Father stands staring outside at the trees.
“He failed us!” He bellows from his spot at the window, back arched proudly, head turned away from blue monkey who was kneeling behind him. If she could lift her head she would see the white tears that were leaving a scar on his rugged face, or the way his chest heaved in sorrow, another son lost, another battle lost. He was tired of the meaningless loss of his children, his sons, arrows in his quiver thrown at nothing. His last son was only twelve harvest moons old. He couldnt risk him. He wouldn’t risk him.
“Father,…” The words of comfort chocked her, her icy anger still a lump in her throat.
“Send me..” She whispered
“No!?!..” Father turned around angrily, the dark sheep skin he wore almost falling off his shoulders, he limped, towards his first daughter, towering above her, fist drawn back as if to strike her. But he stayed his hand and brought it down gently instead , touching her head. She whimpers in surprise.
“You cannot go, “he tries so hard to control the anger in his voice., “i will not let those bastards, mock me anymore, i will not send my daughter into battle, you are to stay here and rule and birth a daughter who will rule after you.”
Blue monkey rises angrily, and steps back a screech dying in her throat at the sight of father’s tears.
“He was my brother,” she whispers, “he was my baby brother i raised him and gave him his first arrow, i taught him to hunt and i will avenge him..”