Log:Mandalorians: Back to Basics
Clan Tal sends out an open invite to a traditional hunt meant to welcome six new members to their clan.
OOC Date: April 12, 2020
Location: Mimban, Circarpous System
Participants: Siha Archer, Sar Yavok, Percy, Hopp Nooram
[Siha]
Hunting grounds
The air hangs heavily within the confines of this vast jungle forest, tall bending and crooking their way into the skies, heavy greenish blue foliage allowing only pinpricks of light to dwindle down to the forest floor. Thick mosses fight for dominance along tree truck and forest floor, competing with large jagged fronds of massive ferns which bear leaves of white and red, patterning like thousands of eyes staring unblinking. The air is hot, humid, thousands of tiny bugs zipping in to drink the salty dew of sweat from off exposed flesh and from edges of armor plating where they condense and drip away. The calls of birds and other creatures echo here and there, the occasional screech of warning piercing the air to warn of predators and visitors alike.
A long worn pathway, used by animals and humanoids alike for ages, winds its way through this forest, opening up into a large clearing trampled grasses and mossy blankets, about the size of a football field.
Around the perimeter of the large field there are several large and very tall trees which are pulled back towards the field and tied down by large coils of rope which are secured in the ground by large metal spikes.
It's late afternoon, warm sun shining down fingers of yellow-hazed white down upon the forest floor as the long worn path is followed by the Mandalorians that were able to make it today, the party led by a group of elders, three females and two males, their pace setting the pace for the rest of the party which numbers near to thirty-five. The elders themselves are in their armor, some bodies bent and crooked, one woman fat and squat, one man tall and thin with his body nearly doubled over, two sticks used for walking, some carrying large buckets strapped to their backs. Children, babies, toddlers number in among the group, carried by members in the group like little bundles of joy. It's a slow but easy hike, and along the way stories in Mando'a are shared about these hunts, meant to welcome those who have been born or come anew into the Clan, or remember those who have passed.
First the hunt to bring down one of the Greater Motts that roam these forests would happen, this time of year their mating season which means the males would be very aggressive and on the lookout for females in estrus.
Siha translates for the Mandalorians who don't yet have a firm grasp, or any grasp at all, on the Mando'a language, mainly so they can benefit from the wisdom of the Elders.
Along the path Greysors, primates, fling and swing themselves through the trees, following the parade of Mandalorians, soft burnished red fur coats mottled with white underbellies and faces which stare out from high above, some of the more adventurous of the group drifting down to walk parallel before jettisoning back up into the tree line with loud hooting hollers. Excitement is brewing in the troupe.
Eventually the clearing is reached, with the Elders moving to those wrangled trees, a conversation had amongst them as Mandalorian with children move the children to the opposite end of the field. The Elders choose one particular tree, buckets unslung from behind them and set down on the ground. The elders then upend the buckets around the base of the tree and call out readiness for the rest of the group.
The Greysors let out shrieks before disappearing quickly into the forest, deeper and deeper, and the Elders move to cross the field to join the rest of the group, Siha clapping her hands together, "WOO! Yes, okay - so, this is where it's gonna get fun. You guys ready?" Asked of Hopp, Perc and Sar in Mandalorian, the woman basically asking them if they're ready. See, it's how she cocks her head and pumps her fists in the air as she shouts at them the question.
Children are for the time being left behind as like 7 warriors, Siha included, advancing forwards towards the middle of the field with their weapons drawn, one of the elders cupping their hands to throatily make a belligerent noise, the call of love in the wild. Perc, Hopp and Sar are welcome to advance with them, though Siha will pause momentarily, shoulders dropping as she turns on her heel, katana lifted back to point at Percy, 'Percy, can you please wait with the elders and the children? Your turn will be soon.' In basic, so he doesn't miss out on any of her instructions, 'We don't want you to die before you even get to drink it all in.' He doesn't have armor, afterall, so it would kinda be unfair to toss him in with the rest of these brutes from the getgo. Right? Right.
[Hopp]
Hiding his eyerolls behind the T-visor of his Mandalorian helmet, the oldest of the group stalks along on his long lanky legs, occasionally pulling out a cig and mashing it against the side of the metal face that he keeps forgetting is there. He watches the ceremony with something like reverence, or boredom, before finally the Greysors go tearing off into the woods.
"I'm really not clear on what's happening here, okay, I- I never much went in for this sort of thing," the old coot finally grates through the helmet's vocoder. "I gather we're baiting something or other, I- I get that, but- you know what, don't tell me, I haven't been surprised by anything for at least the last three days, so- so- you know, they say variety is the spice of life, and- and I don't got much left of either, spice or life, and I mean that in a very literal sense," he rambles, producing a vibrodagger from his belt that looks wholly unsuited for any sort of hunting that doesn't involve suicidal levels of proximity to whatever one is hunting. "Ran out of spice three days ago too."
Siha's admonition to Percy gets a cock of his helmet. "Leave the kid alone, alright, if- if he wants to get himself killed with us, that's his- that's- you know, he's got that right too, okay, you- kids these days, I mean, look at him, alright, you- he's not gonna make it long out here in this galaxy anyway, you can just- just look at the kid. Look at him." Hopp is looking at him. "Let him live a little before his inevitable demise."
[Percy]
A JUNGLE! WHY IS IT ALWAYS A JUNGLE?! Humidity. Sweat. Rain. These are some of the things that Percival Blackwater detests more than anything else. His time in the Resistance made him really come to realise this, as /every single one of their hideouts/ was on some sort of blasted jungle moon. Even when one of these bases EXPLODED? They relocated to another damned jungle! So you can imagine how much his anxiety has really spiked when he set foot on Mimban. With brown boots crunching on the mossy undergrowth, the professional Doctor squints as he lifts a handkerchief to wipe his brow. The eternally gathering sweat that he feels makes his skin positively crawl. "Well isn't this just lovely?"
Dressed in his 'adventure' gear today, Percy paints a strange looking picture for any mandalorian prospect. His normal black vest is gone from his collared long-sleeved cotton shirt, replaced by his faded floral-patterned poncho. A wide brimmed hat can be seen on his head, an article of clothing clearly designed to help protect him from binary suns more than forest trees. Yet despite looking relatively out of place, despite the sweat, despite the gross mossy stuff that he walks upon, there are good things about being here. "Fascinating." He remarks, eyeing the Greysors that swing and fling themselves through the trees above. "Very curious. Greysors. Here? This far away from Naboo? And thriving." Percy's blue eyes narrow just a smidgen when they retreat once the group reaches the clearing. "Oh."
Assembling with the others, the Doctor tilts his head in some confusion when Siha barks at him. Following the lead of the others, he nods stiffly. "Sure..." Thankfully, Siha's follow-up instructions in plain basic seem quite sensible. Hopp on the other hand gets a rather incredulous look, as one might expect. "Charming." He notes, that high-class Coruscant accent ringing true. "As it stands, yes, I believe staying behind would be quite smart."
As the warriors presumably march off, the Doctor turns, pivoting in his step to regard the youngsters and elders present. "Say, are any of you keen to hear of the time I got kidnapped by pirates?" He starts, perhaps choosing to believe that telling a story will help pass the time while the others are gone. "It's quite a tale."
[Siha]
Siha Archer extends a hand out towards Percy, head dropping her cheek towards her shoulder as she grins beneath her helmet, "The mark of a true Mandalorian isn't in the will to rush forwards, but in knowing one's strengths and playing to them. And .." A bobble of her head from side to side, "Well, rushing forwards when called." Yes, yes, she's speaking in Mando'a, but how else will they learn if they're not totally immersed in it, 'Good, Percy.' Siha says, relenting and giving him a little praise in basic so he knows he's okay. Don't listen to the big bad old man Hopp. The children, at least the older ones, look a little dubiously at Percy, the man strange looking, pale, sickly. But a story is a story and one of the elders, after crouching down to sit, waves at Percy, gesturing for him to tell his story.
Meanwhile, in the field, Siha is turning to eye Hopp and pointing from him to the circle of the weakest in the clans, gesturing lightly, "You are more than welcome to join them, old man, but I know you like a good thrill like any other." Unslinging her katana she'll step forwards, others advancing with her, as they wait.
The forest trills and calls go quiet, rustling of leaves and the sweet hot breeze of the afternoon swaying in through the grasses. Depending on your experiencing of time, this may be a long or short few minutes, for Siha it's fairly long, woman swaying on her feet as she squints off towards that tied down tree.
Soon enough the tops of the forest trees are shaking, that call from the elder having rippled off into the distance, summoning a huge Mott, a Greater Mott, towards the clearing, with the Greysors leading the charge, hopping and jumping off the back of the Mott and enraging it further as it trails the scent of the urine that was poured on the tree of a female in heat. It bellows out, trees cracking and pushing back at the massive beast which is like, you know. Big. It head bunts the tree that was baited for it, saliva foaming at it's mouth, big brown eyes wild as his horn smashes through the tree to shatter it up one end, leaving it to fall as the monkeys dart into the clearing to goad the enraged creature to follow them on.
"Remember, we bring it down enough to allow the children to hunt!" Siha calls, a glance given to Sar and Hopp, 'We won't kill it straight off, cut to bleed it out.' Instructed, the Mott huffing and padding the ground with one of it's sharply toed feet, horn swayed from side to side angrily before it breaks into a run at the group which begins to fan out, those monkeys darting off to the edges of the clearing to hop into the trees to scream and shriek like they're cheering. YEAH. KILL IT!
[Hopp]
"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," Hopp responds to Siha, shaking his helmeted head with his bony hands on his hips, rubbing the front of the helmet and wishing for not the first time that there was some sort of cig-port in it. While they're having their little chat, the Mott comes thundering into the clearing, the field in the midst of the trees providing absolutely no cover from the charge of an ungulate in heat.
"Kriffing- well, time runs out for everyone eventually," the old man drawls dryly under his helmet, tossing an unlit cig down and grinding it under his boot. It's more dramatic when it's actually been smoked. He tosses the dagger up in the air and attempts to catch it by the handle. He doesn't, though, it bounces off his fingers and falls on the ground.
"A- a metaphor for life, kids," he yells to everyone in the vicinity, including the actual children, and with a great creaking pop, bends over to recover the thing before he shambles forward in a long, loping stride to slash wildly at the creature, and again, but neither blow is anywhere near the thing. He's stood much too far back for the little blade to reach. "I- I'm not ready! I don't want to die! I- I- I got things to live for!"
Meanwhile, as all this is happening? Percy has found a nice, flat rock to rest on. The walk here was tiresome, so it seemed an appropriate time to try and recover some stamina. As that handkerchief wipes more sweat away from his brow, the Doctor takes off his hat so that it rests in his lap. "...so there I was," Percy recites, dictating the story reasonably well through various motions. "Ambushed by sand pirates hoping to gain the secrets of my state-of-the-art fuel that would change the galaxy. Blaster fire erupted in the night sky - lighting up the evening like fireflies against a stream. I dodged left," Note: he fell over. "I dodged right." After falling over, he sort of wiggled a bit. "...then was taken." His hand whips through the air to a closed fist, really emphasizing that point. "...when I was unhooded, I was on the edge of the Tatooine wastes. I was in the midst of a trade of some sort. I was bound, unable to wretch myself free. But then, just as it was about to happen?" The sickly fellow pauses for dramatic effect, before opening his closed fist widely in a sudden motion. "Bang!" Percy's eyes widen. "In naught but a moment, Siha Archer, who I didn't know at the time, unloaded on the half-dozen pirates. In a single moment of dominance she felled most that were present. In the next moment she was victorious, without a scratch or wound on her." With a wide, thin smile he looks down at those listening. "And that is how I met her." Fast forward a couple of years, and here he is. How did that even happen?
The huge stomping in the distance and rustling of the trees causes Percy to look up from the group, squinting in the distance. If he had more of the story to tell, it's withheld. "What could that possibly be?" He wonders aloud, pursing lips in thought, before he shrugs. "I'm sure they're fine." That may have been said just as Hopp is hollering about not wanting to die.
[Sar]
Has Sar been here the whole time? Of course he has. And once the great big mega rhino has been engaged, Sar's running full-tilt at the thing, his rancor claw dagger held at the ready. He manages to leap up onto the mighty beast, digging the dagger into its hide, but it's thrashing sends him flying off, leaving any follow up attack a thing of mere imagination.
[Siha]
The Old Mott, cantankerous and really due for some time with a mate, is greeted not by a potential mate, but by tiny things in cans that are angering it with the help of those stupid monkeys. Swinging it's great head once it picks up one of the Mandalorian warriors who is equipped with a sword beneath his breastplate and skewers him, a second wave of his head sending the man flying through the air, off, off, off, towards Percy and the group of elders and children, dropping down, not quite dead, but likely in need of Percys handiwork to, you know, keep him from dying. The man upon landing rolls over onto his side with a hoarse groan, one arm flopping over to clutch at his chest, raucous cheers erupting from both the children and the elders as he shows signs of life. FIRST ONE ATTACKED! HE MUST BE THE STRONGEST! Look at him! All splayed out but not yet given up. Percy, for his wonderful story, held a briefly rapt audience, smaller children’s eyes wide and mouths dropped open, though ..it might also be for the scene taking place behind him rather than he met their illustrious leader, "Come on, old man! Show the Elders why you're not sitting with them! I know you've got it in you!!!" As Sar vaults up into the air Siha is letting out a crow of laughter, her sword swinging in at the creatures back end.
The Mott, free of it's burden of Sar, turns a wide circle to gain momentum for it's next rush at the tiny annoying creatures, bellowing out and clawing at the ground before it rushes once more forwards, missing one of the remaining Mandalorians by a large berth and getting more angry, driving forwards blindly to try and capture something on it's nose for tossing.
[Hopp]
The old man watches with horror as one of the Mandalorian hunters is stuck like a pig by the thing like a giant angry pig, and gesticulates wildly in the beast's direction. "Did you- did you SEE that?! Kriffing- the- the size of- FANGS, TUSKS, big- big nasty TUSKS, Archer! That could have been -ME-!" Ah, the true cause for alarm.
Frantic with his sudden resurgence of joie de vivre, Hopp swings another crazed swipe of his dagger at the Mott's flank without moving even a lick closer to the 'prey'. "When it- it'll get close to me eventually, and- and I'll be ready, alright, I- I'm gonna get it, when I'm good and ready. If it comes at me. It- it- you'll all see!"
[Percy]
THUD! Percival positively /jumps/ with fright as the mandalorian quite literally falls into the area. The warrior fell from above his eye line, is clearly gouged, yet is still alive? That armour must be something else. Standing up from his seated position on the rock and striding over to the groaning figure, the Doctor narrows his gaze on the crumpled figure and performs a quick, visual assessment. If this guy cannot be saved it's worth knowing, but... somehow, through some miracle, his vitals looked to be non-gouged. "Good grief. That is some luck."
Naturally he didn't come to this mandalorian trial completely unprepared, with a heavy shoulder-pack across his form unslung and thrown to the ground near the injured mando. "Sith's blood," He curses. "My hands are all sweaty." Trying to dry his palms on his poncho, the pale figure reaches into the pack, withdrawing some medical tools. If he gets that help he asked for, that will make this easier. If not? Well, he's still good enough to apply enough treatment to save this poor fool. Blinking profusely as he tries to rid the his eyes of that stinging sweat, he mutters something under his breath.
[Sar]
Still on the ground, Sar lets loose a long groan before rolling into his side and standing back up. His dagger is lifted into the air and clanked against his breast plate a couple more times before he takes off towards the mott once more. A leap and he's dug himself into the side of the thing once more, his dagger his only point of viable purchase before he manages to sling an arm up over the back of the beast and jab his knife into its hide twice more.
[Siha]
"I did! I did! And look at you, with those fancy feet of yours, Hopp!" Said in response to Hopp as Siha dances out of the way of the big mean Mott, which sounds like it should be sweet like juice, but it ain't. It mad. IT MAD. Stamping it's feets like an angry cat making bread it's back end wiggles and waggles as it tries to focus on just one of these beasties taunting it. Sar's attacks along with the others do what they're intended to do. Bleed the Mott out and tire it /out/. With each subsequent slice and dice of Sar while getting hugs from him (it's a very confusing message), has the beast pawing a little slower, head snapping around to try to rid itself of Sar even as it rushes towards another of the Mandalorian crew that is not Hopp, Sar or Siha. How very lucky of the trio.
Not so lucky for the first one hit, a woman who gets slammed to the side and rolled, though she's bouncing up with a broken arm, which means she still has one good arm to swing her slender blade in the other hand, a quick transfer done and more cheering coming from the gallery at the end of the field, though the fight is getting closer and closer to them as each warrior not new to the clans hunts backs up and entices the beast closer to the group of eldery and young. Oh. And Percy.
The second head swing goes wide, though the beast, Old Man Mott, finds a spurt of energy to follow up on the back-wheeling Mandalorian male to SMASH into him with the side of it's head, also sending him flying back. The man rolls a few time and slaps the ground with his hands and lets out a throaty yell of triumph, also having been chosen by the beast and risen from the hit. Up to his knees he goes, then a bounce up onto his heels, the man already running back in along with Hopp to attack it again.
Percy does get help from two of the male elders, the men also healers though not formally trained like Perc himself. They'll work with him and their own tools which are drawn from pockets, helping the Mandalorian that took first hit. It's good, honest work, though soon they'll start to wave him off, "Go, go, it's your turn to spill blood, we will stay with him. Hurry, before the children claim the kill entirely away from you." Encouraging him to join the children who are now being encouraged by the hunters on the field to come and join them as the beast begins to stagger. Siha will drive her sword into the back left rump of the beast, causing it to half-fall, taking away it's ability to rush forwards and impale the children.
Weapons are given to the children who are then guided forwards with each an adult, maybe even two, even the two small babies in the group being snapped up by their parents to come and join in the hunt as the beast snaps out with teeth to bite the air at the group, "Hopp, take your kill, go, Percy-" Siha calls out, 'PERCY, COME.' Waving him over, a child of ten or so given her sword as she swaggers her way over to the edge of the field with the elders to make sure Percy takes park, 'You must complete the ritual, let's go. Come, bring your blunt stick and take a smack.' Some of the children are scared, others are bold and full of fire, knives and swords hammered and stabbed into the beast, with adults helping guide the knives while also giving helpful tips on arteries.
[Hopp]
What sort of asshole would stand back out of the real danger zone flailing ineffectually with a knife until the creature was already on its last legs, weakened and unable to defend itself? Hopp Nooram, that's who.
The old coot sees the way the Mott is starting to list on its feet, slowing down from loss of blood and like, being stabbed in the innards. Springing like a jack in the box, he lunges forward, the dagger sticking in the side of the thing for only a moment before it pulls free, the ultrasonic edge too sharp to hold for long. "I KILLED IT," Hopp cries triumphantly, waving the bloody knife aloft, letting the warm blood spatter down onto his helmet. He most certainly did not kill it.
[Percy]
"Oh, mercy." Percy drawls, watching as the wounded Mott makes its way closer to the group of younglings and elders. As the instructions are given out to those that are gathered to attack, the Doctor summons what courage he has and reaches into his pack. Fumbling around for the stun baton that he purchased for this very event, he wields the thing with as much finesse as a donkey wields a scalpel. "Come on, young ones." He encourages, eyeing off some of the scared children that are naturally hesitant to approach. "If I can do this? Then you can too. You're not going to turn out like that mandalorian I told you about in the story if you just linger behind."
His approach to the raging animal is one of supreme caution. As mandalorians young and old thrust into the creature, Percy dares to pick his moment amid the chaos. Taking a deep breath, he swings forth with his stun baton, sending concussive energies throughout the Mott's body as the Doctor manages to, somehow, land a hit! Surprised that he managed to hit the thing on his first attempt, he looks at his weapon like he had just discovered fire.
Then he retreats back to a much safer distance, huffing all the while..
[Sar]
Climbing further onto the Mott's back with the aid of his dagger, Sar stands atop it before he takes a running leap, turns in the air, and drops, bringing his blade down with the entire force of his body, into the skull of the night beast. "irdurtscrelp now," he'll say, a relief in his tone as his feet finally touch the earth again as the mott's head dips lower and lower. He'll breathe a quiet shushing sound as the beast thrashes about in its death throes, his knife coming up to drag harshly across its throat. "irdurtscrelp."
[Siha]
"I KILT IT!" 'I KIWWED IT MOMMA!' 'I GOT IT, I GOT IT! DID YOU SEE UNCLE PAUL?' All called around the same time that Hopp claims his trophy. Percy's urging and coaxing had worked, the scared little kiddos having ventured forwards because if the dude in the weird flower poncho could do it, so could they. AND THEY DID. Feets do tippy tappy dances of excitement as the children all take part in the kill, weapons taken back and safely stowed, bright smiling faces bloodied by the kill, the elders and one wounded man looking on with delight, helmets taken off so that parents can drop down and touch foreheads and noses to their childs bloodied ones, the blood transferred to their own flesh with the gesture as they sweep kids up in for hugs, to swing them around, all other sorts of celebratory gesturing. Babies, clearly confused and not knowing wtf is going on because they're babies, cry as parents dip down to claim blood off the kill onto their fingertips, sweeping it to infant foreheads and nose before their parents, helmets off, press in to share the same sweet gesture of a forehead and nose kiss, complete with sharing of the blood.
Siha has done much the same, helmet off, grin wide on her face, hair braided back on either side of her temples and left in a kinky curled mohawk as she watches the scene of everyone celebrating, "We will feast shortly, but for now we have new members to welcome into our clan." Siha announces, hands dropping as the left lifts to wave at Sar Yavok still atop the beast, and to Percy, "The Blood Clan is many generations old, but not the oldest clan on Mandalore." Her voice lilts and carries through the field as she slowly steps back, making room in front of her, the parents with the babies stepping forwards and two of the other children moved into place by their adoptive parent/uncle before her, "We are the Blood Clan because of our ties not by the bonds of genetics, but by the bonds of blood we spill together and blood we spill when we are apart. Our brothers and sisters who can not be here today are here in spirit, and those who have passed before us but are still with us now." Helpfully one of the elders whispers for Percy and Sar to translate what is being said.
"Before we welcome our newest blood, we must remember those who are gone." A nudge of her chin, the atmosphere growing a little somber as voices raise up in unison, "I'm still here, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal." Siha then begins to speak a series of names as the other Mandalorians repeat names as well, Sar having heard this before, the remembering of the dead. It's only a minute or so, voices dying down and Siha moving to the beast to run her hands along the slit that Sar made, bloodying her hands further with the dripping crimson, 'Sar Yavok, Percival Blackwater, Zevia Ados, Toh Scips, Llocimal Dunwater and Retaw Dunwater, you have either been born from the womb or in blood to us in Clan Tal. You are welcomed today and have shared with us in a hunt meant to strengthen us and bring us together. We have other clans who have come to witness this joy with us as well, and we recognize Hopp Nooram and Daly Newtrip for being here todY. Sar and Pervical, stand before me."
[Hopp]
Hopp is still reveling in the spilling of blud, over there in the corner of the unfolding scene smearing the red drops down over the face of his helmet like some kind of freak. Of course, this is totally normal here because everyone present is a freak or a freak in the making. That's just how it works.
He wipes his blade off on his pants and then shoves the weapon back into its sheath on his belt, pulling off his helmet to let his wispy hair breath and light up a smoke. "Kriffing- kid, I- you- you people, I tell ya. I gotta take a big old hit of spice when I get home tonight, a /big/ hit."
[Percy]
Unfortunately, Percy's mando'a is... well, non-existent. He just hasn't been exposed to the language at all, so he is forced to deduce what is afoot by the actions of others. Mind you, it's quite clear that everyone is celebrating. The cheers, laughs and beaming smiles would suggest so. While allowing a smile himself, the pale skinned figure deposits the stun baton back into his medical pack with a sincere hope to never use it again. Lifting the pack from the ground as the mood grows sombre, he stays still in place as the others remember the dead. The extremely welcome translations from the elder earn a raised brow, blue eyes settling on him with a curious expression. With a small nod given, Percival takes a breath before standing up to attention in front of Siha, alongside Sar. With his medical pack now slung about his body, the Doc is still huffing as his heart rate struggles to recover from his first (and hopefully only) melee interaction. Sweat drips from his brow into his eye, causing it to twitch annoyingly.
[Sar]
"Thank you," Sar offers back to Siha, wiping the blood off of his blade and dragging it down across his helmet. The bloodied hand will clench into a fist and find it's way smacked into Siha's shoulder, before he turns to note Percy. "Good to have you, too, Percy."
[Percy]
Voices die down after the remembering of names, and Siha moves to the beast to run her hands along the slit that Sar made, bloodying her hands further with the dripping crimson, 'Sar Yavok, Percival Blackwater, Zevia Ados, Toh Scips, Llocimal Dunwater and Retaw Dunwater, you have either been born from the womb or in blood to us in Clan Tal. You are welcomed today and have shared with us in a hunt meant to strengthen us and bring us together. We have other clans who have come to witness this joy with us as well, and we recognize Hopp Nooram and Daly Newtrip for being here today. Those of us adopting new members in ..' Siha says to Uncle Paul and Momma Wally with a wink, "Let's get on with it and get these people into the family." Touching her face with her bloodied hands she'll move in front of Sar first to clutch his head, rising up on her toes a little as she drags his head down to press her forehead to his, nose to his, leaving her bloody imprint upon him, "I know your name as my child, Sar Yavok." A little bonk and a smile, Siha moving to Percy and waving him down to her level so she can do the same, the other parents also doing the same with their newly adopted kiddos, "I know your name as my child, Percival Blackwater." A pause, then in Basic, 'I know your name as my child, Percival Blackwater.'. Blood is left behind on him as well, Siha drawing back and nodding to the others, smile growing wider before she lets out a woop and yells out, 'All right, let's roast this beastie and celebrate!!'
The monkeys that helped corral the great beast are ones that have worked with the clan for a long enough time that the elders have forgotten just when it started, though tales are told of their relationship and kinship throughout the night in varying stories. The monkeys will claim the bones and entrails which will be left for them on the edge of the clearing once the beast has been hacked up, which is completed by the elders while the younger folk set up a great bonfire in the middle of the field, grasses wilting away and turning to char as the skies begin to darken. The injured are tended to and fawned over, boastful grins as words of praise are delivered their way, no one having died tonight, though such a death would have been regarded a good one. But why lament over a good death, when a good life is ripe for the taking, as Hopp no doubt saw tonight flash before his eyes.
Percy, through the night, will have the children asking for more stories while also trying to teach him the resol'nare, or the six tenants, in basic first, "Okay, okay, okay. Okay." One of the newly adopted boys will say to him as he's lit up by the firelight, hands in front of him, a super serious look on the blonde boys features as he stands tall before Percy, "So, um, it's ..uh, okay, I don't know it all in mando'a yet, but okay it's -" "It's EDUCATION AND ARMOR, LLOC!" One little boy screams out with a laugh, the blonde boy shushing the other, "I know! Shut up! Okay, education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language and our leader, all help us survive." He'll repeat this a few times, all the other children eager to educate the pale sickly looking man as well as that beast cooks and people drink.
For Hopp and Sar they're plied with booze and food, sharing of stories, elders getting raucous along with everyone else, some children coming up to Sar when they get bored of Percy to find out more about him and how he came to meet the clan, and isn't he older than Siha and isn't that weird to be her son now? It's weird, your skin is so saggy on your neck, you're so older than Siha.
Hopp, well, duh he's old, and one of the Elder ladies takes a liking to him, enticing him with spice and everything nice.
It's been a good Hunt And Clan Tal has grown by six.
From the darkness throughout the night gnashing of teeth against bone cracks in the air along with the fire, the monkeys enjoying their payment in full while shining eyes flicker in the firelight by the dozens.
All is well.
