The rules were simple:

Do not kill your fellow unblooded brothers.

Do not allow the enemy to beat you and then leave you alive.

Do not allow contact between yourself and any unworthy prey.

Come back with a skull or don't come back at all.

These were the rules for G'kata's Chiva. All he had to do was follow them, slay a worthy beast, and come back with it's skull. Then he would be the respected, blooded Yautja his father, the legendary warrior G'khon'thu, wanted him to be. Yet on the very first night, he had broken every rule his clan had set in place.

After many incidents involving the r'ka, the ancients had convened and unanimously decided that in order to preserve the rare species found on Earth, they would no longer host their hunts of the black serpents on that disgusting planet. The Ooman's were foolish and could not be trusted to leave the animals alone, and had on more than one occasion tried to manipulate the beast to their will. With no avail.

But despite the foolishness of Ooman's, many clans, including G'kata's own, still hosted many of their Chiva's on planet. It was left unspoken, but most of the Yautja landed in remote regions such as the sweltering jungles or the boggy swamps. Avoiding the pesky Ooman's since they seemed to destroy everything they touched.

And the jungle was supposed to be where G'kata and the two other Yautja had their Chiva.But something went wrong, terribly wrong.

The two other unblooded with G'katha were Yautja he knew very well. The first was Adtull, his closest friend. The other Erad, a cocky hot-headed unblooded whose lack of fear could be ratioed with his lack of self control. And G'kata had found that Erad had discovered his last nerve and had latched onto it for the entirety of the trip.

Adtull and G'kata had both been reared in the same home village on Yautja prime, and their mother's had been close companions. While G'kata had been running around, pretending to be an elite spearmaster while throwing sticks at the little lou-tde kales. Adtull had always been a small timid child, who was seen as many as unworthy for life and often bullied for his soft demeanor and small size. But G'kata had befriended him quickly, and gained a loyal brother in turn who often covered for him while he got up to mischief.

But that was long ago, before a clan of badbloods attacked their village, killing Adtull's mother and G'kata's father. With his dying breaths G'khon'thu had made him swear that he would become a great blooded elite like his father. And he did.

Both of the friends had grown up quickly, Adtull was now larger than most, with great muscles and reflexes with unique dark blue stripes. But despite drawing many of the female's eyes many were surprised to find Adtull still as quiet and shy as when he was a kid. Meanwhile G'kata's promise weighed heavily on his shoulders as he grew up, and no longer did he allow himself to be the mischievous kale he had once was. As he muscle grew on his bones and his mother trained him he looked more and more like his father every day, broad shoulders, strong muscles, long thick dreads with yellow skin smattered with orange red and brown .But his father had set terribly high expectations for his son, expectations he secretly feared that he would never fulfill.

The trip had been long and boring, quiet except for the prideful boastings of Erad who was quite confident in the hunt to come. So confident that he had filled the entirety of the trip with ceaseless chatter not only annoying G'kata but even the ever patience Adtull. Once they had arrived at Earth the two friends had almost ran toward the deployment Pod's connected to their home ship, if only it would help them escape the droning of their third member.

But something had gone wrong, after they had boarded their individual pod's to fly down to the Ooman jungle, "A-Ma-Zahn" the one tasked with entering the coordinates, Erad, had neglected to check the coordinates he had entered in. And because of that, his distraction had left one number go unnoticed, cementing the fate of the three Yautja. And instead of the three unblooded landing in the wild forests of Brazil, they had been taken thousands of miles north, in the middle of the worst of all the pesky Ooman tribes.

America.