Jremsterey scratched his rough stubbled chin. Churminek should have been back with the cow.
He looked towards the harsh silhouette of the man-town. Its shape offended him and he often
contemplated how to turn it back into the curve of earth and cut and edge of rock and sway and
reach and green of tree.
Ttemokamme was by the fire, swaying slightly, gazing off towards the herd, likely pondering the
blend of time, universe and immortality as he was wont to do.
Jremsterey used his great giant club; ancestral weapon of his clan passed from father to son for
over one thousand years, to scratch an itch he could not reach.
What to do about the missing Churminek?
The night drew in and the air grew chill but Jremsterey did not feel the cold, it was for him a gentle
caress upon his weathered skin. The herd was gathered and he stood silent at the edge of Camp.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the smells of the Plain entering his nose and lungs. As
they travelled through him he identified each part and imagined himself moving back the way the
air had come.
White tundra cotton, fresh tundra grass, the hard smell of cold rock, the warm musty dark smell
of wolf, sharp green tree, sweet lavender, dirt, cobbles, subtle scent of mountain flower, dry ashy
wood smell of man-fence, crisp bitter leeks and Churminek.
The smell of Churminek reached him and Jremsterey's eyes opened. He blinked his small eyes
slowly but could not see as far as his nose could smell. He breathed deeply again shaping the parts
he found - cold lifeless blood, flesh changing from body to meat and bone, stink of cold steel sharp
arrow points.
Churminek who was, now gone into the place of waiting until the return. Form as was, now
same as dirt, now same as food, as air and rock and animal, part of all that surrounds, all that is
life and land and home and purpose.
Churminek would come again and his tribe of Brothers Three would sing songs of his return, not
with voice to be heard upon the Plain, but as shining thoughts between their own minds. Each
would mark their skin with Churminek's rune and when he sees them again, he will know them,
and they will share their tales and Churminek would know all again.
Jremsterey turned and lumbered to the fire and the Tree. He let his arms fall, his body still, his
eyes close and he slept.
Churminek would come again.