Post dated to July 17. 300+
The Utina had been in a black mood ever since the meeting the other day. After he had taken his family away he had retrieved the Master relics that had until that time belonged to himself and his mate, returned to the Town Hall, and thrust them ungraciously to the Raven Warriors without a word. None of this was right or just and nothing would convince him otherwise. If there had been such a problem, why would Chief Aatu said nothing of it to him when he spoke with the Chief just a couple moons ago? He did not doubt that Maska and his goons had indeed been sent by the Chief, he simply did not believe that this was all to the letter of what the leader of the Great Tribe would want. Even if he thought Dawali had lied—something Nayati refused to accept—why strip the Masters of their hard earned ranks? Not only had they been stripped of their titles, they had not even been given the dignity of moving back down just a single tier. He was now an Itse, a rank he had not been since he was an adolescent deciding which path to follow. It burned the Utina up inside with a wildfire of anger.
He had been spending as much time as he could away from the Village, and especially avoiding going anywhere near the Town Hall. Nayati did not trust himself to not do something foolish if he were faced with the Ahote man or his lackeys. He doubted that he would be able to hold his tongue in their presence, or even his fists. It was very unlike him to be so consumed by such negative emotions, but these were very unusual circumstances. Today he had left home early and taken his bow and quiver deep into the woods the tribe owned. Hunting was not his purpose though; any desire to provide food had vanished with the words spoken at the meeting. If they wished to deny him his rank then they could damn well pick up the slack that he left. They didn't want him to be a hunter and so he would cease to hunt. He only brought home enough to feed his family, nothing more.
Nayati stood far off from the tree that was his focus and loosed one arrow after another at the imagined faces of the usurpers, his anger temporarily channeled into a grisly target practice. Onawa paced back and forth behind him. His Guide had been just as restless and touchy as he had been. If the puma had been more calm about the recent turn of events it might have helped to soothe him, but her nerves only served to fuel the blaze that burned inside.
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