Goov stooped nervously over the dying embers of the small fire he had started the night before. He was tense and anxious wondering what would become of The Clan after all that had so recently transpired. Their future, although on no occasion fully ensured, had never before seemed so uncertain. The position of the Leader, Mo-Gur, and the Medicine Woman had all passed hands, of which only the former leader, Brun, still walked this world. The only thing that Goov could be assured of now, was that their Totems were not pleased with any of these sudden changes. Not pleased at all. Many years ago they had angered the spirits in some grave way, causing them to send a great earthquake that had killed numerous people that had started their search for another cave. Even then the spirits had still led them to the cave they now called their home.
Their totem's approval, love, and mercy were apparent then. Many years of prosperity followed their move in which the clan grew and thrived. It seemed to all that their totems had never been as pleased with the Clan. As of late however, there was no love or mercy. Now the totems that had walked with The Clan for countless generations showed them only fury and heartache, if they hadn't abandoned them entirely. It was a thought that filled him with a creeping sense of dread. If there were no totem's watching over them, they would surely die.
What am I supposed to do? Goov thought to himself as he coaxed a fire back out of the newly invigorated coals. This isn't what the spirits want. Everyone in The Clan can see that Broud is not a leader befitting of his line. Brun always put The Clan's needs before his own ego and personal opinions. When it comes to Broud, the son of Brun's mate, it is obvious that his temper clouds his judgement and leads him to brash decisions without even considering the impacts that they may have on The Clan. Look where he has led us now.
He glanced at the pile of stones at the back of the cave and sighed. Oh Mo-Gur… If only you hadn't been called to the spirit world. I will never come close to being the magician you are. I have been in this cave since midday yesterday, and still the spirit's messages are shrouded in a haze that I cannot see through. I can only assume that we have angered them so much that they have indeed left us this time. How can we ever survive without our totems? Have you left us too, Ursus? Why did you have to call The Mo-Gur back to your side, great spirits?"
His mind raced trying to make an impossible decision. Could anything be done to appease the spirits? He grunted as he sat back against the wall in the small cave. The growing flames lapped gratefully at the pieces of firewood and he tried to relax his mind again. There were so many issues that had fallen on his stout shoulders in the short time since he himself had been named Mo-Gur. It still didn't feel right to him, and he feared that it never would. Less than a Moon's cycle had passed since that fateful day marred by Broud's ascension to leader, the death of "The Mo-Gur," and of course the girl's death curse.
The final unforgiveable sleight to their totems was the death curse, he was sure of it. In all of the times that she had done something which The Clan was sure displeased their totems, it was made clear that she was anything but displeasing to them. From the start, luck had followed her, despite her peculiarities that The Clan were certain would continue the spirit's ire. If anything, it was those peculiarities that the totems welcomed to the unchanging ways of The Clan like the first glimpse of swollen buds waiting to burst forth after a frozen, undying winter.
Her totem itself was one of her oddities. He was the Cave Lion. The second most powerful of all the totems, up until this time he had reserved his protection for only the strongest of men. He had come to her, or rather her to him, shortly after she had lost the family she was born to in the same earthquake that had so drastically changed the life of all in the area. He made it clear to her newfound family that she was his chosen by marking her with their own symbols of his protection. Rather than the traditional right side where men were marked, he had chosen the left. Although the marks were on the wrong side, there was no doubt that they had been left by a cave lion and to anyone who knew her, there was no doubt that she was favored by the spirits. Everyone, save for Broud.
It was the girl that had found the cave that they now resided in mere days after being found clinging to the last lingering threads of life her small body contained. Iza had taken pity on the dying child and brought her back from the edge of certain death. After her wounds had started to heal, and her emaciated body had enough nourishment to regain its youthful vigor, she grew restless traveling on Iza's back. Iza allowed her to explore their surroundings while the men discussed whether they should continue on their journey, or if they should turn back in their desperate search for a new cave. Just as Brun was about to announce that they would go no further, he found his sibling Iza in a kneeling position with a noticeably anxious request for his audience. "Cave," was all she could manage to intelligibly communicate in her excitement over her strange child's lucky discovery.
The girl had once heroically saved Ona when the toddler was nearly swept out to the great sea during the chaos of a fishing trip on the coast. The clan would occasionally make trips to the nearby coast when the sturgeon were migrating upriver in order to continue their ancient lineages. Only the odd girl with her long arms and light bones was able to swim, and it was a pastime that she could never help but indulge regardless of the strange looks that it evoked from others. Swimming was one of her favorite things as a young child, even before she was adopted by her Clan family. Without thinking of her own safety, she swam after the child as she was swept closer and closer to oblivion. After nearly exhausting herself, she managed to overcome the immense power of the sea and carry both of them back to the safety of shore.
It was also the same girl that had saved the son of Broud's mate, Brac, from the Hyena that threatened to end his short life on the mammoth hunt. Despite the fact that women were strictly forbidden from even touching weapons, let alone using them, she didn't hesitate to quickly fling two stones at the ugly creature with the sling she kept hidden under her wraps in front of the whole clan. Its repulsive life was ended in an instant, and the boy's short life saved from a horrendous ending. His arm was broken, and without Iza there to set it back in place, the girl was the only person able to attempt the task. She had only watched Iza set a broken bone, however she was able to set the bones back to their original positions, and now years later the boy's use of the arm was complete and unimpeded by the injury whose only signs were the marks of the hyena's teeth. Had she not been there Brac would have surely perished, and even if he was miraculously saved in some other manner, he would have ended up a cripple without a medicine woman to set the limb.
Her greatest feat had been surviving the spirit world for an entire moon after she had been cursed with death for her use of the sling that fell the awful beast. In spite of the fact that blizzards raged for the majority of her banishment, she was able to survive. Her return days later than expected, wet and exhausted from trekking through the deep snow blanketing everything in sight, astonished every member of The Clan. How had her spirit found her again after such a long journey to the spirit world? How had her body survived the harsh climate awaiting its reunion with her spirit?
Despite this heinous departure from Clan tradition, her totem made it clear that she was an exception. He had allowed her to hunt, as the lioness did for her pride, and after a long deliberation Brun allowed her to hunt as well. She was only allowed to use her sling, however she was much more adept with the hard to master weapon than anyone, even Zoug, the old man whose favored weapon in his old age was the sling. Her skill with the weapon was due to more than just a result of long days practicing on the predators and scavengers surrounding the cave. It was her physiological differences from people born to The Clan that made her such a deadly force to her prey; her arms were longer, more dexterous, and had a much larger range of motions than her adopted family whose arms were stouter and more fixed in their motion.
It was no use thinking of the strange girl now. She was dead. His first act as Mo-Gur had been to curse her with death at the maniacal insistence of Broud. Broud had become outraged when she defied him, and tradition itself, in front of the entire Clan. He had ordered the old, arthritic magician to move to the wet and drafty back of the cave. His former hearth, the Mo-Gur's hearth, was given to Goov despite his attempt to allow his crippled mentor to stay where he had been ever since they claimed the cave. Everything happened so quickly thereafter, and he seriously wondered whether they had all been cursed with death when he placed the sacred cave bear bones and called upon the ancient ones.
Though nobody wanted to discuss it, they had all seen the conversation between the current and former leader. Everyone knew that the two men had seen the girl's spirit, for they could not help but watch the events that followed Goov's exit from the cave. Somehow, they were still alive despite these greatest of sins. Once a person had been cursed with death, The Clan could not, would not, see them for fear of being tricked into joining the spirit on its mysterious journey to the other world. There was something about the way this particular spirit acted after it's death though that caused disquiet amongst the people who couldn't help but see, despite their best attempts at submission to Clan tradition. It didn't appear that it wanted to trick anyone. In fact, the boy that been born to her, Durc, begged to accompany her along the journey that all would eventually be compelled to endure, and she had refused him.
Their cave was in complete ruins after the series of large earthquakes, and smaller yet no more disheartening aftershocks. Although they had not left the cave yet, they all knew that their departure was not only inevitable, but overdue. The moon had almost returned to it's appearance at the time of the earthquakes, and life had been strange living in their hide travel tents huddled together just outside the cave. The only person who had entered the cave after the discovery of the former Mor-Gur's lifeless body had been Goov. If he had a choice in the matter, not even he would have entered the forsaken cavern that had at one time been so welcoming, but he was obligated to be The Clan's channel to the spirit world in this time of great need. Finding a new cave was an extraordinarily difficult task. Although caves were not an uncommon feature of the landscape, a cave which was large enough to contain the growing clan and be close enough to favorable hunting grounds and easily accessible water was a rarity.
The only other option was to journey to the other Clan's caves in hopes that they were willing and able to accept a family or two, which seemed like an even more insurmountable burden to undertake. It was not uncommon for members of separate clans to mate and move to their new mate's cave at the meetings that were held every seventh summer. It was extremely uncommon for this to occur at any other time, and almost unheard of for a clan to disband and join with others of their kind. Besides, who would want unlucky people to join their Clan? Nobody could deny that they had brought the wrath of the spirits upon them. Why else would they have forced them from their homes twice in the course of his short lifetime?
I am not welcome here any longer. The spirits have heard all that they care to hear from this unworthy man. The fire snapped and spit blazing embers into the mess of thick, dark hairs coating his muscular legs, as if to confirm his trespass into this holy place. He stared into the swirling mass of fire for a few more moments before he rose to his feet and started out of the cave. As he pulled his bulky frame through the small opening, he froze. No. I couldn't. The spirits would never condone it, and what if Broud found out? He would kill me with his own to hands, no death curse needed. Unconsciously, as if his body had been overtaken by an outside force, he shifted his weight back towards the cave. The fire cast a warm glow over the chalky walls of the small room. The shadows it cast seemed to give life to the fleshless skull with the bone sticking through the eye socket. He stooped down and reached towards the ritual artifacts and again froze.
This action could be the very end of his Clan. In all of his memories, he could not recall any Mo-Gur doing anything even remotely similar. To not only go against his leader, but to go against his training, his memories, his duty to his people. Was this going against his duty to his people? Or was it rather his duty as protector of his people from the fury of the spirit world? How had he been put into such an unforgivingly, impossible position. His fingers brushed the smooth white bone surface of the once massive beast's skull. Great Ursus forgive me.
