My Oak Tribe

Deep in the Forest

Oako's feet crunched through the snow beneath his feet. Although it is the middle of winter, he offered to find the first hunt of the week. 

His clothes keep the heat from escaping his body's grasp. They were hand-made by one of the tribe sewers after the first snow-fall came, signalling winter.

His father taught him everything he knows about hunting, like how to never let the prey know he's there, how to disguise his scent, and how to make the kill without startling the prey.

But his father no longer... He'll have to learn more about it by himself from now.
His mother would teach him, but as the head of of the tribe, she has barely any time to eat with him... In fact she hasn't spoken to him since three weeks ago, when... things changed.

He wished that things were different. He wished that three weeks ago... The dark sickness hadn't come. The other tribes had tried to warn them, but in doing so, infected his people. First came the coughing. It engulfed the silent night air the fist night the messages came to warn them. He heard his father turning and shifting in his bed. And muttering. He imagined his worried forehead, that he knew too well. Next came the death.

He was the tribe's healer. When someone was sick, they would call his father. And he knew that left him all too exposed to the sickness.

Right now, all he longed for was a sibling. Someone he wished he could share this pain with. Someone, anyone, who would understand.

His thoughts were interrupted when a rustling came from the bush ten foot from where he stood. He reached for the bow slung over his shoulder, made of oak and the thread carefully weaved of the stems of some oak leaves. However, when he saw a young doe hop out of the bush and sniff around, he slung it back over his shoulder, and instead reached for the knife strapped to his belt.

He walked back to Camp Oak, the snow crunching underneath his thick winter boots again. The gate to the camp that they stay at during winter loomed over you. He unlached the door and pulled it open, the snow building up beneath it and making them heavy. Although this was the same place he had left less than an hour ago, the snow had caved back in.  After a few minutes, he managed to squirm through the small gap that he had created, glancing back at the mound of snow behind the door. Pulling the door closed was much easier, as the snow was now cleared out of the way. He turned around and saw someone stumbling towards him. It looked like they were trying to run, but the snow was weighing them down considerably. Over the voices in the camp, he heard his name being called from the bundle of clothes that was stumbling towards him.

"OAKO!!!" she called, her voice muffled behind her scarf that was wrapped around her face.

"FERNE!!!" he called back, stumbling toward her. The weight of his hunt and the snow slowing him down to a stumble like his best friend. After an awkward few minutes, they met panting in the middle of the camp. They hugged and she looked at his hunt.

"Wow! Rabbit soup for dinner! My favourite! You remembered!" she punched his arm lovingly, like she always does when she feels vulnerable but wants to seem strong. "Let's go and take the rabbits over to the fire." So they walked over to the fire together, and Oako handed them to the man boiling the water ready for the soup.

"Thanks, Oako! These will make a great soup!" he remarked.

"No problem."

And he was right. After he spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and sharpening his knife and playing with Ferne in the snow, they heard the bells ringing for dinner. They saw the line for the soup, and they also saw them part at the sight of the tribe leader's son. This happened every meal. Oako was sick of it. He weaved through the broken line of people, Ferne at his heels. She always got hungry at meal time, and made use of being Oako's best friend. The man they had handed the rabbits to earlier happily poured the soup into the bowls carved of oak and handed them over to the two children.

"Here you go!" he cried cheerily. Ferne and Oako walked over to the seating area and began eating, as the lined regrouped. They both gulped down the delicious soup, and then Ferne looked at Oako.

"THAT'S THE BEST SOUP I'VE EVER HAD!!" she screamed.

"I know, its great!" he agreed. And while Oako and Ferne talked and joked at the seating area, they heard cries of gratitude to the cook and Oako for the amazing food. The cook's face went red and he looked at the floor every time a cry broke through the air. As for Oako, he smiled with pride at every cry. When the sun began to set, everyone sat around the fire and listened to the well-known tales from the past about the Black Portal of Sickness and how they broke havoc on the tribes, and how only The Leader can close the portal. Eventually Oako crawled into his bed, and fell asleep to the sound of the laughter of his
half

empty tribe.