A Life of War...

Chapter 3: An Awakening War

I wake up, my head throbbing in pain. I squint my eyes open and see light peircing my eyes. they burn, used to the blackness by now. Slowly my eyes adjust to the harsh surroundings of light. I look at my surroundings, trying to find out where i have been taken. At least im not dead, I thought to myself. Then I looked to my left. There was a boy sitting on the log. He smiles warmly at me, like he has seen his best friend again after 5 years.

"How is your head? Is it doing all right?" The boy was sincere and honest, I could feel it. 

I let a small smile form on my face, but i grimace in pain instead. My forehead burned at a tightened my face to smile. I gently touch my forehead and wince in pain again. I sigh in relief though, when I find out it is only brused, not cut and bleeding. I place my hand back down and slowly sit up.

He has a nice figure. I look into his eyes, which are the color of a light green and dark green mixed. They warm my cheeks, because of his intense gaze. I look away, embarrassed.

"Where's Jhaaronku? Is he okay?" I ask him, suddenly scared of what might have happened to him. I had a bad feeling about it.

"I presume that that is your snake. Don't worry, he is fine. He is with my partner Mikalina. She is a Hippopotamus. I think Jhaaronku understands that I saved you from the devil boy. At least that is what my tribe calls him." The boy looks at me, then stands up. "Come on, we have to get moving."

My head was still spinning. "What? Why do we have to get moving. There is no rush. Is there?" I hope he says no, but his face darkens with worry.

"War..." He bites his lip and turns his head. "War has befallen upon all our tribes."

I want to laugh at him. We have always been at war. Why would we stop and start again? Before I can ask him I know the answer. He means that this is the final war, the war to all of our deaths. My father has talked about it to my mom. I hear them talking sometimes, me hiding just outside of our open door.

"Come on. Let's go." He offers me his hand to take it.

I accept, but my hands shake as I touch his skin. He has calluses, but they are not to big and rough. My soft hands aren't used to this kind of feeling. As soon as I am able to stand on my own two feet, I casually let go of his hand. "Do you wield a weapon I can use?"

"Let us go to your tree and you may grab your weapon. We must be quick and precise."

I nod, but just slightly.

He nudges me, and we are off, running... running for our lives.