Tents and small wooden structures dotted the snowy expanse of the north - One group of these groups in particular was currently dragging in a fresh kill from the nearby waters. A seal, a fairly rare find considering the small size of the nearby lake - it would feed the tribe for a day or two, an impressive feat considering it's large size. One of the hunters chuckled slightly - his grandfather once said that when he was young, they would always burn half of any meat they found in sacrifice to Hayim, so that he would provide good harvests and the health of the tribe would prosper. His grandfather would always make the most humorous face when he told the next story, of how Hayim first came to the tribe and scolded the elder for burning perfectly good food - it made the hunter laugh every time he was reminded of it. The small boat they used was bare bones, and easily remade, but one of the hunter's dragged it with them while the rest carried the seal - waste not the bounty of nature. The group of four spent nearly nine hours hunting, but the tribe would be ecstatic to have such exotic meat. The Hunter's daughter especially loved the fat that was stacked onto beasts. By the time that they had dragged the carcass through the forest and to the village, they were shocked to see that every single member of the tribe had gathered next to the Chief's hut, many baring baskets laden with fruits and various medicinal herbs. The group dropped their kill when the crowd parted, and a small creature barely coming up to the first hunter's knees walked towards them. [color=a36209]"Yay! Chief say that brave hunter's come back soon, and here you are! Hayim very happy-happy everyone here now!"[/color] One of the men next to the hunter immediately dropped his spear, ran forwards, and embraced the small creature in his arms, taking great care not to cause undue harm. [b]"Hayim, you have returned! I have prayed every day that you would come back so I can thank you for healing my son your last visit!"[/b] The small god, spreading it's small anther to try and emulate the hug, spoke after a few seconds of the embrace. [color=a36209]"Hayim glad to see you too, Mugun. But, when you done carrying seal-friend, can you take bathies? Friend stink like wet dog!"[/color] Many people in the tribe laughed at this remark, but the hunter was still in shock - Hayim visited once every month or two, usually bearing hundreds of pounds of fruits that lasted weeks at a time, and healed every single member of the tribe with a single touch. The hunter's father even said that Hayim was there for the hunter's birth - the fact that the god was so present in their lives was what made them worship him so much more than the other gods. The Hunter was extremely thankful that his group caught such a good kill, since the feast they would have for Hayim's arrival would easily decimate their food stores, and having extra meat was always a pleasure. [hr] The Feast was the greatest in at least a year - the chieftain even thanked the hunters in a speech in front of the entire tribe. The hunter didn't feel it was deserved, however - the seal was gone after everyone had seconds, and the rest of the feast was almost entirely composed of the fruits that Hayim spawned liberally. His daughter, who had been complaining about a hurt tooth, was now munching on a large pink fruit the size of her head, a yellow tooth with a small cavity lying besides her on the ground. The Hunter found his gaze shifting to the idol of the tribe's worship, sitting on the ground and surrounded by the village elders and many of the children. He was eating a green fruit with red flesh inside, and answered questions and the like with the same bubbly and excited voice that the Hunter knew from his youth. Hayim was how they learned of the other gods, and while several in the village worshiped other gods (The old shaman that lived in the outskirts favoring Dirka specifically), the hunter could not remember any ever appearing in the village during his lifetime. It was strange, thinking about how the small creature that acted like a child was far older and powerful than the hunter would ever become in his lifetime. Upon the completion of the feast, the moon high in the sky, the small god stood up and spoke, his high-pitched voice commaniding the attention of every person present. [color=a36209]"Hayim very happy-happy that he spend such a great time with friends! Hayim love everyone in village!"[/color] As if the god actually said something with deep, philosophical meaning, the entire tribe erupted in cheering and applause, some of the children even crying with joy. After nearly a minute of cheering, the noise died down, and the god spoke again. [color=a36209]"Hayim love friends lots and lots! But, it time for Hayim to go - friends want come?"[/color] The tribe, this time, was silent. It wasn't outlawed, but it was frowned on in the tribe to follow Hayim unless they were an elder - the young were expected to stay and help keep the tribe afloat. The Hunter had wanted to raise his hand on more than one occasion, especially during the winter months, but he would never abandon the tribe for such a simple reason. After a few seconds, a hand rose in the crowd. [color=a36209]"Yay! Maggie want come with Hayim? Hayim love Maggie!"[/color] The old woman walked forwards, possessing a stride better than most her age should possess, almost exclusively attributed to Hayim's constant healing. Magdalyn was at least in her 90's, and she was a respected member of the tribe thanks to her knowledge of the area. She was going to be missed, but no one in the tribe looked upset to see her go - they knew she would be taken care of. She smiled slightly as she spoke. [b]"It is an honor of the highest order, Hayim. I cannot wait to join our ancestors in your garden."[/b] [color=a36209]"Maggy too fancy! Hayim friend, not boss!"[/color] The Hunter, along with several others, laughed. Magydalyn always stressed that treating Hayim with respect was the most important thing to do when he came, even though the god seemed totally oblivious to how one spoke to him. After a few more minutes of chatting and Hayim depositing hundreds of fruits, the pair walked to the base of the tribal tree, the largest in miles and the tree that Hayim always came from when he visited. The god stopped briefly, and in almost slow motion, a small seed bearing legs was spawned from his back, before dropping limply to the ground. [color=a36209]"If friend's want visit or feeling hurties, Hayim make new friend to help visit - Name is Seedling!"[/color] Almost immediately upon hearing it's name, the small seed sprung to life, eliciting a few shocked gasps from some of the younger girls in the tribe. [color=a36209]"Ok friends - Hayim go now! Love friends lots - Hayim visit again soon!"[/color] The pair walked into the tree, seemingly disappearing into it's massive trunk. After several minutes, a plume of dust appeared , carried by the young god. He said no goodbye when he left that time, only whispering to the chief as he quickly collected the ashes in a small jar. The tribe dispersed a few minutes later, planning for the funeral tomorrow. The hunter was one of the last to leave, his daughter asleep and carried on his shoulders. As he turned to leave, he saw Mugun staring at the point where they vanished. The hunter walked and clapped a hand on his shoulder. [b]"We got a long day tomorrow - we should avoid eating the gifts Hayim gave us since they last so long, so we'll need to hunt some food fast. Don't do anything stupid, alright?"[/b] Mugun's eyes flashed towards the small seed, the gift that Hayim left behind, before he looked at the Hunter in the eyes and nodded. The pair walked away from the tree, eventually separating when they reached their respective tents. [hr] Fields stretched onward, rolling hills that extended beyond the fields of vision for any one person. Boundaries were nonexistent in this realm - a constant expanse, the ground so laden with plant matter that it was difficult to walk without finding some vegetable or a small cluster of flowers. This realm was not without markers, however. Dotted across it's surface, always clustered around the trees that are placed across all parts of the realm, small pockets of civilization are located, in the form of tents and huts. Hayim appeared in such a location, a small tribe located next to an especially large tree, accompanied by a young woman. She looked down, seeing the wrinkles that come with age have completely disappeared and her skin was once more youthful. Tears wetted her cheeks as she realized this, and these tears flowed freely and with great vigor when many of the village members came to hold her. Hayim turned to leave, having already had his day of play, when a voice called his name. Turning, he saw a young man, face filled with a satisfaction and completeness that was difficult to imagine when the sin curse existed. [color=a36209]"T-tomin. H-hello."[/color] [b]"Greetings, Hayim. I trust you remember what we talked about three years ago?"[/b] The god looked down, petals drooping. The man, seemingly oblivious, continued. [b]"When the last of my descendants came here, I said I would like to leave. May we go now?"[/b] [color=a36209]"H...Hayim no think that good ide-"[/color] [b]"You have my eternal gratitude for everything you have done for me. I know that many in the tribe here are thankful to live like this forever. I'm just not meant for eternity. I wish to join Azhriel. Please, grant me this last request?"[/b] Nearly 20 seconds passed before Hayim wordlessly took his hand, and was dragged to the tree. [b]"Thank you."[/b] The second the pair passed through, the man was nothing more than a cloud of ash, slowly drifting to the ground. The village chief grabbed a pot and quickly began to gather the substance. Hayim whispered in his ear before running through the Tree once more. [color=a36209]"Tomin, son of Maktor."[/color] The chief would later write the man's name on the pot, and the next day, the funeral service would progress as normal. [hr] Three days after Hayim's visit, the village was no more. Nothing but a pile of ash and looted grounds. The fruits had all been taken, and the lack of life told everything that the lingering scent of smoke might have failed to. The hunter looked around, the anger he felt being drowned in a sea of despair, the large rabbit dangling at his side. He dropped everything, running to where his tent once stood. Nothing except a plank of wood and a single, long piece of rope that was once attached to a wooden harpoon. The man began to walk towards the tribal tree. It, of course, was burned to ash, nothing remaining. Blood and severed limbs were scattered throughout the village, and the chiefs old, withered body was left in front of his hut - charred black from flame and smelling of burnt hair and flesh. He was one of the few bodies that was left in the village. The Hunter, after nearly 30 minutes of searching, didn't manage to find anyone still breathing. The only life that managed to survive the flame was a single seed, with small leaves stretched from it's base to act as legs. The Seedling. It walked over to the Hunter, and with a touch, he felt his aches and pain fade slightly, his cuts closing themselves slowly. It may have tried to help the others, but the hunter realized nothing would have stopped such an intense assault. Even still, it took every ounce of his willpower not to grab his spear and chase after the tribe who had done this. He needed to warn others before he went and sacrificed himself. Grabbing the seedling, he made his way to the nearest, friendly tribe - the Cavern People. [hr] Hayim found nothing when he returned to the village. He heard prayers in his dreams, and upon hearing of such dangerous events going on, he went to the village as soon as he woke up. Of course, he was too late - everything was gone, ashes or worse. This was not the first time that Hayim had experienced this, nor would it be the last. Finding nothing, Hayim returned to Akhuz - he didn't feel like playing that day, or the next. Maybe on the third day he would visit another tribe. For now, he would do nothing but make seedlings and try to nurse his intense sadness with seclusion. If there was any benefit to being so sensitive, it was that Hayim would bounce back quickly. Who knows, maybe he'll be so angry at the attacking tribe that he'll attack, or order his followers to attack? As if.