Parents
Sa'sem
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It was an unexpected encounter. And right before the hunt and it's festival. This was Kyra's first big hunt. It was the hunt. The herd only passes through once a season. It was an exciting time.

The hustle and bustle of the clan in overdrive to churn out arrows and spears. The weaving and the totems. The ceremonial clothes. This ceremony and hunt would also mark her oneness with the clan and bind her to her family. The physical hunt, the dream hunt, and then the festival the following night.

It was a lot to plan for, but the clan was well organized.

Kyra would handle weapon making and clothes making for herself. Everyone was doing something. Except Ka'un.

He was lost in his mind. Looking at Kyra, looking at what he was making. Looming over her.

Kyra didn't tell anyone what happened. She was afraid she'd get in trouble for making a bond with the tree of voices too early. But anyone could tell that something had happened.

With this time being a busy one, Tsu'tey was doing a lot of heavy lifting when it came to the work load. This left him with little time to think, only time to do. He was organizing a lot to take stress off of Eytukan and Mo'at. Both of which were doting on Kyra from afar. Mostly Eytukan who saw the warrior in her.

"Fì'eve, Kìra, oel kame nìtxan Sylwaninìri mìpeyä."(this girl, Kyra, I see much of Sylwanin in her.) Eytukan said, "livu tutet, txo poe emroley."(who she could've been, if she survived.) he noted.

"Oel kame nìteng. Poe lu maweypeyyu, lenrra, lenomum. Släkop tìsraw seri."(I see it too. She is one who is patient, proud, curious. But also hurt.) the Tsahik replied, "Poeri holan peyä tsmukan. Sylwanin holan fra'u."(she lost her brother. Sylwanin lost everything.) she murmured.

"Mohel sweylìyu plltxe hu peyä."(we should speak with her.) Eytukan suggested, "nume nì'ul teri peyä."(learn more about her.)

"Maw sätaron."(after the hunt.) Mo'at confirmed.

And without knowing, she continued her work diligently like any other person in the community.

My parentage was not always clear. My mother was obviously my mother. All I knew about my dad was that he was white, blonde, British SAS, brown eyes, had an interesting mask collection. He died when I was eight.

I knew what I got from him was valuable. I was a tall girl, built like a mountain, made to fight bears in the cold. Whatever I remember of him was his voice, his words. His encouragement. He was a good dad for however long he was with me. He'd take me out for ice cream every-time he'd come back. He'd reserve the weeks he had for Mom and I for family time. Of course, he always did his best to make birthdays, holidays, etc. I met his captain, my god-father. I just called him uncle mustache until dad passed. I called him pops after that. He married my mother, made her very happy. Not as happy as I remember, but happy. I know for certain they're dead now. But I got to have two dads and a mom who loved me and I didn't get to show it back.

It's shameful. I know I'll never see them again.

"Alaksi srak? Kolan sätaron."(ready? For the hunt I mean.) Ka'un asked, grasping Kyra's attention.

"Huh? Oh, sran, alaksi oel lu." (Yes, I am ready.) Kyra stuttered. She got back to weaving her clothes.

"Ma Kìra... oel new lawk moeru."(Kyra, I want to talk about us.) he confessed, "oel kolä'rìp nga krra fe'krr. Tsap'alute si."(I pushed you in a bad time, I'm sorry.) he apologized.

"Kekem lu fwew txoaru. Tsan'ul."(do not look for forgiveness, be better.) she recited. Her dad taught her that.

"Don't be sorry. Be better." He scolded in his deep toned voice, his accent curled around the words. Mom had a thing for brits.

At the time, she lied about test scores to get her dads approval. The next test, he stayed up all night helping her study. Listening to old rock and something called Phonk on the TV while researching how the fuck to math good.

"They fuckin' changed math." He groaned and leaned back in his chair and pinched his brow. He got himself some water and returned to the table with mom on his shoulder.

"Language, Simon. She's gonna start talkin' like you do if you keep that up." Mom scolded and began ranting in pidgin Hawaiian about how her parents would whoop his butt if they heard him talking like that.

"Maybe it'd do 'er some good. She could use a strong Manchester accent and some good swears to use on those punks." He cracked his knuckles at each joint he could.

"And that too, bad for your hands." Mom scolded.

Dad just ignored her and continued helping with the homework.

"Kìra? Ma Kìra? Ngat leyr soli."(you froze) Ka'un commented.

"Oel... fpìmìl."(I was... thinking.) Kìra admitted.

She sat up and finished off her clothes and gave Ka'un a small smile and went wandering to see if anyone needed help. More likely that it was an excuse to get away from Ka'un and these sudden thoughts.