Primitive Instinct: The Journey Home

We walked into the village and went to the chief’s tent where Roar’kaol’tok handed me the body of the orou and started speaking loudly while holding his paws out towards Diesel and me. After a moment of this, I looked down at my pooch, looking for some clue as to what was being said and he just grinned at me before sitting with his head high, imitating the snobby pricks in movies that were far too proud of themselves.

“Proud?” I whispered to him, and he licked his snout before puffing his chest out as people started gathering in the open area in front of the chief’s tent.

Diesel can do proud, but I was still feeling panicked by the close call, so all I could manage was ‘stoic’. If I tried anything else, I’d probably look more like a constipated duck than not, so... Stoic was the way to go.

After Roar’kaol’tok repeated himself a few times, he stopped when the chief spoke from behind us. The hunter bent his neck and put his paw on his face before speaking at great length, pointing between the sled full of pulak and then to me and Diesel before he grabbed the orou at the scruff and base of the tail. He held it out for everyone to see before turning to show the chief with a bowed head.

He handed it back to me and then held up his knife, sheath and all, to show that I had actually broken the part that was meant to hang from the belt when I grabbed it off him. He placed it in the chief’s paw and the older man looked at it then back to me and Diesel before nodding and offering the knife back.

“Diesel’vor’maan!” he shouted, and the people gathered repeated the new name.

He then used his own claw to pierce his finger pad and gestured for Diesel to come closer. He spoke softly to my dog before touching the bleeding finger to both of his furry shoulders.

I was proud of my boy as he shook himself and moved over as the chief looked at me.

“Fern’rath’fik!” he shouted, letting the people repeat it before gesturing me over.

He spoke and then made blood slashes on my cheeks before clapping his paws and holding them out, dismissing the gathering.

“Roar’kaol’tok,” he called, and the hunter came over to listen to what his leader said, which I caught none of before the chief lifted a brow and the hunter nodded before taking the orou and putting it back on the sled to be dragged back to his tent.

I took my snowshoes off inside and sat on my bed and watched as the hunter got more meat from his stores for us to eat after the long day. The fear when I heard Diesel was sharp like a knife and instantly overwhelming but realizing that I had been a lot closer to losing the hunter was like a steady drip of ice water down the back.

“Roar’kaol’tok,” I said softly, and he looked up at me from where he was making us some tea. “The orou was going to kill you. It was so quiet, even when it was running.”

Diesel whined and the hunter nodded slowly.

He touched his eyes and gestured vaguely towards the sled outside and the object of our talk before shaking his head.

“They aren’t seen often?” I guessed after a long moment of thought, and he shook his head. Diesel yelped and covered his face with his paws and whimpered before looking at me. “They’re scared?”

The hunter nodded and then went outside to drop the animal on the floor. He pointed at it and held his paws together.

“Small,” he said. “Scared.”

He bared his teeth and growled, pointing at it again.

“Vicious. Yeah, I got that part,” I muttered looking at Diesel.

“Strong-vicious,” he nodded and then put a paw over his heart. “Fern’rath’fik strong.”

“Heart. It doesn’t feel like it. I was scared, not brave,” I snorted.

“Scared make brave,” he insisted. “Kaa scared, kaa brave. Make tolu.”

He knocked on the side of his head and I snorted.

“Stupid,” I smirked.

“Strong-stupid,” he nodded, and I laughed a little bit. “Rath’fik good name. Make raan.”

He gestured to the weapons he had already put away and I looked at the orou. And back to the weapons.

“Raan... weapons?” I asked. “From this?”

He nodded and tilted his head for me to go outside with him.

“Kaa tein-tein,” he said, dropping the animal and petting the soft fur. “Wies.”

“You don’t trade fur, so... how do you have blankets of it?” I asked and Diesel tilted his head at the hunter.

He mimed using his bow then thumped his paw on his puffed chest.

“You hunted it. But you hunt a lot of fur,” I pointed at the pulak.

He lifted his lip before shaking his head.

“Kaa haffa. Scared pulak.”

“No respect because pulak are... timid?” I frowned.

He shook his head and went to a pulak, pulling its mouth open to show the blunt teeth meant for eating vegetation then pointing at the sharp teeth of the orou.

“Predators! You hunt predators for fur!” I smiled. “And then you keep the fur as a trophy!”

“Arl...hunt,” he said slowly.

“Hard to hunt,” I nodded. “Yeah, hunting a predator is hard.”

He held up a finger and thumped his chest again before gesturing to the orou.

“Fern’rath’fik hunt orou. Strong-good,” he said, and Diesel leaned into me, making a show of puffing his chest and lifting his head with pride.

“Proud. Kaa. Scared,” I shook my head.

“Scared. Diesel’vor’maan,” he looked at the dog then hooked his fingers and linked his paws together. “Baabak.”

He pointed to a female with a young child and then to a male with an older boy, teaching him something. He repeated the word and I felt like crying again when I understood.

“Family,” I said softly. “Diesel and I are family.”

“Rath’fik strong-good name,” he said, then handed me his bone knife to gut the orou before we called it a night.