It has been so long since I have run through these trees. So long since I ate the tangy needles and feasted on the sparse flowers . . . Not long ago, I was a man. I ran through these woods, too, but with none of the speed I have now now that I am a deer once more.
My life was long as a man, but uneventful. I was recruited young. Taken from my mother at age 11 to be raised as a Dog Soldier. All across the lands, the People of the Deer began to train their young. Our warriors numbered many, and I was proud to have my part.
However, life as a Dog was tedious. Day in and day out, we patrolled the forests near our growing towns, fighting off nothing so fierce as a badger, albeit a quite annoyed one.
And then came the day of judgment for me. We were called forth to do battle with a roaming band of the Tribeless, those who knew nothing of towns, who knew nothing but rape and pillaging.
When I woke, I knew the day was meant for my death, and I prayed to the gods of the forest to accept my Spirit again ~ to return whence I came to this life . . . I fasted, and purified myself, and we Dog Soldiers strode from the village.
We found the Tribeless, sharpening their soaring spears, their
arrows they call them. But they do not know these tree as we do, the are not friends with the wood. And so the forest hid our movements, so that when we came upon them, they were quite unawares.
The fighting was fierce, bloody, and quick. The Tribeless lay dead, and it was as we were slitting the throats of the survivors that I felt the arrow pierce my flesh. The shot was true, though the man who fired it was dead before he fell back to the ground. I looked at the darkening rosettes on my buckskin tunic, and darkness overcame me.
While defending in the wild, Dog Soldier defeats (2.08/4): Barbarian Archer (Prob Victory: 98.2%)
I do not know how long I slept, but I was aroused by the sounds of Dog Soldiers, speaking to one another not far away. I opened my eyes to find these brothers of mine, and discovered the forest had welcomed me back into its arms. I was deer once more.
Though I could not speak to my former brethren, I whispered my tale onto the winds, and my words were taken to heart by the men.
Tribal village results: experience
The Epic of Powatea, the earliest known Native American writing, circa 650 bce