The Survival of the Wild Tribe

80

Among the lush forests, two figures quietly traversed, their attire camouflaged with woven weed hats, faces smeared with grass juice and mud, bodies draped in weeds. Their cautious steps traced the downwind path, eluding detection by watchful eyes.

Before long, they reached the mountain's base, overlooking a plain where numerous animals roamed. A group of humans, escorted by orc warriors, slowly departed in the distance.

"How are they?" The duo approached a dense patch of grass, finding another similarly attired individual squatting there. Lu Zhan whispered upon arrival.

Jiaozhu turned, making space for Lu Zhan and Heikun. "They're headed towards Changfeng Mountain, but it's uncertain if they intend to ascend," he murmured. "Changfeng Mountain lies distant from the southern foot plain, where the grass is low and fierce beasts abound. Rushing would risk detection by the people."

"Are you certain Luca leads them?" Lu Zhan inquired.

Jiaozhu nodded decisively. "Without a doubt," he affirmed. Having previously hunted alongside Luca in the Black Panther tribe, Jiaozhu recognized him unmistakably.

"Yet it's now spring..." Heikun's voice trailed off. His companions understood his unspoken concern, their expressions soured.

Crossing Changfeng Mountain was no easy feat. Luca had traversed it only once before winter. Even with his speed, returning now would require embarking in winter. Notably, Luca had not only returned safely but also made contact with the cave tribe in record time.

Lu Zhan squinted at the dwindling crowd. The cave tribe's population paled in comparison to the Black Panther tribe's. Having scoured the surrounding mountains, Lu Zhan wondered how Luca had located the cave tribesmen.

Was his previous departure a mere coincidence, or was his timely encounter with the cave tribe equally fortuitous?

Lu Zhan pursed his lips, hoping this marked Luca's final departure with the tribe. Otherwise...

Ahead, a tall man abruptly halted, sensing something, and glanced back at the mountains. Though distant, only verdant greenery met his gaze, obscuring any figures hiding in the grass.

Beside him, the cave tribe's leader inquired, "Luca, what do you see?"

Luca shook off his thoughts, dismissing the strange feeling. "Nothing, just thinking of those left behind. I fear the challenges they'll face here," he fibbed.

Mentioning the left-behind tribesmen, the cave tribe's leader sighed, his tone tinged with helplessness. Forced by floods, snow, and beasts, the tribe had sought refuge in the cave, leaving those unable to depart vulnerable to the wilderness.

"Guardians will ensure their well-being," the leader reassured, whether to comfort the tribesmen eavesdropping or himself remained unclear. Nevertheless, the leader knew their survival hinged on more than mere assurances.

With spring's arrival, surrounding beasts had begun to stir. Though the cave tribe remained unharmed, they knew it was but a temporary reprieve. Survival relied on reaching their destination—a hope, albeit tenuous.

For the cave tribe, winter had dwindled their hopes to a mere flicker. Though they wished to believe in the beast leading them, doubts lingered.

"Indeed, everyone will fare well," Luca affirmed, resuming their journey.

Meanwhile, deep within the cavern's shadows, a small fire flickered, casting feeble light. Around it, a dozen people stood or sat, attended by an old man tending to a prone figure. Despite his stature, the man lay emaciated, a gaping wound on his abdomen shrouded in black mud.

Beside him, a middle-aged woman gently swatted flies from his wound, tears welling in her eyes.

A few gaunt children nestled in the arms of adults, their hunger pangs unvoiced.

A tall warrior strode in, flanked by two comrades, each holding a wild wolf. Eyes widened as they beheld the wolves.

The women swiftly skinned and butchered the wolves, distributing meat portions among the cave's inhabitants.

The elder, addressing the warrior, voiced their plight. "Warrior, our strength wanes. What would you have us do?"

The warrior, Shan Song, and his companions nodded grimly, understanding their dire situation. Despite their fatigue, they devoured the meat ravenously.

The taste of cooked meat risked attracting nearby beasts. Despite winter's end, the cave tribe rarely tasted cooked meat, relying instead on raw sustenance.

Surrounded by predators, securing food was perilous. Even when successful, rival beasts often seized their spoils, leaving the tribe vulnerable.

"How is he?" Shan Song inquired, gesturing towards the prone man, who lay motionless but for shallow breaths.

The elder shook his head. "Unchanged. I've applied the witch's remedies, but..." He trailed off, his silence conveying grim certainty.

"We cannot remain here," Shan Song declared, recognizing the impending danger. The encroaching beasts were but a harbinger of their inevitable doom.

"Where do we go?" The elder's voice trembled. Left behind due to infirmity or youth, the tribe's remaining members lacked combat prowess.

"We seek refuge with other tribes," Shan Song proposed. Though uncertain, he hoped healthier members might secure allies among neighboring tribes.

Before Shan Song could elaborate, a young warrior burst in, gasping for breath. "Wolves! They're attacking in droves!"

Panic rippled through the cavern. Despite their foreboding, the tribe faced the encroaching danger with dread.

Shan Song rose to lead the defense, flanked by his comrades. The tribe huddled, seeking solace in the warrior's protective aura.

The elder surveyed his fragile kin, hands trembling. Though once able-bodied, age had rendered him frail.

Brushing back the prone man's hair, the elder whispered, "You must recover. You are our tribe's strongest warrior."