Ok part 2
This will make more sense if you have read my Secret History of the Blood Tusk Clan. It is on this site but I am too useless to put a link in.
The Brazen Bastards
A Beginning
Part 2
Karpok Blubberborne of the Blood Tusk Clan
Karpok stared at the new Hardskin. He had seen his like on many blubber hunts. Dumb proud they were. Dumb proud of their hardskins. Dumb proud of their shiny longtusks. He knew them. The would clever fight dance with their longtusks and their hardskin arm plates. But they would tire. They would blow themselves out like a storm on the rage sea. Then you could blubber hunt them. You could hit bash the hard skin into their blubber. You could stick spike a tusk through the gaps. He had filled the blubber pits with many Hardskins in his time. Tall Legs, Tuskears, but never a Hardskin the size of The People. Was he one of the Fire Fathers or one of the Snow Fathers? It would be interesting to blubber hunt him.
As Kapok watched he saw the Talker come over to the Hardskin. The Talker was definitely one of the Fire Fathers. He had seen his Magic Speaking. Karpok shifted uneasily. He knew the power of magic. Tall legs and Tuskears often had Magic Speakers with them on their Berg Homes. He had had friends, burn melted by Magic Speakers. Karpok spat. He had blubber hunted them for that. Magic Speakers blubber bled like any other with a tusk in them. The Talker had not burn melted him though. The Talker treated him as an ice hard friend. He jabber talked about Gods. He jabber talked about Hashut and Hashoot and Him as if they were the same. Karpok spat again. They were NOT the same. Karpok knew the Secret History. He knew that the false Gods of the the Fire Fathers and the Snow Fathers had abandoned The People. The Talker treated him as an ice hard friend. The Talker was dumb proud too. One day Karpok would blubber hunt him as well. But not now. He was too far from the rage sea. Too far from the thin land. Too far from home.
Karpok rested his hand lightly on Mochduw’s head. The great whiskered face turned to him.
‘We will return to the rage sea, to the thin land and to The People. I, Karpok Blubberborne of the Blood Tusk Clan oath this ice hard. ‘
Karpok looked back at the others. Then he would fill the blubber pits with these fools. But for now he needed them.
The Talker was right about one thing. Karpok had been chosen. He felt it is his bones. Karpok had been chosen by Him. He had known it from the beginning. They had been hunting a Tuskear berg home on the rage sea. The Speakers had called His breath to white blind the Tuskears. To force them to slow. Hidden by His breath, Karpok had led his Blubberborne and swum crept right up to the berg home. The blubber hunt had been blood savage. Many of the Tuskears had been hard skinned with longtusks. But they were in His breath. By the time they realised the Blubberbourne were there it was too late. Karpok smiled at the memory. Some had tried to protect their Magic Speaker. He could feel the rip tear of their blubber as he hard smashed through them. The warm blood splash. Their jabber screams. The fear look in the eyes of the magic speaker as his tusk club swung. Then, just then, he had been Chosen. Chosen by Him. Chosen like Tonrak Dron. Sent with Mochduw to the land of the strange ice. Sent to the eternal blubber hunt. To wade through the blood guts of His enemies. Never resting. Never stopping. Blubber hunt or be hunted. It had been glorious.
Karpok glanced round the paved area, at the seats carved from the deep land with their strange scratch marks. Now he was here. Stuck in the middle of the deep land. Stuck with the Hardskin, the Talker, Beastface and the Bone One. Waiting for a sign from Him. Waiting to do His work. Then finally he could blubber hunt. The Talker looked over from his jabber talk with the Hardskin and smiled. Karpok smiled back.
He could wait.