the woods like a Tall-Spirit.
“Please, who are you? Why are you here? What have you come for?”
She pointed to her chest and burbled, slow and carefully, for her mouth could not form true Words, “A-za-di” Azadi? Freedom? How could she know Speech? I pointed to my chest and said “Banmanas”. She nodded and slowly formed the words, hard for her, “Ba-na-maf.” Close enough for a female with missing teeth.
I understood why she would not Speak for she must have aggrieved or cursed her ancestors with that tongue of hers and they took away her Voice in retribution. She obviously dare not try to Speak lest she bring down greater vengeance upon her. She did not say anything more, just turned and walked away, silent and careful: no branches snapped, leaves rustled or little animals scurried.
I was left to myself for a while. What should I do? My deliberations did not take long. The Earthmother had placed in my path a spirit with dead eyes, an omen of what it could mean to live and walk and breath, yet not know life. She smelled as if she never bore a child, such a musk is unique, even amongst Tall-hunters. She lives without having lived ... was I too show her what it was to Live? To take in the Earthmother's breath as it blew through the grass, marvel at the Great Roaring Lake and taste its salty spray, the tears of many childbirths? No, folly and hubris to think I could teach an Other. Many generations have tried … all have failed.
No, I was to walk beside her, to watch over her and if need be protect her from that of which she is ignorant. She has no fur to save her from brambles and Sweetstings. She is thin and skinny, weak of limb and frail of health. I will use my bulk to be her arms and provide her warmth. No need to anger the Sun-Father by trying to steal his fire, when she will have my bulk in cold nights. I will be her voice to Nature as she was robbed of speech.
I was resolute and resolved and that dear children was the day that my life changed forever: the Day I followed Azadi of the Deadeyes.
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