It had been nearly one full cycle of the Big Night Star that cast it's waxing and waning night time glow across the Great Forest since the celebratory Renaming Feast in his honor. It hung now as a sliver, giving little illumination and hardly visible through the foilage. Doewahnaka sat tending a small warming fire that burned within the small central stone pit of his hut on the outskirts of his tribes tree-village.
He belonged to the Teto tribe, their Chief- Teto, a synonym for any blunt-force weapon, governed as his name implied. The Tatanka-Spider incident had put the Teto on much more friendly terms with the Chirpa than prior, and this shift in tribal politics caused great concern among the Obotto- who occupied a wide tract of land along the stream between the other two. Their long standing dominance over the several adjacent tribes relied upon the weak relationships between them.
Though he had just been ceremoniously elevated to a Grand Intertribal Shaman, he was no single tribes serving Shaman, and thereby had no entirely reliable allies. To make matters more problematic, he now counted among his adversaries his own Tribes Shaman, Gorrogakak- who saw the previously inept student of magicks as an upstart and a threat to his own standing among the Teto, as well as his Shamanic Peers in the numerous other tribal shaman of the Forest Folk.
Thrust to prominence for the first time in his life, he pondered these changes and what might come next. He rubbed his paws together over the fire, then stood and leaned his staff against it's usual resting niche of the simple wooden branch framed and thatch-walled hut. Removing his cloak, his golden silk stitched headscarf and his satchel, he hung them together on some form of pronged animal horn that protruded from the wall near the leather-curtained doorway. He reached within the latter and pulled out a small cloth pouch, then producing a small stonework bowl and mortar, he dumped in and ground up some type of dried organic or mineral at a small workbench before returning to his bedding furs by the living, dancing red, orange and yellow pile of warmth.
Sitting on the floor with stubby legs crossed and pulling the furs around him, he gazed in to the small fire and performed a kind of ritual pattern of motions with his left paw- touching his forehead, heart and drawing shapes in the air, then tossed a pinch of the ground substance in to the flame. They produced a marvelous show of pops, sizzles and whines in a rainbow of colored light and smoke, the fumes of which produced a sweet aroma in the local air and drifted upward out the open vent hole in his hut's roof.
He repeated this several times intermittently over the succeeding many moments while concentrating upon the aesthetic display and practicing a rhythmic breathing pattern, attempting to enter a kind of focused spiritual state that he'd hoped would offer some clue or sign on what the following days may hold.
The evening passed in to the depth of night and the small fires of the few dozen huts in Teto village slowly died out to embers as the inhabitants drifted off to sleep amidst the unblemished natural upper forest canopy and the symphonious night-time ambiance of a thousand other resting or nocturnal forest creatures- large and small..
TBC..
Still the number one threat? BEARS!