[centre][h1]The Wuhdige Tribe[/h1][/centre]

Many years had passed, now, since the tribe arrived on the island, and the tribe had grown greater than its founders ever could have expected. There were now almost one hundred individuals, and the cramped cave was now neighboured by small pits in the ground roofed with sticks, leaves and dirt. There were a multitude of families now, some of which had even taken new names after disputes with their original clan, or just to distinguish themselves. Where the Wuhdige had been five lesser clans, it now consisted of seven, with Aga and Egwoi, together with their two children Hagwoi and Ege, breaking out of the Agoh family to form the Woiwoi family, and the Eliap together with his wife Joo had broken with the Elu after a dispute over rights to sleep in the cave. They had moved a little further down the beach and renamed themselves the Julu. While they kept in contact with the main tribe, they seldom willingly came over to visit.

But today they came. Today was a bleak day. The clouds were a mixture of gray and black, signalling imminent rain, no doubt. A circle of selka surrounded a single selka, placed upon a stretcher made of wood and hides. It was old Yupe, finally worn of life and thus had gone away to the faraway seas where the waves were made of fish and the sea foam was fresh, fatty milk. Tokuanhe, now an aged selka and in need of a stick to stand over longer periods of time, stepped into the ring and cleared his gruff throat. 

“Thank you all for coming,” he began. “We’re here today to remember our ol’ pa Yupe and share the good memories he gave us, uhm-...” The large selka snorted and cleared his throat. “Suppose I’ll start off, uhm… To me, ol’ Yupe was like my pa. Whenever I did dumb stuff with Odende and we got in big trouble, we was always there to help us out and make us, y’know, not do that stuff again. Yupe was-...” The was another sniff. “Yupe turned me from boy to man, people. I owe that ol’ blubberclump everything and,” yet another sniff, “and I’m gonna miss him, y’know. Gonna miss him real bad.”

There was a clap of fin-like hands and the giant stepped back into the circle. Next up came Odende, his bulky form rivalling the sheer size of Tokuanhe. The champion nodded respectfully at the chieftain and turned to the corpse. “Yeah, uhm… Like Tokky said, uh… It ain’t easy sayin’ goodbye to an ol’ pa. I-if fact it’s really hard. Dunno exactly how I’m gonna say it right, ‘cause ‘he was good’ simply ain’t cuttin’ it. He was more like… Uh… The best, maybe. He was really more of a pa to me than my real pa, and now I know what you thinkin’ - Odende, you can’t say that - but say it, I do! Yupe was the best pa in the world, and, uh… Yeah, and now he ain’t here anymore, so, uh… Thanks for everythin’.” For the first time in years, the giant with arguably more muscle in his body than its remaining contents, shed a deluge of tears as he turned back to the circle to the sound of applause.

Next up was Toku’e, Yupe’s wife. She sniffed a few times, leaned down and clapped the old selka affectionately on the cheek. “I’m gonna miss you, you blubberball. Many of you probably don’t know this, but Yupe actually brawled my first man for the right to have me.” There were gasps and somber giggles around. “Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, stifling a tear. “It isn’t easy to say goodbye to such a brave hunk of fat and fur who wanted to give his life for you to love him - I mean, how do you react to that?” She shrugged and looked down at the peaceful face. “Even now, it’s not really like he’s dead - he looks exactly like his sleeping self. I kinda…” A sniff. “I kinda wish I hadn’t seen him like this now, for now I kinda just… Expect him to wake up in a few hours.” He looked to the many women and girls around. “Take note, girls - this is what love does to ya. It, uh… Uhem! It gives you years and years of unforgettable joy and then, then punches you real hard… Right in the gut.” The ring could have filled a small pool with tears at this point. The old selka woman knelt down and planted a wet, near-toothless kiss the grey-furred head. “Thanks for all the fun, Yupe - I hope the great sea of fish is as full as they say. I’ll see you soon, I reckon.” With that, the female painfully rose back to her feet with considerable effort, her sons and daughters coming over to help her. Yupu gave one of his mother’s arms to Oduye, who had grown into a young teen now, and looked around.

“W-well, since I’m already here, I’m gonna say some words, too. Pa was--” There was suddenly a bright light in the sky and all the selka cowered with shocked screams and whoops. A beautiful bird with feathers like a rainbow and weird glistening stones on it descended from the sky and perched itself on a nearby branch. The selka all looked to it with great awe and curiosity. Tokuanhe and Odende along with their sons instinctively moved to the front line to defend their families. The bird cocked its head around for a bit, seemingly harmless. Elop smacked his scarred lips together and grunted. “Nice bird, but it seems uninterested. We oughta not ignore ol’ Yupe, though. Can’t send him off without a, uhm, sendoff.”

Tokuanhe rolled his tongue around his teeth and nodded. “Hmph, yeah. Just scared us a bit, ‘s all. Come on, everyone, show’s over. Back to thanking ol’ pa Yupe--”

“Good people of Galbar…” the bird began to speak and all the selka turned back, only to recoil a couple of steps as they concluded that the bird had indeed spoken to them. As it continued, the selka closed in around it, then recoiled again upon seeing the fate of the funny-looking bird-dog screaming inside the dancing lights. 

“Oof, that looks painful,” said Tokuhe as he scratched his head.

“Yeah, but what -is- that? Some kinda… Kinda-kinda-kinda…” Agu’e tapped his chin looking for the right word.

“That, boys, is fire,” grumbled Tokuanhe. The other selka looked to him with raised brows. The chieftain eyed Odende, who gave him a knowing nod. As the message reached its conclusion, the chieftain rumbled thoughtfully. 

“They put our spirits in rocks or we allow ‘em to cook up in the sky, huh…”

“Chieftain,” went Elop. “What is this ‘fire’ you mentioned?”

Tokuanhe furrowed his brow. “A long, long time ago, me and Oddy were hunting with my ol’ pa Tokuan. This was long before any of you kids were born, by the way.” Many of the pups and children hung their heads. The chieftain looked up at the bird again. “It was a rainy day. The sky flashed and grumbled. Pretty sure ol’ Yop up there must’ve had a pretty bad day - after all, -somebody- forgot to fill his offering bowl with--” Okako’e elbowed him in the stomach and the chieftain oofed. “Right, anyway, Yop had a bad day and was lobbing his flashes all around. Suddenly, right, this flash hits the tree -right- next to me, and I duck away. I look at the tree again and what do I see?” He pointed to the bird.

“That bird?” Agoi said confused.

“No, dumby! The fire! It was all over the tree and it was, like, super hot!”

Elop pursed his lips. “Like how hot?”

The chieftain furrowed his brow and umm’d. “Like, uh… Like when a lot of people are sleeping on top of one another inside the cave, and uh… Yeah, that, but a lot hotter.”

The surrounding selka nodded slowly. “Woah, that’s pretty hot,” Elop agreed. The chieftain nodded. 

“Yeah, it really is. So when I saw that bird-dog-thing get burned, I felt his pain, and I’m telling you all - if that is what happens after death, then none of us wanna do that.”

Jokuanhe raised his hand. “But pa, being stuffed into a cryssal… Cryspal… Cristel… A fancy thing sounds pretty painful, too!” He waved at the bird. “Hello, birdy! How big is the thing?”

The bird cocked its head at him, looking either very confused or not at all interested. Jokuanhe deflated.

“Went about as well as you thought it would, huh,” Tokuanhe taunted playfully.

“It spoke like a minute ago, gimme a break,” Jokuanhe retorted defeatedly. 

The chieftain snickered, but quickly put on a serious demeanour again. “Either way, I think going to sleep somewhere is a much better thing than dying in a fire, ‘cause fire’s bad.” He looked at the surrounding selka, who nodded more and more eagerly as the statement settled in. Tokuanhe smiled wryly and waved up at the bird.

“Hey, birdy! We’re interested. We don’t wanna die in a fire, thanks. You have our contempt.”

“Consent, dear,” Okako’e said patiently.

“I know what I said,” the chieftain retorted.

The bird stood perched on the branch, still as a statue.

“Pa, I literally tried speaking to it a minute ago and--”
“You shut up, boy, or I’ll--”

The bird suddenly flapped its wings and soared calmly over to Yupe’s corpse and perched itself onto his fat belly. Many of the selka gasped. Odende’s eyes grew wild with fury and he picked up a rock. 

“Dang it, Tokky, that ain’t a common bird, it’s a dumb, magical seagull! It’s gunna eat Yupe!” The champion lobbed the rock over the bird’s head. “Giiiiit outta here, you dumb seagull!”

“Pa, wait!” Dondo’e shouted and stopped him before he could grab another stone. The bird suddenly flew up in the air and flapped around in circles as if chasing invisible prey. Then, as unexpectedly as it had taken off, it landed right back down on the selka’s belly. On its wings suddenly grew an uneven clump of colourful rock in a slot on the funny, shiny stone thing, hard to see, but visible nonetheless - though not to the selka with poor eyesight, so a few of them went, “What’re we looking at?” Once the rock had formed, the bird pecked at it gently, gave the selka one last look that both could have denoted curiosity and disinterest, and flew off. 

The selka stood there scratching their heads. “Woah, that was not how I expected this to happen,” went Tokuanhe.

“What did you expect, dear?” Okako’e asked with her hands on her blubbery hips. The chieftain shrugged.

“I’unno! At least a flash or something! Like, uh, like fire, you know!”

“I thought they were all about no fire, though,” Elop said with a confused shrug.

“I mean, they look like they are, but-- Ugh, you don’t get me,” Tokuanhe muttered and kicked a rock. Okako’e giggled and grabbed his arm affectionately. 

“One question about fire, though,” said Eliap with a raised hand. Tokuanhe gave him a suspicious frown.

“Make it quick, lil’ Julu,” he grumbled and Eliap gulped. There were still some sour bonds between the great clans and the new ones, and Eliap had to tread carefully to not invoke the chieftain’s ire. He swallowed and nodded.

“W-well, you see. Inside the cave, it may be really nice and warm, but, uhm… As soon as you leave it, it gets pretty cold, honestly - especially during the winter, and--”

“You know, you chose to live that far away,” Elop snapped sternly and crossed his arms over his chest. Eliap shrank and nodded. 

“Y-yeah, we did, but still--”

“Look, Eliap, boy,” Tokuanhe began and sat his large posterior down in the sand with a quiet blam. The other selka all sat down, too, a circle forming around the chieftain, Elop and Eliap and his family. “We don’t want you four living so far away - really, we don’t.” Joo nuzzled their youngest, a nameless furball, at her breast while their oldest, Julup, a small, playful pup, ran around his parents in circles. “Your kids, they-... They gotta run so far to play with the others. I mean, we’ve had this chat before, I know, but--”

“We’re fine,” Joo said aggressively. “Your worry is nice to hear, though, thanks.”

The chieftain grumbled. “A boy without play becomes a pretty dull man,” he cautioned, but as Eliap was about to speak, Joo cut in.

“Look, chief, we’re really happy as we are. The downbeach is nice and calm, and really, we’re fine. Just fine.” In the crowd, Jokuanhe looked down at his partner, Julempe, who covered her face with an embarrassed palm at her sister’s words.

Elop gave Eliap a worried look. “Right,” he said and sighed. “So, what was that about fire you wanted to ask the chief?”

Eliap closed his eyes sheepishly and nodded. “Right, uhm… Yeah, as I said, it gets pretty cold, so I wondered if you know how to make fire, chief. We don’t really have anything to warm ourselves other than, well, each other.”

The chieftain pursed his lips thoughtfully. He dug some nearby old bones of a fish out of the sand, picked the longest bone and began to pick his teeth. “Alright, see, I get your problem. It isn’t easy to stake out of your own, and trust me, it’s even harder to be the family who gotta watch you try and try and hear you always turn down our help.” He shook his head and spat out some fish scales from breakfast. “Can’t really help you, though - both me and Odende only ever seen fire be made, but dunno how it’s made. Sorry.”

Eliap hung his head and Joo stared daggers at Tokuanhe, who returned the stare with an innocent shrug. Then, however, Odende rose. “Actually,” he rumbled, “that’s not entirely true.” All the selka turned to the stern champion in surprise and Tokuanhe pushed himself to his feet.

“What, you saying you know how to make fire?” the chieftain asked, to which Odende shook his head. 

“Dunno how to make it, really, but I got some ideas.” He shot a sideways glance down at Eliap. “The boy and the girl deserve it - they’re brave to set off on their own. After all, our pas and mas weren’t no different, Tokky.”

At this, the chieftain nodded. “What you got in mind, Oddy?”

The champion scratched his chin. “You know that time we had that rock throwing game, right?”
“Which time? The one with just you and me? Or with just the boys? Or the whole tr--”

“The one with just you and me,” the champion specified. The chieftain nodded with a “yeah?”. The surrounding selka leaned in as if their chat was getting quieter, which it really wasn’t - if anything, the excitement increased the volume. 

“Remember when I hit the cliff with that rock and these funny lights came out of the cliff wall?”

“Uh… I may not have been looking,” the chieftain admitted. “But I think I remember that you got really excited all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that was it. I hit the cliff,” he made a flat, standing palm and punched it with his opposite fist, “with the rock, and these lights came out of the wall.”

Tokuanhe nodded slowly, the other selka looking a little confused. “But how does that work?” Elop question. Odende shrugged.

“I dunno! Maybe I threw the rock so hard the cliff started to cry?” He did a quick flex and several women giggled flirtatiously. “Either way, when I saw this magical seagull and the stuff it showed, I recognised the cliff-tears in the fire, so here’s my idea: Fire is made when things like trees are touched by cliff-tears.”

There was a collective “ooooh” among the crowd. Agoi raised her hand in protest.

“B-but Tokuanhe said the tree was hit with a flash and then caught fire? How do you explain that?”

Odende put his hands on his hips and smiled smugly. “Why, that’s quite simple - you see, the flash was just ol’ Yop throwing something really, really, really hard, because he was in a bad mood, and it hit the ground underneath the tree, which was also rock!”

Agoi squinted. “But how can a tree grow on ro--”

“Shut up, it works, okay?” Odende snapped. Agoi huffed and crossed his arms over her chest. Odende looked at Tokuanhe who was scratching his chin thoughtfully.

“Well?” said the champion. “Wanna try?”

Tokuanhe looked down and raised a brow. “Weeeell, uhm… Guess it doesn’t hurt to try. Well, after we finish saying goodbye to ol’ Yupe.”

Odende blinked - as did the others. “Oh, right. Sure.”

And so the selka finished up the last rites before they carried the stretcher off to the sea, swam out a distance with the corpse in tow and dropped it. As it sank to the bottom, some tears were shed, but most of the crying had been done during the speeches. Now, however, it was time for something completely different.

In a hurry, the selka gathered dry sticks, dry leaves, dry fish - really, just anything dry they could find. The experiment required a proper sample, after all! Naturally, the chieftain had not used those exact words: “Find whatever you don’t want or need. Need some good stuff to burn, people!” At last, a sizeable pile had been made and rocks of different shapes, sizes and colours had been gathered. To warm up, Odende did several rounds of push-ups, sit-ups and jogs around the camp, much to the cheer of the girls and women. Tokuanhe gave him a slightly envious scowl.

“Alright, alright, you warm yet, Oddy?”

“Yeah, hold on - almost,” he stood up and lifted his arms over his head, giving the onlookers a proper view of every muscular dent and crevice on his torso, “done. Phew!” 

“Odende, you’re so handsome!” came a shout from the crowd and the champion smirked.

“I swear, every darn week,” Tokuanhe muttered and snatched the champion’s arm, pulling him along as he waved to the crowd. Meanwhile, his two sons snickered and shook their heads. 

Once Odende was in position, he picked up a rock. A target had been painted on the cliff wall in fish blood, and the champion had never felt more certain that this was his purpose. With a move like a rubberband, he threw his arm back and catapulted it forwards. The rock flew through the air with great speed, the air itself parting before i--

[i]Clack![/i]

It smacked against the cliff wall and fell inert to the ground. Odende gaped and Tokuanhe hummed pensively. The surrounding selka let out a collective “aaaw…”

“Maybe try… Harder?” he chieftain suggested.

The champion picked up a second rock and scowled at the cliffside. “You think you’re so tough, huh?!” he snapped at the cliff.

“W-well, it’s rock, pa--” Donwah began. 

“Shush, boy!” the champion retorted and powered up a second shot. Once again, the stone soared through the air, its initial speed like a diving hawk, a stone of heroes, it was, as i--

[i]Buck![/i]

This one, too, fell inertly to the ground. Odende’s face turned a shade of pink and Tokuanhe shrugged. “Maybe the cliff just doesn’t feel like crying toda--”
“RAAAAARGH!” Odende roared, then grabbed five rocks and proceeded to throw them one by one. “YOU. WILL. NOT. MOCK. ME!” The final rock smacked into the wall with a flat [i]nuck![/i] and then smacked against the rocks below it. The surrounding selka all stared at him with saucer-like eyes. Odende picked up the final rock and got ready to throw it when Tokuanhe put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Oddy, just lea--”

“RAH!” the selka shouted as he tossed, but his form was destabilised by Tokuanhe’s interference, sending the rock on a sideways spin. “Bah! Tokky, look what you made me do--!”

The rock smacked into the cliff wall, this one conveniently at quite a satisfying angle, and indeed made the mountain cry. Sparks jumped from the stone and over the dry materials, igniting them in a near instant. Odende and Tokuanhe looked on in awe as the surrounding selka celebrated and shouted, “Hurray! Fire! Fire!”

A few sparks then skipped to the nearby roof of a burrow, immediately setting that on fire. “Oh no,” went the selka, “Fire! Fire!”

Tokuanhe grabbed Odende’s shoulder. “Oddy, how do we make it stop?! I don’t remember!”

The champion shrugged wildly. “Hey, you asked me to make fire! I have no idea stop it!”

The chieftain stared in panic as the fire hopped to another burrow. Oh, why did they have to dig them so closely to one another?!

“Uh, uhm! Quick, offer it a fish!”

Elop lobbed a fish at it. It did nothing, save sizzle a little.

“It didn’t work, chief!”

“Uhm! Offer it a fancy stick!”

The selka quickly began to search for fancy sticks, until Jokuanhe raised a hand in the air. “Wait a minute,” he called out. “Sticks are also wood!”

“Darn it, you’re right,” the chieftain cursed angrily. “Uh, uhm, cover it up! Maybe it’ll go away!”

Grabbing the largest fur they could find, that of a bear they had brought down a long time ago when it raided their fish stores, the selka charged at the nearest fire. They took deep breaths and covered one of the burrows with the hide. Sure enough, the fire soon died out as it was choked to death. The selka looked at one another and celebrated. 

“Hah! We did it!” Tokuanhe cheered until Okako’e punched him in the gut.

“No, we didn’t, you blubberball! That was -one- fire!” She pointed to every other burrow surrounding the cave entrance, which were all on fire. Then, the hide they had used to put out the one also caught fire. The panicking selka all gathered on the beach, staring as their outdoors homes went up in flames. 

Then, as if ol’ Yop had taken pity on them, it started raining. The fires began to hiss and fizz as they battled the rains, but alas, they could not conquer the superior power of water. The selka stood staring at their half-burnt camp. Tokuanhe and Odende looked at one another sheepishly.

“W-well,” Tokuanhe said to Eliap who looked on in horror. “Now you know how to make fire, huh.” The chieftain elbowed the boy playfully and turned to his tribe. “Right, so, there was a teeny-tiny accident - BUT we learn as a big family not to dig our burrows this close together again, and hey, nothing of value was lost, hmm?”

“Literally -all- my things are gone!” came an outraged cry from the back.

“Yeah, okay, so -some- things of value were lost. But nobody died, right?”

The crowd was quiet as selka looked for their family members. Nobody said anything, so the chieftain clapped his hands together. “See? No worries, then! Burrows can be redug and re-, uh, re-roofed!”

The selka gave him sheepish looks and the chieftain rubbed his nose. “Alright, let’s get cleaning, people.”

With a collective groan, the selka began digging around in their still hot, collapsed burrows. One of them, Aguhe, dug through the charcoal sticks and found a charred fish. She gave it a suspicious stare, but she did indeed feel quite hungry, actually. Since she already held a fish in her hand, she shrugged and bit into it. Her eyes went wide as the flavours entered her mouth and she shouted, “Chieftain!”

Tokuanhe came over followed by Jokuanhe, Tokuhe, Odende, Donwah and Dondo’e and eyed her up and down. “What? What did you find?” 

Aguhe held up the fish. “Here! This is actually really tasty?”

“Is that the fish we threw into the fire?” the chieftain asked suspiciously.

“Yeah! Try it, try it!”

The chieftain grimaced, but eventually shrugged and bit into it. A few chews later and the fish was suddenly shared around for all to try. It was an entirely new sensation - a crisp, bitter skin with a warm, almost flaky interior. The selka all grinned maniacally at one another. 

“What should we call this, chief? I mean, it’s fish, but it’s not just normal fish!” Yupu said with a chuckle. 

The chieftain thought long and hard, humming all the way. After a few minutes, he grinned and raised his fist into the air triumphantly. “It shall be known as firing!” The surrounding selka all clapped and chuckled, then danced around the camp all night shouting, “Fire the fish, fire the fish!”

[hider=Summary!]
Timeskip a decade, yada yada. There are now 7 clans in the Wuhdige - in addition to the main five, there are also the Julu and the Woiwoi. The scene is set at old Yupe’s funeral. He died of old age and everyone’s hella sad. In the middle of the funeral, however, comes an Alma with its message. The Wuhdige don’t actually know what fire is, so the context is a bit lost on them. Then it turns out Tokuanhe and Odende know what it is, ‘cuz they saw lightning hit a tree one time, and says it’s real bad. The selka then agree that crystals are probably nicer and agree. The alma snatches Yupe’s soul and flies off.

The selka are then left to ponder. Then one of them Eliap, who is part of the new Julu clan, asks more about that fire. However, nobody knows how to do it, until Odende says he may have an idea. According to him, rocks that hit rocks make the rocks cry sparks, which set fire to things. Thus they set up a place for muscly Odende to throw rocks at the wall. He fails three times before succeeding on the fourth. Then the pyre sets fire to their whole camp. But hey, at least they learned how to grill, sorry, fire fish from it, right?

The end.
[/hider]