The wind chill was unbearable, as the tribe marched through the snowy hillside. Tan skins shivered beneath thick sabertooth hides. Tuuk's forehead glistened with frozen beads of exertion. The light reflecting warmly off of his golden brown eyes. He was fighting against friction, using a makeshift sled to carry his brother, Buusho. He had been hurt during the hunt, and couldn't walk on his own, so Tuuk took up the slack. He fashioned an old sled from the bark of a dead tree and some extra furs packed for emergency, and bore the straps on his shoulders, dragging his sibling across the hellish winterscape. Tuuk looked at the sun, the symbol of a deity who clearly didn't see fit to bless them, as it's warm radiance retreated beyond the horizon, as the frost of the moon set in. A camp had to be made quickly, and the tribe's leaders were already on it. A spot in a thicket of trees was secured, the dense copse of woods being a perfect barrier for the assaulting wind. Tuuk was a few paces behind, on account of his increased load, and made it just in time to set his Buusho to the side, and get to work starting a fire. The damp wood the others gathered was incredibly inflammable, but Tuuk had a trick in his arsenal. He reached into his Buusho's leather pack, taking it from his young brother's sleeping arms, and pulled out some dry, warm grass and placed the pack under his head, lovingly. He shredded the grass apart into small fibrous pieces and packed them into a loose ball, like a nest for the fire, and started upon creating the spark. Clack clack clack Sparks flew into random directions, even stinging Tuuk's muscled legs, but finally a small ember laid, cradled, within the dry kindling, so he added pressure and started to blow gently into the flames. The ember grew into a flickering flame, growing an appetite large enough to gorge upon the wet timber. Tuuk's heavy-lidded brown eyes danced with fluttering red light, as he quickly tossed the ball underneath the wood pile, and patiently awaited the spread of flames. Sure enough, the flame caught, and the camp started warming themselves by the ever growing fire. Tuuk scanned the other members of his tribe, counting twenty heads, much less than the 40 they had started the hunt with. Their hunt had been largely successful, gathering the hides they wore today and the meat in their bellies, but many of their rank had succumb to the cold, flittering out quietly among the sides of the group. Losses weren't uncommon, but they were unprecedented in this amount, it would take the tribe time to recover from these deaths. Families would be left weakened, and men would have to take in new wives and children, to ensure the survival of their tribe. The fire woofed, clearing off the remaining wetness of the wood, and the heat allowed the bleary-eyed tribesmen to take some much-needed shuteye, and so the light of the moon surrendered to the calm darkness of sleep. That is, until the men of the tribe were awoken to the sound of screams within the forest. Tuuk knew animals to make sounds like crying children to lure them out into their hunting grounds, but he had never in his years heard one imitate a man's dying scream like that. He looked around, one of the men should have kept watch, but he saw that nobody was at post. All were resting when the scream roused them, and heads twisted around nervously as the smart among the tribe realized. Their heads numbered nineteen. Another scream echoed into the woods, as a dark blur appeared and disappeared among the fringes of the group. Tuuk couldn't make out any details of the creature, but soon everyone realized this wasn't a normal animal. Tuuk grabbed his brother, and ran towards the fire, grabbing a smoldering stick to defend himself. His fellow tribesmen being picked off far too quickly. Only ten, no nine remained, and more were going with each passing second. There were those among his tribesmen that tried to run, or fight, or scream, nothing worked. Nothing stopped the onslaught on his people. Finally, it was just Tuuk, and his brother, but they weren't alone. "Huuungrrry.", a hollow voice scratched out among the top of the treeline. The creature sprinted towards his brother, but Tuuk swiped with the smoldering log, and the creature flinched, and jumped back meters. Only in that moment did Tuuk get a good look at the murderous creature. It stood 5 feet tall severely hunched, with black fur and wet blood covering every inch of it's body, save for the head. Atop it's furry, sinuous frame, rested a alabaster tiger skull. There was no skin, no eyes, no muscle, only bone and two furious blue flames rested within the otherwise empty eye sockets. It retreated back into the woods, and hissed out, "Briiiight. Buuuuuurns." Tuuk understood how they could survive this. The beast couldn't stand the light, he only had to wait it out until the sun rises, but the night was still young, and the hissing and growling from the woods only intensified as the night deepened. After hours of unresting vigilance, and several unsuccessful attempts from the beast, the sun finally poked out from the horizon, and with it's appearance the attacks finally stopped. Tuuk, took a short rest, but as the warmth of the sun started to invigorate his muscles, he knew he had to make haste to get back to the encampment. Dragging his brother behind was a challenge, especially after a restless night, his mind reeled. Exhaustion set in, and they were still a ways from their home. They had nothing to eat, everything lost in the attacks, but they still had a smoldering flame that his brother watched and cared for with his life, even with the freezing wind threatening to put it out at a moment's notice. Tuuk took cold, burning breaths, and sat down, the blood surging dully in his head. His brown eyes had dimmed and dried after a full day of dragging his little brother behind him. The sun drove past the center of the sky alerting Tuuk as noon had passed, and soon, they would be at the mercy of the beast again. Adrenaline surging, Tuuk stood back up, put the harness onto his shoulders, and sped, almost running, towards his encampment. The trees became more familiar, and the grass lusher, and finally Tuuk saw his home encampment lit up by the setting sun. The sight would be beautiful, if not for the reality of what was behind them. Sprinting as fast as possible, his brother struggling to keep the torch alight, Tuuk raced the dusk, but time was not on his side. The light of the moon soon illuminated the wooded fields, rays of moonlight rippling across Tuuk's skinned feet. Blisters leaving a bloody trail in his wake, a perfect track for the beast to find him. His brother clutched the torch tightly, holding onto his last illusion of safety. Tuuk was single-minded and focused, but the flame of hope was extinguished within his dark eyes. His legs gave out, and he crashed onto the ground. "Big Brother. Big Brother. Tuuk. Why did you stop?" "Tuuuuukkkk?" mimicked a voice from the woods, and just like that the beast was upon him, looking even skinnier and more sickly that last he saw it. Clawed hands ripped into Tuuk's back, and blinding pain gripped his spinal cord. The beast dragged him 8 meters away towards the woods before a hurtling log of fire smacked the beast in its back. Buusho worriedly had given his only safety measure, in exchange for Tuuk's safety, in a desperate gamble. It dropped Tuuk on the ground, as it's body erupted into flames, like kindling. It rolled uselessly in the grass, screeching, it's form shrinking into something closer to that of a human, an inaudible cackle shook it's frame, before it loosely dissolved into a pile of dust. Tuuk and his brother were safe for a night. His brother crawled out of the sled and limped over to the torch slowly, and dragged his older brother closer to the sled, off of the hard, cold ground. Tuuk's legs dragged uselessly behind him. His bloodied back didn't leave a trail as it smeared across the ground, the bleeding had already fortunately staunched. After a night of exhausted sleep, Tuuk was revivified in the morning, able to take the weight back on. His back was itchy, but was barely bothering him. He dragged his brother back into the encampment, where they were both immediately taken away for medical treatment. Tuuk was seen by the elders, and questioned during his treatment, and the tribe mourned the loss of their husbands and fathers. Tuuk was saddened by their loss, but the relief of being home had brought respite to his soul. When Tuuk and Buusho reunited, his younger brother's leg had been reset, and a clay cast had been molded around it, and Tuuk similarly had clay on his blistered feet, and salve on his back. Buusho looked at the sky, and for the first time in days, didn't fear the setting of the sun, the moon taking it's place in the sky. He looked down into the eyes, of his strong older brother, and saw the same joy reflected back from his incendiary eyes. Had they always been so blue?
Emorry felt sweat drip down his forehead, as his chest was illuminated by the blinding red beam of a sniper scope. A greener recruit would see a collection of images, a collage of fleeting memories reminding them of the life they're losing. Emorry only had flashes of grueling training sessions flood his mind, and a cold clarity and decisiveness. As ripples of kinetic energy spread emptily through the cold, dark desert, a muzzle lit in the distance like a murderous beacon, alerting Emorry to the positioning of the sniper, and the starting trajectory of the bullet. Emorry estimated the sniper fired from 725 meters away, give or take. Tucked away, in the rubble of what used to be a building, the sniper's covered face was illuminated by the flash. A blur of camouflage clothing and black face paint made it clear the marksman was a member of the United States marine corps. With a second to spare, Emorry flattened his back against the wall to his side, the cold stone breathed life into his fatigued muscles. He crawled under the window he'd been taking up space in before slinking his way through the halls of the abandoned building. The sharp turns barely hid the bodies, of who used to inhabit this house. A husband laid out at the door, women and children hidden in the bathroom, their lifeless faces away with anguish and fear. This was not a noble war. Emorry had witnessed the ceaseless bloodshed firsthand. Nobody was spared. This war wasn't on a military; they had been sent to destroy a factory town. This place was supplying the enemy with munitions, so it was a tactical benefit to the States to destroy it, but these people weren't soldiers. Emorry's conscious weighed on his stomach like a ball of molten lead. Too many innocents had died here. Emorry slung the AR platform over his shoulder, with a muted thud. Loyalty be damned, somebody had to stand against this. Emorry cracked open the backdoor to the house, and heard hushed whispers. More men in camouflage circled around the house, trying to exploit Emorry's pinched positioning. The words "AWOL" and "deserter" were thrown around, as the men excitedly made their way to Emorry's last vestige of safety, but they were greeted with a hail of fire. Emmory tucked in the corner, and all at once, caught the enemy off guard. Weapons down, and overconfident, the soldiers fell quickly to unexpected, automatic fire. Emmory lowered his weapon and approached the body of an ex-teammate, the walkie talking buzzing with inflamed questioning, "We heard gunfire. Tell me it's done, is Sergeant Emorry dead?" Emorry crouched, pressed the button, and brought the device to his lips, "Yes, sir. Requesting transport to retrieve the body, and confirm the kill." Emorry sat with his back against the wall like a treacherous statue, rifle in hands, and just like that, against home and country, Sergeant Emorry declared war.
