a night of pondering

The air is laden with various fragrances as fires embrace pots of stew that simmer in the evening waiting for a hungry belly to devour it. The low hum of voices as couples walk along well worn paths talking of their future plans or remembering the past. An occasional clang or crack is heard as children play and some even practice various fighting skills to perfect their own.

Sitting on the platform of my wagon I take it all in, only the hissing of my own fire and the faint scent of sage disturb my peace. Like so many at times I catch myself reminiscing of things of the past and those of my past. Some I try not to dwell on.

It is interesting that my thoughts linger upon Garyx it is at times as if he is near but I know he is not. Also more often my thoughts drift to Tanner, I wonder often did he find his mother and sisters. I still have some of the tea he left me all those turnings ago. I use it only when I need to for it has a specific use and I have not been able to duplicate the mixture. I hold a small wooden box that holds many mementos of my life, the first teeth of each of my children when they lost it, the first gift from each of them, which have been rather unique themselves. Sentimental things I have kept from each of my matings for each one held something special regardless of what occurred or how they ended. Things that belonged to my father and grand parents. At the moment I hold a bracelet made of dark hair, Tanner had given it to me so that a part of him would always be with me, much like the feather and larls tooth from Garyx was for the same purpose, two very different men and yet very much alike in some things and also in what they believed in. Fate of course took them both from me, how is that for irony. I think that the time I have spent alone is the longest I have spent since my first mating when I was only eighteen.

I am not sure what makes me think of these two warriors. One has died and one has disappeared yet something calls to me in the night, beckoning me, drawing my thoughts to them I do not know why. I do know that some may say Tanner betrayed the tribe but I am not sure I agree with that for I have seen many do worse and yet have never had to stand trial or be judged. I can not say I have not done the same as he did, my own daughter when she was missing I left the tribe to find her I did not think of anyone else only the fact that she was in danger and dying, I knew she was, I had to go no force would have or could have stopped me. So therefore I also have broken that tradition at least once in my life. So I can not say I would judge him guilty. Yes, we all grew up with the teachings, tribe above all else, I know my father followed it to the letter, I have the emotional scars attesting to it. For the most part I think we all strive for this, but I think as humans we are flawed, we falter and we fail, is it then not more of when this occurs to look at the situation. I have seen many things that make what Tanner did seem like nothing. So that leads me to the thought.

When we say this, what do we really mean. In my heart I know what it means to put tribe above everything, it is first and foremost, the needs of it are above our own. But does anyone really remember what it truly means.

There is a meaning to it. We only need to look within to find the true meaning of tribe.

Not a one of us is perfect, we all fall and get up, that is not to say that repeat offenders get a get out of jail free card, for the elders that have gone completely off the path they have no further freebies.

But I think for that rare time when something occurs that gives you a moment of thought, then it should be examined.

For me tribe above all else comes from my heart, everyone is a part of me, I feel them, I see them hear them. Each heart beat is woven to mine, to love myself is to love them, to accept myself and my flaws is also to accept such of others. We must yes follow old ways but I think not in a regimented way that does not allow room for breathing.

No a free woman should not drink at the main fires and get drunk and act like a slut by being all over a man, but a free woman of the tribe can have some wine and enjoy laughter and respectable dance. There is the difference. A woman without a ring is not a woman a man would court she is not ready to be a woman that is unchanging, just as a man with no courage scar can not own a wagon a slave or anything until he proves himself. Just because some one arrives and says they are tuchuk means nothing if you lived as a dweller then you are a stranger regardless of your blood. There are many such things that have lee way and some that do not. If a woman submits to a man in public then she is a slave that is not even a question, but what a man and woman who are mated choose to do in private well that is something entirely different. Slaves have their place and need to be reminded of what their place is, Free women have their place and even a tuchuk free woman needs reminders of her place, A man has his place and even a warrior needs reminding of his place.

Everything and everyone connected and interwoven.

It is strange these thoughts of mine that seem to linger upon many things, the reason I am not quite sure.

Perhaps it is just old age creeping up on me. Or perhaps it is something else.

In the stillness

There is a stillness that has not been upon the plains in a very long time. Even the laughter of children seems softer not as exuberant, I have been listening to the winds of late, imprisoned in the enclave with the elders. Not that I really mind, what is out there for me to tend to. My mate has long been dead, I have not sought another I learned very quickly that the men of the tribe like those that are young,malleable and do not know the bonds of loyalty or love. If that is what our men have become, I am better off alone.

Family has all but become extinct.

Freinds are fair weathered freinds, they betray, manipulate and lie. And smile in your face as they do it. And yet knowing how you feel they push the blade deep into your back and turn it to slice up your heart until it bleeds profusely.

Children, they grow up and start thier own lives, independent and seperate from you, just as it should be. A male child earns his name when he can master certain things, some say it given by age but this is not so. Some grow up never mastering what they are to and remain without a name into adulthood.

Tribe, many have lost sight of what it means. There is no such thing any more and there has not been for a long time, we have become only a living faded memory of a glory that can never be recaptured and of a greatness lost. Old ways and traditions tossed aside and laughed about in favor of what is claimed to be the new ways, those are the ways of slaves and dwellers. Not tuchuks.

I begin to wonder if the epitaph has been written.

I have watched so many Ubars come and go in my life time. I have watched so many things over the many turnings I have lived, and I have shared in the joys,trials, failures and triumphs. But yet to those that are about I know nothing and have experienced anything, they think only they have felt the slap of fate. Truth is, they have yet to experience the things that truly make you or break you, only a couple can I say know just how harsh the life of a tuchuk is.

But, what I see now, in truth I am not sure this is a part of the plains I wish to reside in any longer. I cant be apart of something that is not true, embrace those that have no idea what it means to be tuchuk or tribe. I also can not follow what is not right or true just to say I walk to the same beat of the drum as you. I do not.

I walk the path of a haruspex, I have been born one I did not chose it chose me which is how it should be, I know the old ways, I am not flamboyant or flighty nor do I act like a slut in heat when bored or want attention. I do not play one man against another, or brother against brother, woman against woman. I do not go after a man when another has an interest, because a freind and tribe sister or brother would not do these things. I have been a daughter, a sister, a mother, a grandmother, a woman and a mate and a freind and advisor, a healer, a teacher and when need be a killer. So many things I have been I could not even tell you how to define me, because you could not. I am flawed, I am stubborn, I am fearless and I am generous and passionate. I can be vengeful if you harm what is mine, I will close you out when you lie and hurt me, rarely do you get a second chance, to me the worst thing you can do is lie and manipulate there is no honor or courage in it. But this is me. Not others.

When you cut the tapestry threads it unravels, when it unravels you cease to be.

This is why all the elders are not seen.

This is why there is silence.

This was seen so many moons ago in a dream. But no one listened. I was told I did not know anything and they went to another. They were told what they wanted to hear, by another that was popular and everything they felt I was not. Is it not sad that they had to learn that they were told wrong. A tribal sister asked why I did not correct them. The answer was simple they had to learn for themselves, every step a person takes leads them towards a path that awaits them I can only guide and teach, sometimes the teaching requires knowing when to let another find thier way themselves and to let things be proven to them naturally. I am only me, I dont bend my will for anyone, I am a part of everything and everyone.

Perhaps now, those that were blind will see , those that were deaf will hear. And to those that recalled my words, now you understand I speak true.

I still stand . I am still here. I have been long before you and so I shall remain long after you.

You know how to find me if you have the courage. If you dare. The mantle needs to be picked up. I can see who it is. But I will not say. They will come to me. then we shall see.