Zukie jogged down the beaten path her silver necklace glowing as the moonlight reflected of its carved shape. Leaves and brush nagged at her rough, beaten clothes. She slowed her pace now at a dead mans jog. He boots made of fine kabako that made no sound. She crouched behind a dead log, but this time she also belt down on one knee, last time, the kabako got away by her one mistake.
But last time, she didn't know any better. No one had told her anything ,because of that one night. She lived in a small village, with lots of pasion. They lived, breathed , and loved nature. Everything had a spot and a place. And so did her people. Even each person was different. Just like the necklace Zukie wore around her neck, everyone had on, but just a little different.
Hers was the carved shape of a white tiger.
Although she has no clue what it means. Her village disappeared when she was 3. At only 3 she was still very young. And as adults they only stood 4 feet tall to 5. As a baby she was very small. But the elder gave her her necklace as soon as she was born. The elder knew stuff like that.
Her parents feared for her as a young one especially because the cold freeze was coming. And that is a dangerous time to be born. All islands of the earth are stacked up by ice and no one gets in. And no one gets out. The ocean is frozen. And because of that something in her life changed. Her parents knew something was coming. Something dangerous. They took her away, and she she never saw them again. All she knew that it was very, very, very cold. And everything froze that year. Not just the mountain, or the oceans, everything froze. But zukie. As winter thawed, she was with no food, for she had eaten it all. She learned to hunt on her own. And the few others that survived joining together to form new tribes. Everyone but zukie. Now she lived on her own, And here she will stay. Her necklace is a symbol of her spirit, the elder had said. There voices faded in her memory. Her white tiger necklace was unique, but zukie didn't know much.
Zukie lifted her bow. Her silence made her almost invisible to the kabako. They relied on smell, or hearing not eyesight. The wind blew at her face. They couldn't track her. She moved forward, lifting the bow up to her face as she crouched. She pulled back, the string rough and hard flexing as she did. The arrow flew by By face, and a loud, deep moan escaped its mouth. It fell to the ground, the floor it was standing on making dust as its heavy body hit the ground.
