My life began eighteen years ago, born into a warrior clan. The Plains Riders are fierce in nature with a strong sense of honour. Our whole culture is based around horses, hunting, trading and the freedom to live a nomadic existence. Many of us that follow the hunt do it for months at a time, others stay static protecting our lands.
I yearned to discover the land, to see the heart of this world. From an early age I was trained to ride, to fight, to protect myself and my clan. The Plains women are as strong natured as the men. Our combat skills are handed down from generation to generation.
My father was a respected warrior. He once told me that people have a greatness in their souls, but at times they forget this. They fight and fight each other even when there is no need for war, because of this we must always be prepared for battle. I think he preferred the loyalty of horses rather than the nature of people.
My mother was one of the kindest people I'd ever known, but so powerful and wise. She taught me independence, wisdom and every hunting skill I know.
I had a brother, older than me, a medicine man. He was an amazing healer but a terrible aim. I would joke with him that he couldn't hit a mountain if he was standing right next to it. He'd always reply, "when that mountain tumbles down on you little sister, who will be there to mend your broken bones?"
We were lucky that peace had honoured us for a while, but there was an unease in the air. My father had known ever since a new Heda had come to power. I remember his words to this day, "always take care across these lands, be ever vigilant. Times are changing, daughter. Never take your eyes off the Ice Mountains, Azgeda stirs." I should have heeded my fathers words, I should have known he was never wrong.
Upon reaching my sixteenth birthday it was my time to go out into the world, to learn to survive by myself. This was our rite of passage.
During my time away from my clan I experienced a whole lifetime of wonders. I travelled through mountains, through desserts and along the coast. As a Plains Rider most clans are aware of our fierce nature and are wise enough not to provoke us. Most trade with us for horses so navigating through different territory doesn't usually prove to be a problem for Ingranronakru.
Out of all the landscapes I had travelled through and all the clans I had met, it was the forests of Trikru territory that I felt at home the most. The dense forest, the fresh scent of pine in the air after the rains had fallen upon the trees sparked my senses and of course hunting was abundant.
My family had a good relationship with many Trikru villages, Ton DC, Alexandra and of course Anacostia, the place I was named after, the place of my birth. We had opened trade with most of the woods clan, mainly dealing in horses for the right to hunt in their woods. Eighteen years ago my mother and father were visiting the chief of Anacostia in the hopes of facilitating trade with other Trikru villages. It seemed I'd taken it upon myself to come into the world earlier than expected.
My mother always said even from birth I was an impatient spirit. The healers of Anacostia saved both of our lives that day. To honor the chief and his people my parents named me Costia after the village.
It had been many years since I'd visited Trikru territory but I was welcomed back to Anacostia with open arms. During my time away I spent many months with the old chief and his people. My home away from home for the Plains Rider with a Trikru name.
