Cuganwa’s stomach protested as he walked back home from running all afternoon. Aiding his father and others, he ran from point to point delivering messages to villagers for supplies. With the sun starting to set. The lights of three enormous bonfires at the village center became more prominent. People were already gathering as they stuck several slabs of meat on spits hanging before the flames. Baskets of dates and grapes sat on the side. Large urns filled with water and juice sat beside the food with servers handing out portions. Musicians and singers made their way to the clearing before performing for dancers.

  The commotion grew quieter as the boy neared his home. Cuganwa ambled on the while smiling at the festivities and all he gained. His legs ached. He ignored them. Soon, his bow would be made, and his training as a full hunter would start soon. ‘Thank you, Great Lord,’ the boy prayed. His gaze turned toward the dirt as Nuyani’s face entered his mind. In all that he gained, she had none. The elder’s lessons repeated in his head.

  “Lord Kelvert please forgive me. I did not know…” Cuganwa started until the unstable steps of Deyunca called his attention. The hunter swayed in his movements leaning forward. In his hand was a waterskin but, the sweet aroma smelled of liquor. Instead of the usual red and light tan clothing, the hunting leader wore a simple blue set with a green sash. The soothing colors were worn by many and contrasted with the red cage surrounding their lives.

  “An-nd what are you sorry for, boy? What does a child need of the Great Lord’s mercy?” Deyunca asked as he struggled to walk. Cuganwa said nothing as he narrowed his eyes at the man and tried to walk on. The man stomped forward with widened eyes cutting the boy off. Both sides of his face were swollen as patches of green from dried ointment covered cuts on his chin, lips, and left eye. “Don’t ignore your eldu-der. What are you sorry for?” Cuganwa stayed silent leaning away from Deyunca. In an inebriated state, he could not tell what the hunter would do. “Answer me.” His tone was just short of a yell.

  “To the witch,” Cuganwa admitted.

  Deyunca in turn, leaned back, furrowed his brow. His eyes set on the boy with a burning rage. Cuganwa felt an urge to fidget but closed his fists. “For the witch, boy?” the man held his arm out. “For the demon child? He took my brother and who knows how many in the dead of night but, you want forgiveness for trying to kill it?” Rearing his head back like a cobra, the man continued to sway waiting for his answer. Nearing a whisper, he continued, “I thought you were the smart one in your father’s lot for try. Now you let an excuse like that stop you?”

  Cuganwa fixed a glare as he started, “My father seems to get the idea better than you. The elders said…”

  “The elders know she is dangerous and think she should be feared!” the man lamented. “The only thing that demon deserves is four parties searching for the den and killing her before she gets another chance.” The man raised his head, standing straight and stable as he leaned his head back. Cuganwa stepped forth readying himself to keep the man balanced. Deyunca instead shot forward releasing his waterskin to dangle on his wrist and grabbed Cuganwa’s arm with a tightened grip. The boy tried to escape as the man’s fingers dug into his skin.

  “Let go! Why are you…” Cuganwa started.

  “Think,” the man demanded as he gave Cuganwa a violent shake. “The pain knowing one of your loved ones is dead or taken. How would you feel if the thing snatched away your father, mother, or sister?” The mixture of food and drink wafted into the boy’s face as Deyunca stayed only a few inches away, forcing the child to back away. “There are dangers greater than the storm, boy. Did you ever think she didn’t like your attempt and would pay you back? She took a charge-horn that could feed dozens. Why not take you too?” Pieces of spit flew to the sides as his grip tightened. Cuganwa grabbed at the man’s fingers trying to remove them.

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  “Let go!” the boy said.

  “What’s going on!” Another voice said. Deyunca righted himself and released Cuganwa. The two look in the shout’s direction, finding Lamoy walking toward them with a bundle of clothing held in one of her arms. The huntress wore a light green dress dotted with a few patterns of blue and violet reaching her ankles. Her gaze fell to Deyunca’s reappearing hand. “What was in your hand, Deyunca?”

  The man narrowed his eyes at her. Lamoy deftly removed a knife from her sash and presented it as if she were ready to strike. Cuganwa’s eyes widened as Deyunca relented, showing both hands were empty. “Perhaps you should calm yourself, Lamoy.” Cuganwa looked at the man, bewildered by the sudden clarity in his words.

  “Or should I say that to you?” Lamoy countered. “The boy looks scared even though he tried to take on the witch? What has Little Charge-horn timid concerns me. So why is he feeling that way?” the woman wore a smile.

  “Just hiving him a proper education of the world. The boy needs to learn the true threats around him.”

  “Aww,” the woman continued to smile and nodded her head. “The threats around him? Turn around.”

  “What?” Deyunca asked.

  The woman took two steps in a rush; her gaze fixed into a maddened stare. “I said turn.” Deyunca moved slowly stepping away from Cuganwa with arms out and fingers splayed as he made a slow turn until he faced Lamoy. The huntress looked at the man with scrutiny. “Fine. Now leave,” Lamoy demanded keeping her blade at the ready. Deyunca looked at her gawking. “I don’t think I should leave you with someone until your head is clear. Would’ve thought that beating was enough.”

  Deyunca fixed a smile as he walked away. “May Lord Kelvert guide you through your trials.”

  “May a fool learn the brazen die,” Lamoy retorted. Deyunca said nothing as he turned about and walked off toward the bonfires. “Idiot.” She then turned to Cuganwa. “Now, what was he educating you on?”

  “He heard me ask the Great Lord for forgiveness for attacking the witch,” Cuganwa admitted.

  Lamoy rolled her eyes before covering her face with her hand. “That drew his ire?” Of course it would.” She looked at Cuganwa. “You remember what the elders told you?” The boy nodded his head. “Then that’s what matters. Pray in your room. Keep those thoughts to yourself. He is the mistaken but, many share his view.”

  “Yes, huntress,” the boy said.

  “Good. Now go back to your business, hunter. This is a time to relieve stress.” Cuganwa nodded once more and left for home.

  Remaining quiet about the event, Cuganwa readied himself for the festival and left with his family tagging along. He wondered about telling his father about the situation but did not want to ruin their night. As the feast went on, hunters went up one after another to share their feats. Though Cuganwa tried to hide, Iogda and Selsaj smiled as they grabbed both arms and carried him toward the clear circle. He was met with cheers before being left on the edge. Gamaunda stood in wait, ready for him to move forward. ‘This is not good,” Cuganwa thought as he began to tell his part in hunting the charge-horns. As he looked through the crowd, he tried to avoid his mother’s eyes. He mentioned every detail he could remember, as some shook their heads at his mistake and survival. Some of the younger villages gawked in disbelief.

  Finishing his part, Cuganwa met with cheers as the others clapped for him. A brief peek toward his left showed his father smiling trying to hold back his laughter and his mother forcing her smile with a slow, angry clap. Leaving the circle, Cuganwa heard the two hunters call out, “Little Charge-horn,” leading everyone into a short chant. This only left Cuganwa smiling as he left for another hunter to take the circle. As the feast went on, he left to speak with his friends and eat.