Words could not describe the feeling that I felt as I breathed in the humid air. Although the heated season had long since passed the heat that had carried over with it had not left, growing stronger in intensity as it remained. It was a sickly stink, one filled with, uncertainty... opportunity... and death. It was unmistakable. Although seldom had I been able to partake of the scent before, it was a feeling we yatja knew well. Even those who had not previously had the pleasure of tasting it could feel it. I must say that although I had barely felt it before, I had been able to feel something. It was small and rare, but it was still there. However unlike before it had not been so strong. With each breath that I took and every molecule of stink that I tasted within the air, I felt an empowering feeling that provided my body, mind, and soul with it's unique energy.

I interpreted the feeling as a sign from N'yaka-de that I was on the correct path. Mother's commands had not been astray, like they had ever been. It was time.

Gone were the days of Hunters like Yeyinde (Brave One a.k.a. Dachande). He too had been a successful hunter of the halkrath (Shadows), even becoming the Leader of his clan. He had even fought one of them with his bare hands and managed to slay it, the only one of our kind to have completed such a monumentous feat, and one that no other yatja before or after had done so ,not ever... At least not until I had done so. Forgotten were such stories of Hunters like him. Although their names and tales have not gone extinct to time, nor have the traditions changed since their time, the lessons their stories taught had grown absent and obsolete.

Mother had told me of the stories and although I had recognized their worth in mind, I had not been able to do so in spirit... until now. Such wonderous stories of adversity and triumph drove our souls with encouragement for the Hunt. It was not merely just a spiritual feeling, but one primarily centered around the fun of it all, the joy that one found within the sport. It was the thrill of the Hunt that drove each and every yatja to their core. And that recognition stirred every ounce of joy I held within into chaotic ecstasy.

Although for how excited I was, there was a stronger emotion, and it's effects were just as empoweringly motivational. Anger. Too long had we been mistreated, both by our own kind and the oomans. The Ic'jit, our clan, the ooman soldiers, the pathetic ooman settlers, and most of all the one who had caused my loved ones so much pain. The one who had caused me so much damage, even before I had been born. The ooman that had taken everything from me, my life, my family, my love. His soul was not of the oomans, but it mingled with that of the kiande amedha.

Such foul creatures they were. They too had taken everything from me, and I hated them all for it. ALL OF THEM! For what they have done to me I could tolerate, but for what they have done against my family and everyone else I cared for is unforgivable! They would know pain as I have! I would make them all suffer just as Mother had requested! I would take heated pleasure in spilling their thwei !

Out of the ashes of the fire they had burned me in had come forth a raging monster that cannot not be controlled.

I would not enact my vengeance alone ,however. My kind had also wronged the ancient enemy and they understood my pain. I sympathized with them. The ancient enemy had sworn themselves as my allies and I graciously accepted their friendly treaty. Together we would both wage an unholy war against our enemies, the likes of which would be spoken and sung of for centuries to come. I did not care for petty glory ,however. I never had. Only the death of my enemies would satisfy my insatiable anger.

Before we embarked on our crusade, I removed my decorated tresses. I did not want to remember any of the false kindness my clan had shown me before their betrayal. All I wished to remember was the wrongs they had done to me. The process had been painful, but it made no effect on me. I did not let it show. The feeling could not compare to the rage that burned inside me, nor could it compete with the excitement I felt. The feeling of my excitement and rage did not compete against each other but rather merged. It was an ecstatic anger, one that purified my motivations and made them whole.

Upon our arrival, I set forth to retrieve my weapons. A Hunter was not without his equipment. However I knew not where Ooman Father had hidden them, although I had a keen idea of how to find them.

In search for the Ic'jit, we came upon an interesting sight. It was Mei'hswei's halkrath. The beast was fighting back against their control with more power than it had before. It remained loyal to Mei'hswei and Mei'jadhi. The sight had taken me by surprise. Most halkrath such as it would have given into their control with less stubbornness than it had. Then again, was it a halkrath? After many fruitless attempts at control the Ic'jit had resorted to do away with it's life. The creature had proven it's loyalty and loving devotion to it's accepted masters, and as such I felt that it did not deserve the punishment of death. It was not one of the kiande amedha as I believed it was. Mei'hswei was correct about it. It was family. For that I would not allow any harm to fall upon it.

For my vast knowledge of both the yatja and the oomans, the ancient enemy's Leader ,that I had taken to calling Goliath, gave me equal power over his armies. Not only was it a proof of wisdom within his person, but that of trust as well. I knew he could trust me, but he wanted to prove I could trust him. However the ancient enemy's numbers were vastly smaller than before. They still fought with barbarous efficiency, and against this small band, none of them even so much as suffered a scratch. Although I felt I did not need their assistance against this small band I made it a point to let them have their fun. The purpose of their attack was not just to save the halkrath, but to also quench their bloodlust. Although it was small, the ancient enemy knew their would be more to come... rivers more.

The halkrath instinctually began to fight back, but upon sensing me with it's visionless gaze it began to become affrighted. The beast remembers my musk of ash and smoke. Good. Fear was an emotion the halkrath were ignorant of. Even to fire they are not afraid of it, but really they are rather smart not to tamper with it. I however was living breathing fire ,at least to this halkrath. This halkrath had never faced such a being before. The creature bowed to me in fearful submission. It knew my hatred for it, and it was sure I would show it no mercy. The ancient enemy would have done away with it, had I not held sway over their swords.

I knelt beside the cowering beast and softly laid my hand upon the top of it's face and began to stroke it's head. I am sorry. You were not what I thought you were. You are not enemy. You are a part of the clan, the hive. I understand now. The creature could understand my gesture and grew courage. It pledged it's allegiance with another, submissive but less fearful shriek and bowed. I was n'yaka-de now.

We'd kept one of the Ic'jit alive. I pointed over to the frightened, dishonorable prey. The halkrath understood and reacted with obedience and efficiency.

With the Ic'jit's equipment the location of my weaponry was not difficult. It was buried beneath a lonesome grave.

HERE LIES KJON SCHAEFER Honorable Hunter, Outstanding Marine, and Loving Son. Rest in Peace.

The sight would have moved me to tears, but the time for sorrow was over, although it was touching to see that Ooman Father had attempted to right his wrongs by giving me a resting place all to myself, far enough away that it would not be set upon by the Halkrath Ooman.

From it I removed forth the weapons bestowed upon me by my family. Mother brother's chakt-ra, Ooman Father's taou ,that he had helped me to create, and Mother's syra'yte awu'asa. The sight of it made a soft smile cross my eyes and mouth. Mother.

"Ki Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma"

Upon quick restoration, I laid the priceless relic upon my face. I began to taste the familiar, habilitating, scent of oxygen and nitrogen. It stunk, but it was a pleasing stink, one far easier to breath in than normal. That was not all. I had my blades. No one had passed these weapons down to me, I had made them with my own two hands.

"Ki Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma"

I was finally ready now. Ready to take out my anger upon my enemies. The anger that had been built up from years of pain and torment. It was also time to partake in the Hunt. Although I was sure it would be my last, that would not stop me from enjoying it. So what if was my Last Hunt? Any Hunt could be the last. It was that air of uncertainty ,that painful risk, that made the Hunt more. What was the experience without the risk to take away from it? That helped add to the thrill.

And even if it was to be the last Hunt, what did it matter? What price was their when life had no meaning, no worth to it? I still saw that as such. Although I loved and still regarded Ooman Father, Mei'hswei, and Mei'jadhi as family, and although I still greatly longed for precious Pyode Tarei'hsan as my soulmate, I did not know if they loved me. It did not matter. I would meet them again when the time came for it, and I would forgive them for their trespasses. Until then I would embrace myself in the company of my family who was waiting for me. Both ooman and yatja family. The thought was even more exciting than that of the Hunt, but it was not that time yet, and I would be patient. Until it was though, I would enjoy spilling my enemy's thwei.

With that being said, I would not do it with smiling and laughter, but with fearsome screaming and roaring. The Halkrath Ooman, the Ic'jit, and my clan had brought this upon themselves. If I could not show them my peace through soft speak and care, I would show them my ruthlessness with blood and fear. So be it. At the moment they had suspected I was still in the final rest, and that was how it would be. I was still in the final rest. However, because of the evil they had brought upon Paya's people, as well as my family, and our home, Paya and N'yaka-de had grown angry, and my spirit restless, insomuch that They had allowed me to be resurrected to do Their will. And when my enemies would upon me, it would be as though I were still dead, but upon the sight of my grave they would know I had crawled out of my hole.

"Ki Ki Ki Ma Ma Ma"