Hours had passed in the former chief's home. His tribe was more advanced than some in the area, building small huts out of what they could salvage. The biggest and most elaborate had always been for things of great importance. As such the chiefs home was made of a few fallen trees. The tribe Boreen was part of living just inside of a meadow within a forest. Not all of his kind lived the same way though. The tribe he had fought against that morning lived in the more open plains. The fight had actually been over who would live in the meadow. He had no idea what the other tribe would do now with so many of their warriors dead, but that wasn't something he felt he had to worry about.
"Boreen, are you listening? This is a subject of great importance. It may not be to you but for me it is."
"Sorry shaman I," He was cut off.
"Oh enough of that! Just call me by my name, Grantaw."
"Oh of course. I'm sorry Grantaw, I was lost within my own thoughts. This is not how I had imagined my day would be going."
"That is true for all of us." She paused for a moment as she looked deeply at her home wall. Shaking her head slightly she began again. "Boreen, it is a tradition for the head shaman and the chief to be married. That being said, I truly loved my husband and refuse to belittle him by marrying anyone else."
"And I would never ask that of you Grantaw." He meant no offense by the statement but was worried about how she would react.
"Then it's settled, I shall step down from my position and go into exile. It is the way of our people."
"No!" The words came from Boreen's mouth louder then he had expected them to. "I have no idea what I am doing here Grantaw. I need you. Besides, I have no one I wish to wed. Can we just change the rules?"
"That's not our place. Tradition states"
"That the chief can make the rules, correct?" Boreen said cutting Grantaw off.
"That is correct." She admitted frustratingly.
"I am not asking you to run the village Grantaw. I'm only asking for your wisdom and for you to do what you already have been doing." Boreen looked at the head shaman pleadingly.
"That is a fair enough task to ask of me, and a wise one at that. Perhaps you will make for a fine chief Boreen." The words struck at Boreen's heart. Pride welled inside of him yet again. He looked down at his new spear, thinking of all the responsibilities he had just obtained. It might be hard but he was willing to prove himself to the gods and the villagers. "Now Boreen come here its time to start the celebrations." Grantaw gave him a new ceremonial collar to put on and then painted his face in the traditional chief's war paint. "Now go, it is time to show your people you can at least look like a chief." The words came from Grantaw accompanied by giggles. Boreen laughed along with her then made his way out the home and under the night sky.
