The men, despite embarking with utmost expediency, still must chase the canoes downriver, almost out of view before wrangling them all. In gathering all of them, they slowly make their way upstream.
Inside the canoes are full of gifts. Full of furs delicacies, and crafts. Clearly this was made with good intentions. The men on the other side of the river sort of stare, and walk off.
The men in the canoes from the Haluti fork camp take notice.
Dolo peers off as he watches their canoes intercept those pushed across, securing them and beginning to ferry them back up against the stream. He nods to himself with a quiet humph and simply stares back to watch the other men retreat shortly afterwards. He keeps some men watching as he heads over down the banks somewhat, signalling the men on the canoes to land before they both look over the contents of the canoes.
Dolo's right brow rises somewhat, looking over the gifts of furs and crafts. There's a moment of consideration before he sends the men to continue taking the items down towards Hamcha.
When Dolo returns to the camp, the others seem to have laxed. One of them asks, "So... What was it?" Dolo pauses, beginning to enter his tent again as he looks over his shoulder. "Tribute." he says, before he enters and lets the flap move back into place.
Upon returning the Hamcha, the gifts are brought to the Halut-dan and the canoes are sent to some shipwrights to study them and see if they can adopt any ideas from them into their own canoes.
After crawling over a small ravine at the river's edge, they encounter a small grassy hill. By now, the sounds of the festivities is more clear. A girl, or a young woman, or a child sings solo as the drums quiet down. They crest the hill prone to get a better look, and spot a village of notable size, though none of the villagers are working—they all congregate in the middle of town. In it are people who look a lot like them, dress similarly. And their language...
Why is it so similar?
The child who was singing is amongst perhaps ten others of the same age. All heads shaven, all around a large bonfire. The village joins in chorus and sings a stanza before the next child rotates in. The children sing facing a stage made of raised earth in front of a larger cabin at the center of the village. At the front of the stage is a very well-decorated shaman. An order of perhaps 6-8 lesser shamans stand behind the elderly shaman up front. Behind them stands a mixed order of what looks like a score of older men and women in anything from marginally to significantly better garb than most of the townsfolk. Behind the children stand the rest of the village.
They continue in their stanzas and verses. The chorus following a common theme, and the children seeming to vary on subjects, though the unknown language barrier can only suggest so much.
Shau and Krin look on, lying on their bellies amidst the grasses with squints from afar. A few others are looking two, but the majority stay further down the hill as to not give themselves away. Every man and woman there looks between themselves, the same look of curiosity mixed with eerie discomfort. "It's like looking in a rippling puddle," says Krin, his voice hushed- more-so than it normally is. "They look like us, but odd and distorted."
There's a moment of silence before Shau says, "We should go back." Shau looks over to Krin, and then the others. "Let's go." he says, motioning with a flick of his wrist before they all peel off and begin to head back to the canoes to report what they've found.
Shef pauses. He had expected a larger clan than what he came back to, but hadn't realized the scope of the troubles. "Three followed me at first." Shef looks down at his hands, then back up, his voice cheerful but his eyes steely, "They are no threat any more."
Another slow, melancholy hum leaves the Halut-dan, hands held close together to tap the tips of his fingers across each other. There's a nod, and he looks away as he says, "Good. You did good.". There's a look back, and a sympathetic glimmer shows in his eyes- honestly one of the few positive expressions he's had since him and Shef had begun talking.
The doors to the hall open, two shamans and a warrior who stands at entrance way, waiting. "Hmh. It seems one of the Fau-dan beat me to the punch." There's a bit of distaste in his tone as he looks back to Shef, his hand rising in a presenting manner towards the shamans. "Go with them. They'll lead you to the coast. You will be given to the tide, and we'll see if she returns you to us.". As though to console him, should there be any hesitation, the Halut-dan leans in and offers quietly, "I'll be watching over you."
There's another pause and then the Halut-dan sits back in his seat, as the shamans come towards Shef to lead him along.
The warrior now moves, heading in an arc to come around. Now that he's inside- it's made obvious that he's hauling quite a lot on his back which he now begins to present to the Halut-dan, who seems humored and impressed in kind that he hasn't dropped it all.
