Chapter 2: The Valley-field

The wind blew against Maheegun as he and his companion Jargo raced across an open field in the Deep Forest. It was the first time either of them saw fresh daylight. They had spent the last four days walking through the dense vegetation that grew there. Maheegun had whispered a thanks to the World Spirit for bringing them nice weather. He had tripped over an old camp fire stone, and was laying on his back gasping for air. He had done it. he had beaten Jargo at a race; and it wasn't one of Jargo's off-days. He was so happy. As he tried to lift himself up, Jargo had come over and licked his face saying,

'Well Done, brother. You are now officially where you were five summers ago, a pup! ', Jargo said with the most sarcasm in his tone. Wolves show sarcasm too! And Jargo was not pleased with being out run by a tailless, even if he was his pack-brother.

Nights shortened finally and Maheegun had set up camp in the valley field. No trace of 'Them', he thought, and no trace of the sickness either. That night they slept relatively well, awoken a few times by the worry of not sleeping well.

Morning came, and with it, breakfast! There were several rabbits washing in the morning dew. Many of them big enough for the two of them. Maheegun had fashioned a throwing club and snares made out of willow twine he was able to rescue from his pack. By the time the sun was up, Maheegun had caught two big rabbits, along with a deer he was able to shoot. He cleaned the rabbits and the deer and tanned the hides for clothing and packs. Next he had dried the venison up on a rack and was smoking it with juniper branches and lingonberries. The smell made his mouth water. The rabbits were then skinned and gutted and one rabbit was cooked for the day, the other was dried for later use.

He used the bones for fish hooks, arrow tips, spear tips (which he stored in his new pack) and scrapers for the hides. Nothing was wasted; he didn't know when they would get another chance to stock up on supplies and on food. The blood was made into sausages, the brains were used to tan the skins, the teeth were used to make jewellery for his future mate (If he managed to get one) and the hooves to make strong glue.

Everything was great, he had Jargo, his beloved wolf companion, and he had the Brethren of the Fire-Keepers, whom he must still find. But the fact he was there in that valley field, it made him feel so alive and happy. A place he may never venture out of, this, to him, felt like home.

' Never leave me ', Maheegun said to Jargo who laid beside him that night.

' I wont – at least not that often.', Jargo joked, '….. but we must leave this valley, it's cursed. I sense it - trust me! ', Jargo felt bad about this, but he had the need to stand by it….

' Leave the valley?! But this is home! '

' No this ISN'T home, brother. Trust me! '

Silence stood between them. Maheegun was now mad at Jargo, but something inside him told him otherwise. He was mad and sad and guilty all at once. He was going crazy. Was it the valley, or maybe it was the sickness? Despite their recent argument, Jargo had to get Maheegun out of the valley, and as fast as possible……

Maheegun awoke the following morning with a jolt, he was not in the valley anymore, but underneath an old oak tree up on the western ridge. His pack-brother had dragged him all the way there, during his sleep. Yet, Jargo was nowhere to be seen. He was positioned facing another oak with the bark scratched off. This was the same for all of the trees in that direction. Jargo was clearly showing Maheegun his path. Maheegun gathered his pack and followed the trail of the scattered bark.

'Stupid dog…..gets me out of my comfortable environment, drags me up a mountain….stupid dog..', he mumbled to himself as he walked along the ridge.

He stopped when he heard the drums of the Auroch Clan. He guessed they were celebrating the all too great wedding of their leader, young Belktru. Maheegun had heard about this warrior, apparently he was as strong as an elk and had more determination than anyone in all of the clans. His mate was a young girl around nineteen summers named Oktla. Maheegun knew this because Oktla was his lost cousin from the Willow Clan.

After his long rest, Maheegun set back out to find Jargo. Was this Jargo's way of getting Maheegun to move faster? Is he playing, helping, or is he really gone? Nothing was for sure. It was a long time before he realized where he was…but he hoped he was only a day walk to the Brethren meeting. A day walk from definitely defeating 'Them'. The thought made Maheegun was happy, that one thought made his day brighten up. Grinning or smiling was rare for him, only when fully content would he smile – and that would be brief.

Jargo was found licking his hind-end in a near by stream. He was happy to see his pack-brother, he paused from his bottom-licking and let out a whine,

' Are you ok? You look real rough !',

' OOOH! Well now……I wonder why! ' , and with that, Jargo leapt on Maheegun and licked him all over.