Post by Wyvernwings on Apr 5, 2007 14:50:30 GMT -5
Neolithic Revolution
Ok now I'm about as feminist as it gets, this will probbably show my true colors but I also believe that if someone was to start planting fields it would be the gathers, the women.
This one I actually spent a little time on, so I hope you like it!
Rating: K+ - T a bit of sextual mention
Summary: The Neolithic Revolution, I can't say it's horribly creative, but it's just how I pictured it would happen. It's a story, not a tale, but a simple, what-might-have-been.
“El!” Ki called me. I swung around, blade in hand bent over ready to attack. He was male, I wasn’t in season, that’s all I needed to know.
“El, back to camp, too late to be out.” He roared. I kept my face to him as I backed away.
“Food.” I keened at him. “I… last time we came, food in same spot. I leave some, food still there!”
“You talk wicked talk.” He growled and reached forward grabbing my hair. I screamed and hacked it off quickly with the knife.
My name is El, and I am of the Dog Clan, we’ve had dogs for a while, almost as long as anyone can remember. I am the witch of the tribe. I may not talk well, but my thinking is great. There is no true language of my tribe, so it is hard for anyone to talk well, but we manage. For many past seasons, when we have past this great river, I have set aside a stock of berries, should times get tough next year. I was one of the few who could think past my own stomach.
Each year though, no matter where I hid my berries there would be a new berry bush there next year. Soon I figured out what this meant, but no one listened to me. This year though, they would listen. I would make them.
“Back to camp.” He yelled. I lunged at him with my blade and hissed at him in a feral manner. I waved the dagger back and forth before his face until he was so caught up in the knife he lost track of my foot. I swung out and kicked him in the groin and he fell over backwards.
“Ki! You get back to camp. I better. I stay.”
“You will be no more for this.” He hissed in pain. Those without the clan were as good as dead in this cruel world but I knew how to survive. I merely grinned.
“My mate will stay.” I growled sure of this. Ki laughed an evil laugh and ran back to camp. I huddled down next to the miracle bush. I would spread more things out like this. I would have more berries than any one could imagine, and I would guard them. They would be for my mate and I alone. Perhaps I would bear children. I would have enough for them. I muttered to myself and started to weave, slowly I felt myself calm*. Too much, too new, all bad, all bad…
“El!” My mate hurried up and hunkered down next to me. I nuzzeled him and curled up into him.
“My bush…” I explained. He nodded, he knew what I meant without words. He sniffed me cautiously then started to pick leaves out of my hair. I cooed and lay back into his arms.
“We no go back.” He murmured to me. “Ki look to take over. Drand no last long, Ki too strong.” I keened sorrowfully and he silenced me.
“I steal dog.” I said suddenly.
“No… you steal they kill.” He said slowly.
“My dog…” I grumbled and slunk off.
“El.” He muttered slinking after me.
“My dog, my bed, my fire kit, my healing pack. I bring them with me. I bring… I bring people with me.” I muttered slowly as I started to plan. “Just follow,” I murmured, “Just follow…”
“El…” He growled softly to me, “El… no need.”
“All need. Child need mother, tribe need witch, clan need me.” I said. By that I simply mean that as the child needs a mother to go before it, I would be the first to help the clan into a new way of life. As a tribe needs a witch to look after their souls, I would look after not only their souls, as was my job, but they’re bodies and futures. The clan needed me to take this step.
We slunk into camp and fire burned, the sentries were lazy without me to harp them, so quick were they to adjust that I fear it was sometimes more harmful than good. I stood by the fire and screamed at the top of my lungs. Poln stood tall beside me and beat his chest to create a thrumming drum with the hollow beneath his skin. The sentries woke with a start and so did the entire clan.
“I have food!” I yelled. “This place, this place has forever food!” There was a murmur and shiver about the people, my sister yelled for joy. Drand rose from his bed roll and stood next to me.
“Why say you this, sister of the dogs?” He asked. He spoke in a language he had learned from one of the elder clans. Our clan was new in comparison, though our clan had been around for three dog generations.
“I make berries spring from the earth!” I keened submissively to the chief of our clan.
“Great witch are you.” He smiled gently at me.
“You place the berries in the ground on mountain sun, next mountain sun there new bush.**” I said softly. Few held my respect in this clan. They were strong, or agile, or diligent, but few were as wise as he was. Only he and my mate held my respect, the rest were far to easy to out maneuver.
“You make food for everyone?” He asked. I grinned and nodded.
“No war of clans!” I said excitedly clasping his upper arms to his body.
“Wonder witch.” He beamed at me.
“No!” Ki roared at us. “Too new! Bad, all bad! Witch badness!”
Drand drew himself up to his full imposing height. Ki weaved and bobbed a threatening dance to challenge Drand.
“You want clan?” Drand asked calmly. Ki roared an affirmation. “Have it. Those who go with are as stupid as you. Food for us for many years. You take those who have no future.” Drand said proudly. Ki roared and more than half the clan rose and collected their goods. As the first of anything, we take a risk that few are brave enough. I watched as my own brother packed up his things without remorse.
“Ours!” I screamed taking a handful of earth and throwing it at them. Ki spat at it and swung around.
“Keep.” He laughed. He tapped his head. “Ours.” He tapped his head to indicate his life, as we all know all forms of life start with the head. A baby born feet first was always dead soon after, only a child born head first could survive, the same applied with all other forms of life.
With that he left, the majority of the clan at his heels. Few remained, Poln, myself, Drand, many of the old, many more of the young, old enough to be on their own, but not old enough to know how risky this was, only knowing that it could bring easy living. Few stayed who were of any use hunting, though many of the great gatherers stayed.
We stayed south of the mountains, burying berries and other things as we went. As it turns out, fish did not grow, but many other things did. Times were tough in the beginning. We did not have all the food it took for us all to live well, we hardly had enough food to live at all. Poln, thankfully, was a decent hunter, and a few of the male young ones shaped up to be fine enough hunters as it was. However, in time it seems as though my plan worked.
The men grew excellent at killing the dangerous species, and turning those that would have us for dinner, into our meals instead. Our plants soon took to growing, and though the bushes didn’t develop in just a year, the other bushes around us kept us sustained.
I grew old there, by the great river, indeed I grew older than many who came before me, and many who came after. I sat by the river as I grew too old to even plant, and my daughter’s daughter would sit by me. She would bring me tails of those in our clan doing great things. She said that boggled even my mind. She talked of men who went out to the wild and found young creatures, brought them back to the clan and raised them. She spoke of men making tools that cut better, and she told me how all children were told tails of our history. She said that I was the first who would be remembered, for only Drand came before me, but he died into the first sun to the plains***, before anyone would remember him.
I smiled at her and sighed, resting my back to the tree and whispered softly to her as my very voice grew as week as the rest of me.
“Dear daughter’s daughter, do you remember last year, was there a sunset on this day a year ago?” I asked her, it seemed as I aged I could make up words without anyone truly caring like they did when I was young.
“Yes mother’s mother.” She said happily, “There is a sunset every day.”
“Ah, but daughter’s daughter, what was the color of the sunset a year ago today.” I asked.
“I don’t know mother’s mother.” She murmured. “No one can know everything.”
“Ah, and no one should. But by the time you are a mother’s mother, my name shall be remember no more than that of last year’s sunset.”
Notes:
* Weaving releases serotonin, a chemical used to make you happy. Many horses weave but so do many people. It can cause anything from relaxation to a high.
**Translation, mountain sun is when the sun is nearest to the mountains, which would be in summer.
*** Winter, get it?
Ok now I'm about as feminist as it gets, this will probbably show my true colors but I also believe that if someone was to start planting fields it would be the gathers, the women.
This one I actually spent a little time on, so I hope you like it!
Rating: K+ - T a bit of sextual mention
Summary: The Neolithic Revolution, I can't say it's horribly creative, but it's just how I pictured it would happen. It's a story, not a tale, but a simple, what-might-have-been.
“El!” Ki called me. I swung around, blade in hand bent over ready to attack. He was male, I wasn’t in season, that’s all I needed to know.
“El, back to camp, too late to be out.” He roared. I kept my face to him as I backed away.
“Food.” I keened at him. “I… last time we came, food in same spot. I leave some, food still there!”
“You talk wicked talk.” He growled and reached forward grabbing my hair. I screamed and hacked it off quickly with the knife.
My name is El, and I am of the Dog Clan, we’ve had dogs for a while, almost as long as anyone can remember. I am the witch of the tribe. I may not talk well, but my thinking is great. There is no true language of my tribe, so it is hard for anyone to talk well, but we manage. For many past seasons, when we have past this great river, I have set aside a stock of berries, should times get tough next year. I was one of the few who could think past my own stomach.
Each year though, no matter where I hid my berries there would be a new berry bush there next year. Soon I figured out what this meant, but no one listened to me. This year though, they would listen. I would make them.
“Back to camp.” He yelled. I lunged at him with my blade and hissed at him in a feral manner. I waved the dagger back and forth before his face until he was so caught up in the knife he lost track of my foot. I swung out and kicked him in the groin and he fell over backwards.
“Ki! You get back to camp. I better. I stay.”
“You will be no more for this.” He hissed in pain. Those without the clan were as good as dead in this cruel world but I knew how to survive. I merely grinned.
“My mate will stay.” I growled sure of this. Ki laughed an evil laugh and ran back to camp. I huddled down next to the miracle bush. I would spread more things out like this. I would have more berries than any one could imagine, and I would guard them. They would be for my mate and I alone. Perhaps I would bear children. I would have enough for them. I muttered to myself and started to weave, slowly I felt myself calm*. Too much, too new, all bad, all bad…
“El!” My mate hurried up and hunkered down next to me. I nuzzeled him and curled up into him.
“My bush…” I explained. He nodded, he knew what I meant without words. He sniffed me cautiously then started to pick leaves out of my hair. I cooed and lay back into his arms.
“We no go back.” He murmured to me. “Ki look to take over. Drand no last long, Ki too strong.” I keened sorrowfully and he silenced me.
“I steal dog.” I said suddenly.
“No… you steal they kill.” He said slowly.
“My dog…” I grumbled and slunk off.
“El.” He muttered slinking after me.
“My dog, my bed, my fire kit, my healing pack. I bring them with me. I bring… I bring people with me.” I muttered slowly as I started to plan. “Just follow,” I murmured, “Just follow…”
“El…” He growled softly to me, “El… no need.”
“All need. Child need mother, tribe need witch, clan need me.” I said. By that I simply mean that as the child needs a mother to go before it, I would be the first to help the clan into a new way of life. As a tribe needs a witch to look after their souls, I would look after not only their souls, as was my job, but they’re bodies and futures. The clan needed me to take this step.
We slunk into camp and fire burned, the sentries were lazy without me to harp them, so quick were they to adjust that I fear it was sometimes more harmful than good. I stood by the fire and screamed at the top of my lungs. Poln stood tall beside me and beat his chest to create a thrumming drum with the hollow beneath his skin. The sentries woke with a start and so did the entire clan.
“I have food!” I yelled. “This place, this place has forever food!” There was a murmur and shiver about the people, my sister yelled for joy. Drand rose from his bed roll and stood next to me.
“Why say you this, sister of the dogs?” He asked. He spoke in a language he had learned from one of the elder clans. Our clan was new in comparison, though our clan had been around for three dog generations.
“I make berries spring from the earth!” I keened submissively to the chief of our clan.
“Great witch are you.” He smiled gently at me.
“You place the berries in the ground on mountain sun, next mountain sun there new bush.**” I said softly. Few held my respect in this clan. They were strong, or agile, or diligent, but few were as wise as he was. Only he and my mate held my respect, the rest were far to easy to out maneuver.
“You make food for everyone?” He asked. I grinned and nodded.
“No war of clans!” I said excitedly clasping his upper arms to his body.
“Wonder witch.” He beamed at me.
“No!” Ki roared at us. “Too new! Bad, all bad! Witch badness!”
Drand drew himself up to his full imposing height. Ki weaved and bobbed a threatening dance to challenge Drand.
“You want clan?” Drand asked calmly. Ki roared an affirmation. “Have it. Those who go with are as stupid as you. Food for us for many years. You take those who have no future.” Drand said proudly. Ki roared and more than half the clan rose and collected their goods. As the first of anything, we take a risk that few are brave enough. I watched as my own brother packed up his things without remorse.
“Ours!” I screamed taking a handful of earth and throwing it at them. Ki spat at it and swung around.
“Keep.” He laughed. He tapped his head. “Ours.” He tapped his head to indicate his life, as we all know all forms of life start with the head. A baby born feet first was always dead soon after, only a child born head first could survive, the same applied with all other forms of life.
With that he left, the majority of the clan at his heels. Few remained, Poln, myself, Drand, many of the old, many more of the young, old enough to be on their own, but not old enough to know how risky this was, only knowing that it could bring easy living. Few stayed who were of any use hunting, though many of the great gatherers stayed.
We stayed south of the mountains, burying berries and other things as we went. As it turns out, fish did not grow, but many other things did. Times were tough in the beginning. We did not have all the food it took for us all to live well, we hardly had enough food to live at all. Poln, thankfully, was a decent hunter, and a few of the male young ones shaped up to be fine enough hunters as it was. However, in time it seems as though my plan worked.
The men grew excellent at killing the dangerous species, and turning those that would have us for dinner, into our meals instead. Our plants soon took to growing, and though the bushes didn’t develop in just a year, the other bushes around us kept us sustained.
I grew old there, by the great river, indeed I grew older than many who came before me, and many who came after. I sat by the river as I grew too old to even plant, and my daughter’s daughter would sit by me. She would bring me tails of those in our clan doing great things. She said that boggled even my mind. She talked of men who went out to the wild and found young creatures, brought them back to the clan and raised them. She spoke of men making tools that cut better, and she told me how all children were told tails of our history. She said that I was the first who would be remembered, for only Drand came before me, but he died into the first sun to the plains***, before anyone would remember him.
I smiled at her and sighed, resting my back to the tree and whispered softly to her as my very voice grew as week as the rest of me.
“Dear daughter’s daughter, do you remember last year, was there a sunset on this day a year ago?” I asked her, it seemed as I aged I could make up words without anyone truly caring like they did when I was young.
“Yes mother’s mother.” She said happily, “There is a sunset every day.”
“Ah, but daughter’s daughter, what was the color of the sunset a year ago today.” I asked.
“I don’t know mother’s mother.” She murmured. “No one can know everything.”
“Ah, and no one should. But by the time you are a mother’s mother, my name shall be remember no more than that of last year’s sunset.”
Notes:
* Weaving releases serotonin, a chemical used to make you happy. Many horses weave but so do many people. It can cause anything from relaxation to a high.
**Translation, mountain sun is when the sun is nearest to the mountains, which would be in summer.
*** Winter, get it?