"Daddy! You’re back!"
The young girl moved quickly, reaching him in two steps. Her eyes were bright, sharp like a hunter’s, and her eyebrows lifted with a warrior’s confident fierceness. Her majestic eyes and upturned lips together ford a sowhat delicate face.
Seeing the young girl in front of him, Amoxtli’s face showed a rare kindness and tenderness. He reached out and tousled her short hair.
"Alan, I’m back! How has the tribe been while I was away?"
"Daddy, the pumpkins in the tribe are ripe, and everyone has been busy harvesting them. Seeing us gather pumpkins, many common tribe nomads have been lurking around. The warriors have been holding weapons day and night, sleeping by the fence, vigilant against these people!"
Alan pursed her lips and pointed towards a distant figure looking around. Her movents were agile, with calluses on her palms and fingers from archery, and her skin was a healthy wheat color, showcasing a vigorous beauty.
Amoxtli glanced over and saw several lean figures with crude weapons, peering into the pumpkin fields from afar. But they were too far away to see their faces clearly. The red-haired warrior’s eyebrows raised, his expression turning sowhat nacing.
"Recently, many common tribes have been moving north, severely short of food. To fight over food, people die every day in the valley... Alan, grab your bow and arrows later, and co with to shoot these people! Leave two alive, and interrogate them about their origin. Conveniently, Ivican will be here tonight; he’s from the Great Red Fox Tribe, and he can bear witness!"
"Sure!"
Alan nodded briskly, gripping her bow and arrows on her back. As a hunter of the wilderness, she was long accustod to death. Then, the girl pulled out two pairs of sharp rodent teeth from her pocket, smiling brightly.
"Daddy, yesterday morning, I shot two groundhogs! I’ve already processed the at; tonight, I’ll invite you and Uncle Ivican for so roast. Hee hee, it’ll be a good opportunity to consult on archery..."
"Groundhogs, two of them? Alan, did you shoot them yourself?"
Amoxtli was sowhat surprised. Groundhogs were one of the most familiar animals to the Canine Descendants of the wilderness. They were highly alert, quick to run, and adept at burrowing. The usual hunter traps couldn’t hold groundhogs, and shooting such nimble creatures was easier said than done.
"Yes, Daddy. The pumpkins in the field are ripe, so the groundhogs will surely co. The night before last, I took my bow and slept early in the field. I waited until dawn when a few groundhogs ca to nibble, and I shot one with a raise of my hand! The others scattered, and I aid two arrows at the entrances of their holes and luckily hit another one!"
Alan showed a happy smile and vigorously shook the rodent teeth in her hand.
"Two of them, two! One was especially fat, after skinning it weighed three pounds!"
"Ha ha, patient, quick to react, and smart... Alan, you really are a born hunter!"
Amoxtli laughed in admiration. He affectionately tousled the girl’s head again.
"Once this battle is over, I’ll teach you all the scout skills and take you to hunt a couple of Otomi dogs!"
"Daddy, my archery is already better than yours! You promised before that if my archery surpasses yours, you would let join the Scout Team... I want to start scouting now!"
Alan widened her eyes expectantly at Amoxtli. However, he sternly replied,
"Not now, being a scout now is too dangerous with the warriors from Cactus Tribe around! Let’s discuss this after the war is over!"
Hearing her father’s refusal, Alan lowered her head, disappointed and sulking.
"Hmph! The warriors from the Cactus Tribe, I’ve seen them before... they are the ones to be killed."
"Ah..."
Hearing the girl’s words, Amoxtli sighed, mories of long ago flooding his mind. Back then, the girl was only around eleven or twelve years old, traveling north along the Madre Mountains alone. She was wrapped in a small shawl, carrying a dagger and a Hunting Bow, with a bag of nearly depleted food on her back, dirty as if she were a wild child. When he first t her, he saw her Obsidian Dagger and thought she was a lost young boy from a Tribal Chief’s family, so he took her back to the tribe. Unexpectedly, he ended up raising her as his own daughter...
Amoxtli reminisced for a while, then smiled tenderly and asked earnestly.
"Alan, you once lived in Vastec people’s lands in the East; what was it like there?"
"Ah, the East? There’s a lot more to eat there than here, more animals, more trees, everything is green!"
Alan lifted her head, furrowing her brows in thought.
"As for the Vastec people... I was young then. I only rember that occasionally Vastec traders would co to the tribe for trade. They were quite friendly, liked to go unclothed, and really liked dancing... Tribes in the East are different from those in the North; they rarely kill each other. But the capture teams from the Cactus Tribe appeared often..."
As she spoke, Alan’s voice gradually grew solemn, and her eyes seed to harbor flas. Amoxtli shook his head and lovingly tousled the girl’s hair again.
"Hmm, plenty of food, they like dancing, and rarely fight... good, very good! Alan, I’ll go report to the Chieftain first and look for you later!"
"Understood, Dad."
Amoxtli waved his hand and continued to stride forward, his mind full of thoughts. He soon reached the center of the camp, directly lifting the cloth curtain and entering the leader’s longhouse.
The longhouses of ordinary Canine Descendant tribes were poor and small, to the extent that they couldn’t even afford wealth disparity. This one, referred to as a leader’s longhouse, was so cramped and lowly that in the southern Alliance or Kingdom, it would only be considered a ho for commoners. The longhouse was filled with the strong sll of herbs and scattered bones of various animals everywhere. A lean figure was sitting cross-legged amid the piles of herbs and animal bones.
Hearing the noise, the over fifty-year-old Chieftain "Crow," Kakalo, looked up towards the entrance as Amoxtli walked in.
"Amoxtli, you’re back! How’s the situation in the south?"
"The sa as usual. The Cactus Tribe’s army hasn’t made a move, probably waiting for the food supplies to arrive."
"Any news from the three Great Tribes? Are the other tribes mobilizing?"
"The surrounding tribes are all mobilizing, and many tribal warriors have gathered in the valley. According to Ivican, the three Great Tribes are planning to fight with the south until the corn harvest. But Chieftain Otuwa has already received plenty of food, I’m not sure if he will retreat."
Kakalo’s aged face had deep-set eyes. Upon hearing this, he definitively said,
"Otuwa, that old fox! In all these years, I’ve never seen him lose a battle. The Red Fox Tribe has gathered enough food. If the main forces of the southern allied troops encircle us, and our warriors’ casualties increase, that old fox will surely flee! Hmm, although this valley has strategic advantages, it might not hold for long!"
"What?! But Otuwa is currently the leader of all tribes in the valley! If he runs during the battle, then there’s nothing left to defend! Red Cat and Red Frog control the strategic passage at the mouth of the valley, how would they let him escape?"
Amoxtli was worried. He looked at the old chieftain who shook his head.
"Red Cat and Red Frog’s chieftains... Let’s watch and see. We also need to be prepared! The tribe has already mobilized five hundred fighting n, and the previously captured weapons have also been distributed. Based on your intelligence, plenty of early-ripening pumpkins were planted in the fields. After this harvest, we should be able to manage for a few months."
"Chieftain, since the tribe now has so food, why don’t we leave the tribe-concentrated valley and retreat early..."
Amoxtli paused, his expression flickering, but he showed no sha. For the Canine Descendants of the north, the primary concerns were the survival of the tribe, the number of able-bodied mbers, and the amount of food. Thus, running away was not shaful; staying alive was most important. As for such things as honor or beliefs, those were troubleso things concocted by the well-fed southern tribes.
Kakalo thought for a mont, his face trembling with wrinkles, and shook his head.
"Not now. The three Great Tribes have already given orders for everyone to comply with the conscription. We are a tributary of the Red Fox Tribe, watched by many eyes. Besides, there are several tribes blocking the way outside, and patrols from the Great Tribes are around. Everyone still wants to fight; if we flee first and get caught, we would be punished severely. We can only wait for an opportunity when everyone else doesn’t want to fight, or when the battle becos too fierce to manage!"
Amoxtli lowered his eyes. After a while, he sighed.
"Chieftain, the Cactus Tribe is formidable in battle... Facing such a powerful tribe, according to the traditions of the Wilderness, it might be better to surrender early!"
"Foolish! Amoxtli, have you been frightened by the Cactus Tribe? Speaking such nonsense, how can I trust you to lead the tribe! Cough, cough..."
Upon hearing this, Kakalo suddenly beca angry and started coughing forcefully. Amoxtli quickly stepped forward, carefully helping the old chieftain catch his breath. It was a while before Kakalo cald down. He said in a deep voice,
"Amoxtli, the traditions of the Wilderness only apply to the Canine Descendant tribes living there! These southern tribes, though descended from the Wilderness, have forgotten their roots and accepted others as their ancestors! They don’t see us as their kin, how can we trust them and entrust our lives and livelihood to them!"
"Moreover, to whom would you surrender? The Cactus Tribe? What is their reputation? Capturing robust individuals, sacrificing nobles, destroying other tribes... Over decades, even the far-flung Sakatekas know of their brutality."
"As for the Otomi Tribe... how many Otomi dogs have we killed along the way? At that ti, everyone was out of food, and hardly any prisoners were kept. The Great Tribes think only of occupying lands and have also wiped out the nobles of the Pamus State. With such hatred, if the Otomi get their hands on us, wouldn’t they flay us alive!..."
Amoxtli closed his eyes and nodded slowly. He remained silent for a good while before opening his eyes again.
"Chieftain, encountering a hostile tribe on the Wilderness, if we can beat them, we fight; if we cannot, we run; if we can’t escape, we surrender. Now, since we can neither overco them nor surrender, we really need to think hard about where to run! Before coming to see you, I suddenly had an idea..."
"Oh? Let’s hear it..."
Kakalo widened his eyes, leaning forward to listen. Amoxtli whispered his plan. After a long ti, the old chieftain finally nodded heavily.
"If that’s the case, it might indeed be a way out. We, the Guajili people, never worry about long distances, nor do we fear confrontation. But along the way, we still have to overco two more challenges! Hmm, maybe we can also contact a few familiar tribes to join us..."
Soft whispers vanished into the hut, as the faint scent of herbs drifted into the distance. The sun gradually set, casting the hut’s shadow towards the East, as if pointing towards a new direction
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