It Takes a Tribe- Erzulie’s open rp

This was an open rp thread started by Erzulie. Contributors include myself as the Kel’zhan’s, Erzulie as the In’ama’s, Zarjun as Zar’huda and Tokarn as…Tokarn. Posted here with their permission.

————-

My Beloved Tribe,

The times we live in now are troubling, yet there are many reasons to celebrate. New life is coming to us all. And with this we are also seeing the sadness of grief as old lives pass away from us. Recently, I have adopted the orphan Gigi’ani and the tuskling, Lous’safa or “Little Green.” I have pleaded with what remains of my own family for assistance in taking care of the tusklings as well, only to be sent my nephew, Sou’bo In’ama. And while he is a wonderful boyo, he is just that. I feel that I will be raising him as much as the tusklings. Due to these factors and the oncoming future that I will also be giving birth to two tusklings in the near future; I plead for your help.

My hut is small. The tent my father had lived in even smaller. There have been a few offers to help me build a larger hut and I accept them with gratitude. However, I ask for a few extra hands in this. Your help will not go unpaid, you will have me indebted to you. If you wish to assist us in any way, please make your way to the Isles.
With humble gratitiude,
Erzulie In’ama

The Witch Doctor rolled up the parchment as a young gangly Darkspear traipsed into her hut, he was twittering with energy and had one of the most curious expressions of hesitation and fear that Erzulie had seen in some time. “What is it Sou’bo?” She asked in Zandali as she rose from the tiger pelt.

His violet eyes shifted suspiciously and he toyed idly with his rabidly unruly mass of purple hair. “Umm… Auntie…”

She gave him that look. A look only mothers know with dealing with imperitent children.

“Umm…”

“Use your words, Sou’bo, there’s too much to do to waste my time.”

“Well, you know Big-Z’s bulwark…” He scratched at the back of his neck nervously. Erzulie’s eyes narrowed over her nephew.

“Yes.”

“It sank.” He blurted out.

“…Sank?”

“Yup. It sank.”

“You tried to surf with it, didn’t you?”

“Yep. But Auntie, there were some GNARLY waves out there. And that bulwark is huge!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“It’s a BULWARK!” She took a deep breath to calm herself. Her center of calm was off kilter with the influx of hormones. With an exasperated sigh she shoved the scroll in his hand. “Mail that and meet me on the beach, hopefully Zar’huda won’t notice before we get it out of the water and clean it up. If he does, you’re dead. You do know this, right?”

“…but…you know, it was going to be awesome!”

“He’ll kill you.”

The boy skulked off.
—
Kelruk Kel’zhan loped his way to the Orgrimmar Bank uttering every epithet he could think of in Orcish. Soon he ran out, switching to Zandali and continuing to berate the smug tiger shadowing him. “…and then you decide to run through the pottery stall? You have to be the stupidest, most stubborn animal I have every met!” He glared at Razsha, who merely licker her chops and stared back nonplussed. “That better have been some damn good fish. I’ve got half of Orgrimmar pissed at me because you decide to run off with someone’s lunch. Don’t you look at me like that, I might just sell your pelt to the potter and give him a nice rug.” Kel continued grumbling under his breath and he went inside to check his box, empty save for a small parchment from the Postmaster which he took outside to read. He frowned and nodded as he read over the elegantly written lines, pulling out a spare scrap of scroll and smoothing at against the stone wall as he pulled a quill from his bags. He touched the tip to his tongue and penned a short reply, his face melting into a huge tusky grin as he regarded the tiger.

Later in the day a grumpy, very soggy tiger pulled itself out of the water and padded over to a small hut, a small waterproof pouch containing a scrap of scroll tied about her neck.

Erzulie,

I have heard of your trouble and wish you to know that any sister of the Darkspear will never go without so long as Kelruk Kel’zhan is around. I offer my hands to this endeavor gladly.
Loa guide and keep you.

-Kel
P.S. I offer Razsha to help with anything you require. She is a cunning and able huntress and well used to delivering messages wherever they must be sent. If you do so, make sure to send her by the longest path, and the wettest if possible as she has vexxed me recently. Send her to Sen’jin when you have no further use for her.
—
Zar’huda had woken up, drowsy as he was, Erzulie was there, he shrugged and looked for his armour. Once patched up in plate he picked up his axe… but where had his bulwark gone? He had to go get raptor meat. Raptors are easy to deal with then they crash against large plate structures with spikes! The bloody bulwark would not appear. He had left it right there! Right there!. Finally, not wanting to scare the tusklings, the Dire Troll exited the tent wielding his axes.

He knew Erzulie needed a larger hut. He had been sleeping outside after all. Waking up with the sun in your face every single day was getting quite frustrating after all. Zar’huda’s mind was a flow of ideas, what to do to help her. What to do to help her without her thinking he was just trying to leave a mark over Zultepe’s. That he wasn’t interested in her flesh no longer. The trail was long, he wanted the wild desert raptors, the time passed, Riva hissed, they were close.

A few hours later, a bag filled with raptor meat was locked upon Riva’s saddle. His big girl, the overgrown puppy-raptor, she was happy to do as Zar’huda wished, her name meant ‘Ugly’, but she didn’t mind. She knew the Dire Troll had always put her above many things in his life. Fine gem-studded braces for her claws… she was just as spoiled as she was loyal. She didn’t mind carrying the meat around her neck, or to pull alongside her master the massive logs that he had chopped down to help with the building.

But his bulwark… he just couldn’t move his mind from his bulwark…
—
The bulwark had been dragged from the water and cleaned. Erzulie had even rubbed some oil into it to keep it from rusting. She knew firsthand the damage that salt water could do to even the finest metal over time. Sou’bo had been dutifully warned though she wasn’t sure what good it would do overall. As a punishment she sent him to the beach with Lou’safa and Gigi’ani. Some punishment.

The Witch Doctor braided her hair haphazardly, paying close attention to not dislodge the gems she had so carefully worked into the vibrant purple mane. She could hear Damballa and Ayida joking, heckling each other just inside the hut. The sounds made her smile. Her family was coming together again with the news of her pregnancy and the death of Abi’jah; the rifts.

She dare not think of the rifts now. Erzulie had been working with the Earthen Ring for some time, even before the time of the scourge threat. It might’ve been delusion, but she always considered herself to be a warden of the land, believing it part of her sacred duty to the Loas. But now?

Now her people needed her. Her family needed her.

No one was unhappy to see her store her shield and battle armour.

Erzulie ducked inside her hut quickly enough to grab a skin of frog venom brew and a small package of saltfish. Her stomach rumbled unhappily. Even the scent of the saltfish bothered her anymore. She took the food to the neighbouring isle where Zultepe was sitting around a fire, watching the waves as he cured fish and meat. She could hear Xocolotyl rustling through the trees and caught of a glimpse of his vibrant red plumage.
Her stomach calmed at the scent of the slow smoking meat and she sat beside Zultepe, handing him the skin of brew and the saltfish wrapped in banana leaves. The Hunter smiled and thanked her; brushing his fingers through her hair. They looked over each other like children discovering love for the first time before sharing a quick kiss, their tusks nicking together.

She rested her head on his shoulder and looked out over the water towards Sen’jin. Her gaze shifting away at the approach of a soaking wet tiger. Both Zultepe and Erzulie couldn’t help but to the laugh at the look on the poor tigers face. The Witch Doctor flicked her wrist and blasted the tiger with enough wind to dry her before reaching forward to take the scroll case from her neck.

Her violet eyes studied the note inside the scroll case for a moment with a smile, “Kel offers us his assistance. I should respond to this.”

Zultepe nodded and tossed a bit of saltfish to the tiger. Soon he’d go after a new tiger.

Soon.

Together with Razsha, she made her way back to the hut in time to see Zar’huda arrive. Riva was laden down with raptor meat and logs. “You torture that poor thing.” She quipped, knowing full well how much the almost-dire Troll actually spoiled his girl. “Take the meat to Zultepe, he’s on the other Isle smoking some already. “ She watched for a sneer on his lips and was pleasantly surprised when there was none. “And…”

He waited, watching her after freeing Riva of the weight of the logs.

“Thank you, Zar’huda.”

She ducked inside the hut to scribble a quick note.

“Kel,
Thank for your offer of assistance. We have some wood, we will need more and supplies are tight right now. While you assist us and even beyond, you will be welcome in the In’ama home. Join us at your leisure.
With the deepest gratitude,
Erzulie In’ama.”

She slipped the parchment into the scroll case and prayed quickly over the tiger to give her the ability to walk on the water rather than swim. “Take that back to your master. And behave for him.” She chided with a smile.

—

A large bundle is left by the entrance to the current In’ama hut. Inside are several parcels of fresh meat, some jerky, scattered fruits and even a small bunch of bananas. A small note is pinned to it.

I regret I was unable to meet you here but I must see to something in Stranglethorn tonight. I discussed the construction of the new hut with Tokarn and Korzif, and we will begin gathering materials. We’ll need Zar’huda’s help to carry and place much of it, I’m sure. In the meantime I bring food for you and your family so you have one fewer thing to concern yourselves with.
Loa keep and guide you.

-Kel
—
Outside the current In’ama hut, roughly forty 8’4” planks sit. All of them seem fresh and cleanly cut, bound together by a vine rope fashioned in the particular style Raventusk trolls are known for. Two letters are pinned to the top plank, one seeming to be crude red ink on finely cut bark and written in neat Zandali, the other somewhat messy orcish on white parchment.

Raventusk:
We Raventusk hear ‘ya situation from the dopey one– Tokarn is his name. You got your island back. Good for you.
The wood is strong and has been used by our own people for many years. You ain’t going to find anything better.

For the Horde!

Tokarn:
I got the wood I promised. It took a while, but I was lucky enough to have Primal Torntusk give me an ear. I told her about the reclaimed isles and that you had a growing family. It took a little persuading, but I managed to have her aid. They’re giving all this lumber to you, so long as I help them replant the few trees that have been cut down. I guess I might be busy for a little while!
—

She couldn’t keep Gigi’ani from playing on the piles of boards outside the hut. Sou’bo played with her. He was encouraging her as well as keeping a watchful eye on her. Damballa had taken Lous’afa to temple with him that morning. Ayida had gone to spend time with Adjassou in hopes of getting to know Avsa’lom. Her youngest had brought news of her own pregnancy the previous night. It explained the glow of happiness.

A mother. A grandmother.

The timing was enough for her to realize that they would be having their tusklings around the same times. She’d not be able to help Adjassou with the transition to motherhood. Ayida however, was already on it.
—
She and Zultepe spoke of her at great length as they sat outside on the steps of the hut watching Sou’bo and Gigi’ani. She had moved home temporarily. At least she claimed it was temporary but then went on to adamantly state that the tusklings would need tutoring.

Zultepe’s tusks brushed over her cheek, she looked to him with a soft smile, “I’ll be back shortly.” He rumbled and the Witch Doctor nodded. Her violet eyes remained on him as he walked off. Her heart sang.

She shook her head when she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, tinting them.

With a deep breath to quell her, she pulled a few sheets of parchment onto her lap and began to respond.

Kel,

I thank you for the food, though getting simple provisions has not been an issue with us as we all enjoy the different aspects of hunting, fishing and gathering. Zultepe prides himself on such things. I am glad to hear however of the assistance, we received enough wood for two huts from Tokarn this morning. While I cannot speak for Zar’huda, I know that he would be willing and able to give whatever assistance is required.

Undying Gratitude,
Erzulie In’ama
She fed Razsha a piece of saltfish while she waited to deliver the messages Erzulie was still writing.

She flicked another bit of saltfish at the tiger and took a deep breath before beginning the last of the letters.

Tokarn,

I cannot thank you enough for the efforts you have made. The wood you have sent is better than could be expected and having lived among the Revantusk for a short period of time, I am not surprised that they offered their assistance. I hope to see you on the Isles soon, and I would like to offer you a place in the new hut for all of your work, I know that you had expressed interest in living amongst the Isles.

Graciously,
Erzulie In’ama

She rolled each of the letters separately and slipped them into the scroll case around the Tiger’s neck. After a quick scruff of the ears she leaned down and instructed the Razsa to where they must all go.

She watched as the tiger sped off.
—
Kel sauntered inside the Salty Sailor Tavern, inhaling deeply to sample the smoke that wafted out. Once the cloud had been parted he could see a table at the back occupied by an old troll and two grizzled orcs playing a lazy game of dice. The old troll’s wizened cackle split through the room as he raked in a few rusty coins and the orcs grumbled good-naturedly in the way of old friends. Kel smiled as his uncle pulled out a well-worn ivory pipe, a mirror image of his own, and once again set the smoke cloud in slow rotation around the room.

The younger troll came up behind the elder and clapped a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. Kel’s uncle gave him a brief, sharp look, and then cackling tossed his dice back into the cup and bade his companions farewell. He hobbled to his feet and reached for his cane, letting out a hacking cough and giving the barmaid a toothy smile and wave as he tottered to the door, met by a giggle and a wave. Upon exiting he performed a vaulting skip and tossed his cane to Kel, all traces of stooped back and hacking cough suddenly gone. “Never gets old, boyo. Let them think you’re a dottering old codger and you can smack any ass that passes by and get nothing but a smile for your trouble. Now, what the hell is this idea you’ve gotten into your head?”

Kel smiled and shook his head. “You’ll never change will you, Uncle Vanjar?” The elder troll snorted and gave him a skeptical look. “Now why would I? Trade another good twenty years, maybe thirty, of smacking asses in bars so I can hang out in Sen’jin all day and pass the weather with the old folks? Now tell me, what are you planning?” The pair stopped at a rail overlooking Booty Bay and packed their pipes, lighting them and puffing in tandem without noticing. “Uncle, what do you know about the In’ama family? This idea of mine concerns them.”

Vanjar N’dala puffed in silence for a moment, calling upon his vast reserves of meaningless tidbits to find what he was looking for. “In’ama, you say? Hm…I remember Ok’anu..a servant of Ezili. She was quite well respected, as well as her husband…Thyr’sos! Yes, Thyr’sos. You were young then, but he performed the offering to Agwe before the last voyage your father made. So what concerns their kin, hm?” Vanjar gave his nephew a sharp look. “Is everything well with them?”

“Yes, yes. They are fine. But Erzulie has a hut on the Echoes and as the family grows the hut has become too small for their needs. We’re gathering supplies to construct a new hut, which is why I asked for your help.” The trolls once again puffed in tandem and tapped the ash out of the pipe bowls. Kel continued after puffing the spark back to life. “We already have a good bit of fine lumber, sent by the Revantusks. But for the frame, we need something that will last of course. So, with the size of the new hut, we’ll be going mammoth hunting.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
“Mammoths?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, so mammoth bone for the frame. That’s all well and good, but once we get a mammoth, and we get the bones, ignoring all the work going into that, how are we getting this bones back to the Isles?”
Kel scratched his neck and gave him a sideways look. “I was hoping that’s where you’d be able to help me.”

Vanjar took a few thoughtful puffs and looked around at some of the bruisers wandering around. “Zeppelin.”
“Yeah, that would work, but there’s no way they’d let me lug that on board. Or if they did they’d charge me out the ass for it.” The old troll beamed and swung a leg over the rail. “No, I’ve got a zeppelin for you. This old goblin owes me a favor. Saved his leg a long time ago. Figure now’s a good time to collect, hm?” He cackled and produced a flask, swigging from it and nearly falling before righting himself. “To the frozen North, boyo! Best grab a warm cloak.” Kel shook his head and smiled at his uncle’s antics. Now that they’d figured out the transportation issue, now all they had to do was…skin and bone a mammoth. He sighed. It was going to be a long day.

—-Later that day—-

Kel and Vanjar stood on the deck of the zeppelin as it veered from its usual course back to the Orgrimmar towers to hover over the Echo Isles. The balcony below held several goblins scurrying and shouting the changes in the wind and trajectory. When the patch was clear they shouted up and with a mighty heave the navigator released a large lever and everyone peered over the side as a massive bundle of mammoth tusks and bones floated gently down guided by billowing parachutes. When they touched down there was a raucous cheer and high-fiving spread around, and even the sour-looking captain managed a smile and a wink as he launched into a spiel concerning the superiority of goblin technology. The hurdle dealt with, Kel sank down against the rail and tried to tame his unruly mohawk as the zeppelin swung back around toward Orgrimmar. His uncle joined him, sipping from the flask again and wincing as he rubbed a swollen knot on his head. “That’s how you do it, boyo.”
—
Kel stumbled into his uncle’s hut and collapsed on a bedroll on the floor. It was time to rest, finally…after the longest day he could remember and a longer night. Most of the supplies had been gathered for the hut, now he just had to track down Zar’huda and some extra hands to start placing the frame into the ground, hopefully tomorrow. Zar’huda…might not be so happy to see him. Nothing to do but wait and see. In the meantime, that Shu’halo might be a safer bet for lifting the tusks. He rolled over and dug a folded note out of his pouch and regarded it again by the moonlight. He smiled, and placing it beside him he folded his arms behind his head and waited for sleep to take him.
—
Ayida tried to be silent as she made her way into the small hut that was shared by too many at this time. She didn’t wish to wake any of them, especially not the tusklings. The young arcanist brushed her unruly red hair back away from her face and pulled her glasses from the bridge of her nose to set on the small table she was using as a makeshift desk. Her lanky form curled up on the tiger pelt in the far corner of the hut, stiffening as she saw the fuzzy outline of her mothers’ feet draw nearer. “I didn’t wish to wake you mama.” The young woman whispered.

“You didn’t. It’s early, are you just coming home?” The Witch Doctor asked quietly in Zandali as she sat beside her daughter, her fingers brushing through the mass of red hair.

“Mmyes. I delivered your message.”

“And?”

“We will need to add space for Kelruk Kelzhan and his mate.”

Erzulie leaned down and brushed her tusks against her daughters’ cheek. “I was worried for you. Are you happy with this?”

Ayida didn’t need to answer her mother; the smile on her face was obvious. A smile that in turn, made Erzulie return the expression. “Get some sleep. You have a few hours before the construction begins.”

———————————–

Adjassou had come to the hut early to find that Erzulie had collected the parachutes used to deliver the bones the previous day. They were folded and neatly stacked beside the hut, a spool of fishing wire and a bone needle sitting atop them. “Saving them?” The druid asked.

“They’ll make good sheers to protect against the rain.” Erzulie responded and looked up at her youngest daughter. She sat on the steps of the small hut braiding together the cured strips of leather that would serve to secure the mammoth tusks and bones.

“That’s actually a good idea. I’m guessing you’re not going to use the Amani style of structures.” The younger asked and sat beside the pile of parachutes. She picked up the fishing wire and the bone needle before pulling the first of the parachutes into her lap.

“No, we are Darkspear beyond that, look at this weather, girl!”

The two women sat chattering idly throughout the morning. The hut slowly beginning to bustle with life, newcomers arriving to assist them from the Tribe, from the Darkspear people, from curious onlookers. Erzulie and Adjassou took turns watching over the two tusklings, trying their best to keep them out from underfoot. The In’ama family raptors had all been saddled with pulleys to help pull up the massive tusks to frame the hut.

Kelruk Kelzhan, Zultepe Mo’ana and Ayida In’ama poured over Sou’bo In’ama’s sketches; designs of a four tiered hut. It had been three but Erzulie had informed them earlier that a fourth tier would be needed. Sou’bo and Zultepe both seemed to grin each time they caught notice of the stolen glances between Ayida and Kelruk. Glances Sou’bo noticed Zultepe and Erzulie exchanging as well. Despite the rumours, he was far from an idiot. He looked over to Adjassou and nodded, his cousin giving him a strange look in return. “What, Sou’bo?”

The boy shook his head and jumped over a pile of wooden planks and into the hut to grab a large skin of Erzulie’s homemade frog venom brew. Just as quickly, the scrawny kid jumped atop the pile of planks.

“YO YO! TRIBE! IN’AMA’S! MO’ANA’S! DARKSPEAR!” He yelled, snapping his fingers and lifting the skin of frog venom brew above his head. “We’ve all come here to like give our help and support to my Auntie Zulie, because we all know she’d basically do anything she could to help any of us. The Witch Doctor is one righteous babe!” He laughed and looked to his Aunt. The Witch Doctor was cackling happily, “Yes, Auntie, I called you a babe. ANYWAYS! So, like, there’s some bogus shit going on in the world. The Cultist in Orgrimmar are talking about the end. Even the Earthen Ring is being all like, ‘What the fuck man!’ But, here we are. Building on the Echo Isles. Restoring pride. And making good for the benefit of a FAMILY. Auntie Zulie is pregnant. Adjassou is all hella knocked up. Ayida! Fuck! The one Auntie said would die alone with her research! Ayida! Congratu-fuckin’-lations to you and Kelruk. This is our family. In’ama’s, Mo’ana’s, Kelzhan’s, and whatever stock Avsa’lom comes from. We’re Darkspear, we’re Tusks and we’re making life work when everything around us is some bad juju.”

With that, Sou’bo jumped down from the planks and tossed the skin of frog venom brew to Zultepe. The hunter caught it and bows his head thankfully before taking a drink and passing it around to those who had come to the hut to begin the construction.

Ayida ruffled her cousins’ hair and laughed. “You’re an idiot.” She mumbles.

“Yeah, I am.” He grinned. Just like an idiot.
—
The bulwark had seen it’s battle, spikes had fallen, although Riva seemed unharmed, her rider couldn’t share that feeling with her. Zar’huda, returning only half victorious from his adventure in Teldrassil. Elunite, they called it. He had it. Barely breathing, but enough to keep himself on the world of the living. “Not just yet, Baron.” the massive troll muttered to himself constantly as the raptor carried him; worried was the lizard’s face every time she peered up to that troll that had spoiled her for so long. She didn’t know what happened. She wasn’t aware of it. She was told to stay out from sight no matter what and ready to run. And so she did.

Riva waited outside, under the planks of the large dock in Ruth’thel Aran village, just outside Darnassus. The veil of the night had covered Zar’huda’s entry into the city. As large as he was, the raptor saw him fade in the shadows, much like his sister could muster. Big bright orange eyes watched and waited, she made a nest with leaves. Waiting for her master. Hours passed, scraps of Darnassian bread fell trough the planks, she devoured them. Waiting loyally, she’d turn to stone if she had to, there was no leaving until Zar’huda said so. Finally the dawn of the second day arises, the hulking figure appeared in the distance, she was ready, tense, watching. The whistle pierced into her senses, her signal, she rushed over to be recieved by arrows being deflected by the fine saronite armour Zar’huda had given her. Hissing and growling. “Get us out of here, girl.” Zar’huda’s voice was a weak one, dying almost, coughing and gagging on his own blood. The raptor did as instructed, fast, ridiculously fast for a beast her size, night elves boggled as the raptor dodged and jumped over fallen and incoming arrows until she had faded in the distance, swimming in the open sea.

What had happened? Something in her owner’s gut , she had felt it as well, that connection they shared with each other, Riva feared, she rushed, pushed her limits, she drank water from the ocean to keep herself from exhaustion, salt, chomped on the eventual fish that jumped too high and close. The third day came; record speed made on the way back to Durotar, Sen’jin Village.

One weak, wounded, barely conscious and half-alive Zar’huda dismounted, with the help of his raptor he made it far inside enough to drop his worn bulwark and most of his armour inside, as quiet as he possibly could, holding a large leather back next to him, his prize, he smirked to himself as his raptor curled up at his back keeping him company, her head resting gently atop of his form, watchful. A weak pat on her snout was enough. “I’ll regenerate in the morning, girl… Just stay.” he whispered.

Outside he had left a neat Keldorei glaive, along with another bag. “To Erzulie” a small note hung from it in Zandali.
—
Kelruk tied off the leather cords securing the belt to his waist and checked to see that it was secure. Attached to the belt was an open pouch with a number of chiseling and carving tools, as well as a few small skins of water and some cloth. Satisfied, he found a raptor harness and opened the cinches, allowing for his girth before tossing one end around one of the massive tusks of the newly framed hut and catching it around the other side and buckling it around his back. With a final check of the cinches and buckles against his weight he leaned back into the harness and began to scale the tusk.

He stopped near the tip, keeping pressure with his legs and digging around in the pouches. He pulled out one of the cloths, dipping it in a water skin and throwing it over his shoulder. That done and the tools gathered he was ready to begin. Kel looked over the frame, running his hand over it to get a feel for the texture, finding a good starting point and wiping it down with the cloth as he mumbled to himself. “I suppose I should start with Papa Legba.”

As he worked he sang to himself in a low, throaty voice, a nonsense song about nothing in particular. The scraping and chiseling fell into time with the song and his wild blue mowhawk swayed as be bobbed his head to it. A pattern began to take shape, a prayer to Legba in Zandali script. When he was finished around the hut the frame would be covered in prayers to all the loa for their blessing and protection on the family that dwelled within. He leaned back and admired his progress so far, unstoppering a gourd of frog venom brew. It was going to be a good day’s work.
—
Sou’bo’s face was scruntched in a mixture of concentration and apprehension; his tongue set firmly between his teeth. Now that the primary construction of the hut was complete, he didn’t feel so bad about stealing one of the extra mammoth bones. He stayed up through the night to plane it straight and was now securing it to the base of his surfboard.

The young Troll was pretty sure Erzulie would have his tusks if she realized he had pilfered one of the parachutes she and Adjassou had taken the time to sew into a proper curtain however. Thus was his look of apprehension. He had to work faster.

Erzulie walked through the newly completed hut, her hands trailing slowly over the intricate works that the Tribe had so painstakingly taken with its construction. A pleased smile played across her lips. Four levels. The first of the four levels was to serve as a common area, complete with alters and a cooking area. The second was to be for she and Zultepe, the third for Damballa, Sou’bo and the orphaned tusklings of Abi’jah. The fourth, was for the Kelzhan’s; her daughter Ayida and her mate, Kelruk. The Witch Doctor nodded to herself. A good addition to the In’ama heritage.

Adjassou and Ayida were taking the time before Kelruk and Zultepe returned to the hut with the possessions that had remained her former hut as well as the hut of their grandfather to secure the parachutes over the open spaces of the hut. Protection from the rain and winds should it be needed. The billowing white silk was difficult to handle but the two women seemed to be enjoying their go of it.

Moments of peace to be interrupted by a boys screeching and excited bellows, “TAZDINGO MOTHERFUCKERS!”

The three women rushed to the edge of the beach on the far coast of the Isle to stare in shock and surprise at the horizon.
Windsurfing.

Sou’bo’s work had proved successful. He gripped firmly onto a bone handle that lined the wide girth of the sail crafted with the parachute as strong gusts of wind lead him to cut through the waves.