Primitive Instinct: The Journey Home

“Fern’mak’tak.”

“No. Five more minutes,” I groaned and rolled over, grabbing Diesel and snuggling into his fur. It was rare for him to sleep with me, so I took full advantage of it when it did happen, snuggling hard until he got annoyed enough to get up.

“Fern’mak’tak.”

I felt my shoulder shake and I growled, cracking open an eye to see an amused hunter looking down at me.

“Kaa,” I groaned and turned my face into my buddy again, making him grumble and get up. I reached out after him. “Nooo. Come back.”

He shook himself and sat in his usual place by the fire, giving me a flat look.

“Rude,” I pouted, and the hunter chuckled before falling to his butt to sit instead of crouch.

He handed me a chunk of dried meat before handing one to Diesel who took it with a little more force than he usually did. The hunter sighed and started talking, making Diesel’s ear twitch a few times before he started eating.

“Diesel’mak’tak good,” he said firmly, and I watched for Diesel’s reaction to what I assumed was an apology. I think he accepted it with a wag of his tail, since the hunter smiled briefly before looking at me then back to the dog and talking again.

After a silent moment while Diesel processed what Roar’kaol’tok said, he got up, bringing his meat over and dropping it in my lap before taking the piece I had yet to even take a bite of.

“Hey!” I gaped. This was not something Diesel did. He never took food that wasn’t clearly offered to him, even if he really wanted it and drooled enough to fill one of the Great Lakes.

“Tein-tein,” Roar’kaol’tok nodded, and Diesel dropped my meat in my lap before picking up his original again.

“Yeah, because I totally want it after I know what you ate yesterday,” I glared at him.

He huffed and came over, dropping the chewed meat on my lap again before picking up the piece that was supposed to have been mine.

“Gross.”

“Tein-tein,” the hunter gestured from himself to me, then back to himself. Diesel switched meat with me again and I frowned, knowing they were trying to tell me something but not really putting it together after just waking up from some really good sleep.

“Tein-tein,” I said slowly and looked at the meat on my lap. “Trade? Wait. Diesel won’t know that one... Shopping?”

Diesel dropped the meat and opened his mouth, letting his tongue hang out slightly as he smiled and wagged his tail.

The hunter handed me a dozen chips of wood and pointed at them.

“Fern’ma’tak. Alteen,” he said, then pointed to a few chips that he put in front of himself. They had rough images carved into them and I looked at them.

There was a bow and arrow that he called talnt, a spear that was dotou, animal skin was raulta, but only hide or leather. Fur was not a trade good, it seemed. Mammoth hair was, though, and that was called firth. Knife was wendu and I showed him mine, much to his amazement. When he pointed to the metal, asking what it was, I pointed at the stone of the knife, which stone was called krilt, he had given me and then flexed my arm, making him laugh and squeeze before showing off his much more impressive bicep saying arl. Arl krilt. Strong stone. Metal was strong stone now.

When we went over what was on his pieces of wood, he gestured for us to trade, and I picked a bow, some hide, and mammoth hair. He nodded and put the others aside before gesturing big and small. How much.

I thought about it for a bit before I held up the chip with the hide, two fingers, and told him lanka, for the moose deer. He nodded to himself before pointing to my chips and holding up one finger and I frowned.

“Alteen strong-fast,” he shrugged.

I guess fishing was a rare thing here. That could actually work in my favor, and I nodded, staring idly at Diesel as a thought came to me and I smiled hugely.

“Hey, Dies? How would you feel to have your own sled? Pull?” I asked him and his tail went insane as he started barking and jumping with only his front end. “Yeah, I figured that would get your approval. I didn’t name you after a diesel truck for nothing.”

Roar’kaol’tok laughed and pointed to the mammoth hair and gesturing for big and taking another fish. He tapped a wooden post, naming wood as eetha, and then took two fish. Then he pointed to me then pulled at his vest.

“Yes, I plan to make clothes, so I should probably get more raulta,” I nodded, and he held up five fingers before taking another fish.

Seven lanka’s worth of hide, a lot of mammoth hair, and a bow and I hadn’t even used half of my fish. It was good to be a fisherman here, it seemed. I picked up a fish chip and handed it to Roar’kaol’tok, making him frown.

“For... well, for helping us,” I gestured between myself and Diesel who did a short ‘talk’ and sat down. “We would have died without you getting involved when you didn’t have any reason to.”

“Kaa,” he shook his head and Diesel growled, making him stop as he tried to hand it back. Something passed between them before the hunter nodded and accepted the fish slowly. “Dotou?”

“Eetha,” I said flatly, and he snorted.

“Krilt.”

I rolled my eyes and he chuckled, holding out has paw and I tilted my head. He took my hand and slapped them together before handing me the bought goods and taking his fish chips.

“Tein-tein,” he nodded, and I finally understood what the heck all of the paw slapping was for.

He’s been making deals all over the village! I guess that was where the baan’tu and skaal went yesterday. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he laughed before holding up the chip with the hide on it, confirming my guess.

He took all of the chips and tossed them in the fire before gesturing at the chunk of meat on my lap still. I scoffed and tossed it to Diesel, who had been hovering, knowing I was going to give it to him after he drooled on it. I pulled on my jacket and boots before following Roar’kaol’tok outside.

“Staayee clous,” he told me as we went to the tent where the meat was being smoked.

A wooden pole was produced, and the twelve smoked fish were brought out of a tent that I assumed was for storage once the meat was cooked. Roar’kaol’tok placed the pole across my shoulders as the fish was looped onto both ends with rope and then he slapped paws with the attendants before we left.

“Tein-tein,” he looked at me and then grinned placing his paws close together and pointed to me.

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at him, making him snort and start laughing as he walked into the heart of the village again.

“Small. I’ve never been called small since hitting my growth spurt at thirteen,” I muttered and followed him. “I’ll have you know that I’m above average height, thanks.”

I was 5′9″ which was a solid two inches more than average, but those two measly inches felt like nothing next to the seven or eight feet that seemed to be the norm for these people.

“Psht. Small,” I scoffed when I caught up to him again and Diesel woofed, making the hunter laugh again and I rolled my eyes, feeling like the butt of the joke between them. As long as they weren’t fighting, I guess.

We stopped at a few tents before Roar’kaol’tok gestured for me to come closer.

“Jul’maan’rohl,” he tilted his head to the female who had an older male child peeking around her back, both looking at me in wonder. “Talnt?”

“Beel,” she nodded slowly after a second and looked at the child. “Parn’mak’tak?”

The child looked up and an ear twitched before he went into the tent and came back with a smaller version of Roar’kaol’tok’s bow and a small soft quiver with about a dozen flint tipped arrows.

The hunter lifted the pole of fish off my shoulders and tilted his head for me to take the bow and I tested the draw and flexibility and condition of the string and arrow heads. Some were a little chipped, but not bad enough to be an issue, so I nodded and took one of the fish off the pole and held it out. The child looked up at his mother, who nodded and took the fish. The kid and I slapped hands and Roar’kaol’tok put the pole over my shoulders again before slapping paws with the female and we moved on to the next stop on our little shopping trip.

The hair was in large leather bags and was too much for me to carry, so the hunter took it and the bow as we stopped at another tent with an array of hunting tools leaning against a wooden rack outside. A very grouchy looking male answered Roar’kaol’tok’s call to come speak and he looked less than thrilled to be pulled away from whatever it was that he had been doing inside.

“Kaa,” he growled, looking at me with disdain before turning to go back into his tent.

Roar’kaol’tok spoke harshly and the other male whirled around with a snarl that made Diesel growl back and I quickly grabbed the fur on the back of his neck.

“No, Diesel,” I shook my head. “Friends, not enemies, remember?”

He growled, still watching the two males facing off and exchanging harsh words, but he sat down all the same. Loyal to a fault, my best boy. Even when they were still not on the best of terms after their little spat, he was still going to defend the hunter, though I seriously doubted he would need it. Looking between the two males, there was a clear physical advantage on Roar’kaol’tok’s part, being in much better shape with much more solid muscle mass than the grumpy male that was growling at him.

“Roar’kaol’tok,” I said, and the hunter looked at me and I shook my head. “Kaa.”

He stood there for a second before he nodded, his jaw clenched before he shot one more glare at the other male and turning to walk away. I looked to the sky and sighed before following and catching up to him.

We left the village and went into a stand of bare trees. I was not good at identifying trees, but they were big and naked for the winter, so it’s not like I could tell what they might have been anyhow. After a short hike that I struggled through without my snowshoes, we stopped at a tent with a high, primitive log fence close by.

Roar’kaol’tok called out and the male that we had given the spruce branches to stepped out, holding a piece of smoked meat and chewing slowly.

“Hool’gra’nat,” I said, and the male looked at me.

“Fern’mak’tak,” he replied and looked at the pole of fish on my shoulders. “Alteen?”

“Beel,” Roar’kaol’tok nodded.

“Raulta,” I held up seven fingers and the side of the male’s mouth twitched upwards, like he was amused, and the hunter chuckled softly.

Hool’gra’nat put the rest of his meat into his mouth and gestured for us to follow as he walked around his tent and along the fence. After a small distance, we stopped at another much smaller tent and he flipped the entrance flap open and gestured for me to go in and look.

Roar’kaol’tok took the pole of fish from me, and I ducked inside, finding several dried and tanned lanka hides folded and stacked up neatly. I tested the flexibility of them and picked out five softer ones and two of the sturdier ones to make the harness and leads for Diesel’s sled and hefted them outside.

Hool’gra’nat inspected them and nodded before holding up three fingers and I narrowed my eyes at him, making him chuckle. I pointed to a pile of antlers and held up a two finger before gesturing to the fish and holding up three. He laughed loudly before agreeing and bringing over two of the large paddles to put with the hides.

I handed over three fish and we slapped hands before I dropped the hides into the paddles and gestured for Roar’kaol’tok to pass the pole back over to me. Diesel sniffed at the antlers as I adjusted the pole on my shoulders and then grabbed the part where the antler curved near the base and started dragging them back to the village.

The two males exchanged a few words before an amused hunter caught up with me, grinning widely.

“What?” I asked and he just smiled bigger before he dropped the bags of mammoth hair and bow into the paddles.

We stopped at the hunter tent before we left again, cutting through the middle of the village and I paused outside the chief’s tent that was once again open.

“Fern’mak’tak?” the hunter questioned, and I sighed before going inside and looking down, my hand on my forehead to hide my face.

I recognized the same words that the chief had said to Roar’kaol’tok when he first brought me here and I dropped my hand before gesturing to the fish.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay in your village,” I said, and Diesel woofed softly to the hunter who translated, and I held up two fingers before gesturing to myself and Diesel. “For both of us. We’d be dead otherwise.”

The hunter took some fish off the pole and offered them to the chief, translating through Diesel once again. The chief looked stunned speechless for a moment before he nodded and held out his paw for me to slap. Once we were out of the tent and on our way to where a bunch of logs were stacked and a couple of hugely bulky males were cutting and slicing them into something usable, the hunter stopped me with a paw on my shoulder.

“Fern’mak’tak,” he said and looked towards the big tent again. “Good. Strong-good. Haffa.”

I looked at Diesel who bared his neck slightly and then lifted his lip. It wasn’t submission. It was respect for someone ranked higher. It was a very good thing, too.

“I was raised that way,” I nodded, and Diesel woofed.

“Strong-good,” he nodded again before we continued to the woodcutter.

Some more bartering and I left two more fish behind and gained a shit ton of wood. Dry firewood, green saplings, sturdy poles, and one crooked and useless knot for Diesel to chew on because he wouldn’t let it go. When we got back to the hunter's tent, I gave him his fish and he nodded before hanging it up on one of the support poles before and sat down to start showing me how to turn the mammoth hair into cords to make a variety of things with.

I learned very quickly why mammoths could live in the cold. Their hair was thick strands, like horse tails, but had a wool type texture to it, making it very, very hot. I probably should have gotten more, since I was lacking my own fur, but I still had four fish to trade with if I needed more later.

Once we made a fair bit of cording, the hunter showed me how to turn that into rope then started lashing some of the wood together to make the frame for a sled that was a good size for Diesel to pull.

When he started to show me how to make the skids, I stopped him and pointed to the antlers, making him frown before looking from me to Diesel and back again. Understanding lit his face and he pointed to the snowshoes.

“Yes. Easier,” I nodded and pointed to Diesel. “He’s never pulled before. Easy is good.”

Diesel gave me a look before he grunted and the hunter chuckled, telling him something else that made the dog groan and turn so he was chewing on his wood knot with his back towards us. Pouting again.