All across the seafloor awoke the teeming excitement of the hunt. 

Dozens of Akua had collected on the outskirts of the village, preparing their traps, harpoons, and nets. The village itself sat down in an undersea ravine, nestled comfortably in the tight confines of the enclosed rock crevasse. Above the ravine was the typical preparation point for supplies and equipment. It was on that rocky face, dotted with corals and colorful undersea flora, that the assembled hunters collected themselves. A shaman walked amongst them, offering prayers to the druidic gods for safety in the hunt and success in their ventures. Most of all, though, the hunters boasted.

“I will take the largest tuna, I think!”

“No, lolo, that can’t be; the whole school will be mine so there’ll be nothing left for you to catch!”

“Hah! Big shark gonna’ be mine for the taking and all you will look at your tunas with shame!”

“Pah! Young, unscarred soft-scale talk! I’m going to take a whole whale back to the village!”

To the uninitiated it might have seemed like a bunch of braggarts at their favoured art. In truth it was part of the ceremony. Young hunters, those newest to the group, needed these sorts of early-morning sessions. It got their hearts beating, challenged them to do their best, and most of all gave them the sense that the band wasn’t afraid. There were great horrors in the sea despite its teeming gifts and hunters faced the reality that they could potentially never return. The threat of sea serpents or deep drakes or even vrool seemed far less apparent when the older members of the group gladly boasted their success before it even was earned. Instead the attention was set to preparing their equipment, making sure knots were tight and coral points were sharpened. It was, all together, a far more productive use of time. 

A blown conch echoed through the water, calling all attention to its low pitched hum. It was time.

Kapono Tama'Mano o'te'Ui-Ki'he, Ali’i of the village of Hohono, sounded the conch once more, the second blast symbolic of preparations complete. Setting the conch onto the fishhook at his belt, Kapono addressed his people in the Holy Vonu as was their sacred tradition. The Ali’i, chieftains of the Akua, were all well versed in Vonu by the kahuna, those shamans who spoke and prayed to the gods. Gentle currents emanated from Kapono as he intoned the rightly given call to the hunt. A shared prayer was given out, silent and kept to oneself, at the final word and the kahuna gave thanks to Klaarungraxus for his numerous gifts and bountiful seas. 

The hunt was on.

Up the hunters swam, children and mothers kept below and well out of sight; it was ill omen to let them see their husband’s and father’s backs, after all. With that they ascended and swam outwards towards the reef, the skilled and aged hunters of the group directing the several dozen hunters on their path. The goal would be the large schooling fish, of course, but anything that could be caught, speared, or netted would be good enough to eat. The women would later leave Hohono later to gather from the crop-fields, prepping a full feast for when the men returned however many days later. With that the village of Hohono was separated, to be made whole once again by feasting and celebration.

[hr]

[abbr=”Alright, once you’ve prepared the nets, I’ll throw them out, alright?”]”Hxowaii, choi xxii-wii tsompei h’aii xosa-he, j-wa t’ang cho-wei choo, ha?”[/abbr] whispered Mynt softly to his son.

[abbr=”Alright!”]”Ha!”[/abbr] responded the young lad, checking the final stretch for any weak links in the net. They shared the limited space on top of what could generously be called a raft - it consisted of eight palm trunks tightly bound together with vines, fiber and sinew, mud, dirt and clay stuffed in between the cracks to tighten it further. Still, it could barely hold the two of them, and Mynt had repeatedly warned his son off of standing up or crawling too quickly. Around closer to the shore were five more rafts like theirs, these in neither worse nor better shape than Mynt’s. It was clear that their raft wouldn’t allow them to catch too many, but if they were lucky, they could catch just enough to feed themselves -and- have a bit extra to trade for some delightful perfumes.

[abbr=”Ready, father!”]”Xosa, pah!”[/abbr] the son whispered enthusiastically. Mynt clicked his tongue approvingly and smacked his lips in anticipation as the pair rolled the net off the side of the raft and then proceeded to both lay down perpendicular to the raft’s length, their backs nearly touching the water. There, they waited.

Deep below the raft the hunting Akua watched. Most clung to rock and reef though some tread water freely. Their hunt had been going fairly well as evidenced by the fish hanging from their lines but now this trespasser was making things difficult. The school that had once been thick and thriving had parted ways, separated into more difficult to track streams that would regroup further afield. Not easy for Akua, that’s for certain.

“It’s the smell,” said one of the elder huntsmen, his dangerous looking twin-barbed lance held in a bored and disinterested position off to his side, “Fish don’t like it.”

A chorus of agreement rolled between several of the other elders followed by nods and ascensions by younger hunters, learning from their superiors and desiring more than anything to fit in. Kapono pondered this as he stared up, his cowry shell and sea-reed shoulder cape flowing around him in a surprisingly noble posture. As Ali’i of the village he had dealt with the night elves frequently; the village of Hohono abided and freely traded with the Pako’Ano tribes of the Mahina’Aina. The Mahina, the name the Akua dubbed the Night Elves with, were a friendly lot generally and so long as both sides paid homage to their respective traditions they got along just fine. Nevertheless, tempers sometimes flared.

“Ali’i, these are our waters. Why not tell them to go back to ground?”

Kapono turned and eyed the speaker, giving him the stink-eye enough to silence him quickly. It was a younger boy, fit and strong; he’d make a good warrior one day, of that Kapono had no doubt. Nevertheless, this was not his knowledge to speak on. Several of the elders grinned, flashing sharp white teeth as they saw the boy realize his err. Before he could apologize or offer recompense Kapono kicked off his rock and hurtled in front of him. An example had to be made. There was a dread silence as Kapono came to a stop before the boy, treading water before him imperiously. With middle finger pinned to thumb tightly, Kapono lifted his hand in front of the boy’s head and let loose the hurricane force of his finger. 

[i][b]*Thunk*[/b][/i]

The boy, for all his muscles and power, flinched and winced at the impact. Before him Kapono floated, the mighty chief looking upon him with clear condemnation. To other races it might have seemed an utterly benign scene but to Akua, it was clear the boy had been censured. After a long moment of staring down at the boy the Ali’i broke eye contact and the young hunter bowed his head, offering a quiet apology. It was clear he took it well and for that he’d be given respect in future, perhaps even awarded the first cast of a harpoon when something big was found. Humility in defeat was a respectable quality.

“It is kapu to treat your neighbors poorly,” echoed Kapono, using his mastery of Vonu to double-speak in both his native tongue and the holy language of the deep. It carried his voice across the sea floor, bouncing and rippling like a tide, “They might live on ground but they are our neighbors and ohana. I will not hear talk of treating them poorly again. We walk on ground for meat and fruit, so they sail our waves and swim our seas. It is a good uncle who lets his nephews and nieces take what they need.”

“And I am a good uncle.”

With that Kapono rocketed upwards, his fins kicking only once; that would suffice. He reached the surface and popped up above, making sure to do so far enough away not to frighten. Having dealt with their kind often, Kapono kept his voice down as he called to them.

“Aroha, family. It is good to see you on the waves. Soft currents to you, brother and nephew. How goes your fishing?” 

The son nearly lost composure and rolled off the raft before his father could stabilise him. The father clicked something to his son, [abbr=”Just lie here and keep the raft stable, alright?”]”Xxoch-la - jjoen xo-xo-t’haisa, ha?”[/abbr] and then sat up carefully, clicking his tongue invitingly at Kapono. He then covered his ears ever so slightly and spoke in a hushed, yet squeaky voice, “Arroha, kk’oppeng. To yah ssoft korrentss . Yah ha-ha too ssee, too, ha. Aot, uhm, out… [i]Xii-wii, xii-wii[/i] - feeshin, ha?”

Kapono tread water before the surprised duo of nelves, staring with unblinking eyes towards the father as he collected the situation. The Ali’i of Hohono had some command of the Mahina though could not make all the noises required. It was to his relief then that the man showed he could speak Ku’Ano. Thick accent or no, Kapono smiled as he heard familiar words pass through the nelvish man’s lips.

“Ya-ya friend, fishing. But that’s with pole and hook, we hunting today,” he replied, lifting his bident from the water non threateningly. There was a moment of silence before Kapono lowered the bident and broached the subject, “So, friend, I must ask you; your fishing is a little uh… fragrant, brother. So, kk… kkoppeng, I have a proposal for you. You take your rafts towards shore, farther away from shoals, and I’ll bring you a big proper fish for you and yours. Nothing you could catch with your line, eh? You give me some of your shells you grab up from shore for a good trade. Howzat sound to ya?”

The night elf scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue through pursed lips. “Ha, neh, ova’ t’ere ssee . Pperson mahny, too mahny. Neh feesh,” he clapped the back of his right fist into his left palm to underline the statement’s importance. He pointed to the shoals with an intentionally shaky hand. “To shore k’o, one feesh k’et.” Then he patted himself loudly on the chest with a flat palm. “Here, may’pe more feesh k’et. Kk’oppeng [i]safayss[/i], uh, knows, one feesh not [i]xoinah[/i], enoff.”

Kapono frowned inwardly, staring back at the night elf man. It was clear he was willing to work with the Akua and for that Kapono felt indebted to do right by him, but the request for more fish was a frustrating one. One fish he could ensure he could catch; after all, he was an Ali’i, so for him it would be easy. But two? Three? Each new fish would weigh down his line and make his scent more apparent. Fingers rapped away at the top of the raft before an idea plunged into his mind. White, pearly, sharp teeth were revealed in a pleased smile.

“Okay, Kkoppeng. More fish, bigger fish. I give your people one propah fish an’ one real big one. Howzat? Feed you real good. We dealing?”

The night elf sucked pensively on a tooth. Next to him, his son let out a whine. [abbr=”Dad, what’s taking so long?”]”Pah, chiakk-si rru-lao?”[/abbr] The father squeezed his foot reassuringly and turned back to Kapono with narrow eyes. “Offa’ ha-ha k’et, [i]ru[/i]--... X’ow beeg we talkin’?”

“Shark,” was all Kapono said, a wry grin continuing to show itself broadly across his blue scaled visage. With his left hand reaching out far to the left and his harpoon thrust far to the right he indicated the length of his intended prey. It would be easy; all the killing often brought such creatures anyway. They were not so difficult to kill, no moreso than a large seabass or giant tuna, and they would be easy to find. A good sized shark could feed a village plus the teeth could be used for all sorts of things.

“Whatchu think, family?”

The nelf sounded impressed, sucking spit between his teeth and sticking out his lower lip. “Si-mak’, kk’oppeng, si-mak’. ‘Keh, we [i]lushweh[/i]-- pattle bahck - yoo brink beeg feesh-beeg feesh. Two, hein?” He clapped the back of his hand again. “Yoo ssay two.”

“Yeh, yeh, friend,” responded Kapono quickly, waving the nelf towards the shore, “One fish, one shark, like I say. You get some things for me from shore and we make real trade. Shellfish, coconut, I don’t care. Just keep off the water while we’re out and you’ll get your share, ey kk…. kkoppeng? Good.”

Kapono grinned and waved before letting himself descend into the water. A huff of bubbles escaped his lips before her turned downwards and threw up a shaka towards the collected hunters. He would have a little less fish on his floor for the evening but who could set a price on peace and being neighborly? He spun with a swimple kick of his legs to face the other hunters who now stared up at him with bored amusement. It seemed that he had succeeded, at least, for the loud surface dwellers were awkwardly paddling back to shore.

“What’s the plan, lolo? Are we gonna’ peace the sharks to death, too?”

There was a shared laugh from among the band of hunters as Kapono simply smirked back, shaking his head. Always with jokes, as it was with Akua. Humor was essential to a good hunt, he had to admit. Keeping the party in good spirits meant they’d work together even better when the difficulty came. With that he adjusted his grip on his hunting spear and raised it up high, the universal symbol for the hunt beginning in earnest. 

[Hider=Summary]
A snapshot into the lives of Nelves and Akuans, particularly their dealings with one another as distant kin. A deal is made between some Akuan hunters and their surface counterparts, trading fish for the elves returning to the shores to stop scaring all the fish. In addition, a flipped perspective from the last post in order to demonstrate Nelvish accent when speaking Akuan.
[/hider]