Back again? Why yes I am, but this may be the last update for the week.

Thanks to all my readers for staying with this story. This chapter will start to answer some of your questions (and hopefully not create many more)!

Gigantic thanks to paskudNIK & Nippci for putting this story on alert, Tarbecca for adding this story to her favourites list, MajorWhitlock'sCowgirl & readingmommy for fav'ing and following and to sassygirl156, madkins, VioletDream13, frostedglaze & the two anonymous "Guests" for their continued reviews. Amazing, brilliant, wonderful supporters, every single one of you.

And patient...so very very patient...

Guests: If you don't want to sign in, that's totally cool but feel free to leave your name/nickname/secret identity. I'd love to give you the credit you deserve!

This chapter is from our mystery man's POV. It's the first step towards bringing this whole confusing story together.

Enjoy...

:-D

?POV

As I slowly open my eyes, I can feel the layer of sweat that had gathered on my skin while I was unconscious. I can see the tribal elders gathered around me through the thick smoke that filled the makeshift hut.

"What did you see, son?" my father asks.

"People," I croak, coughing to clear my lungs. "It was the same place that I travelled to before, but there were people. They looked lost."

A hum of curious voices rises around me but my mind is still too hazy to understand what they're saying.

"Our people?" I can see the hope shining in my father's eyes.

"No," I say, watching his head drop in disappointment.

For months we have been searching, looking for clues that could save the future of our people. Of all peoples.

Ever since we learnt that the human race was on the brink of extinction.

Our tribe has always possessed the ability to travel via the spirit realm to places far and wide in order to gather information from other cultures that will benefit our tribe. But it wasn't until the need arose did our future descendants find a way to use those abilities to travel through time.

When we were first visited by my great-great-great-great grandson, the tribe had been sceptical, but as the frequency of his visits grew, so did his desperation.

We were left with no choice but to believe him.

And the stories he told shook us to our core...

War had ravished the country and eventually the entire world, and with no-one to regulate distribution, food became scarce. With the quality of food declining and the population dying at a rate that made proper burial impossible, it wasn't long before illness set in. Entire cities were disappearing in a matter of months, towns only weeks.

The human race was dying out.

And by the time my decendant had shared all his knowledge about the future and spirit travel, there were only three Quileute left. When he didn't return the following month, we knew that our people were gone.

I turn to my father as the other elders begin to leave the hut. He looks deep in thought.

"What should we do about those people?" I ask nervously.

"Nothing," he scoffs. "We don't have to do anything. They are not our people, they are of no help to us. We need to focus on being in the right place and time to save ourselves. The white man made this mess, they killed our people. We will not be helping them!"

"But they were just kids!" I argue. "You didn't see them, they didn't look like they belonged in that time either. They were dressed like they were from another time, an earlier time. They could help us!"

My father's face slowly turns red with anger. His nostrils flare as he huffs in a deep breath. Not only is he my father, he's also the chief of our tribe and his word is final. He leans down towards me, so close that our noses are almost touching.

"I. Said. No," he says furiously. "And if you go against me and try to help those kids, I will find out...and you will be banished."

He gets up and storms outside, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Maybe these kids are like me, time travellers looking for a way to save their people too. Surely it would be beneficial if we worked together. I don't care what my father says, I need to go back and help them. I just need to convince someone to help me do that.

I can only hope that the strangers will still be there when I return...