It was a gorgeous day in the forest today Kinnegar contemplated as he made his way through the branches with the morning sun leeching through the dark canopy above stabbing shafts of light onto the colorful forest floor beneath his feet.  He had gotten up early and spent most of the morning tracking and running down the buck before him.  A Majestic creature with horns the size of his own arms and enough meat on its bones to feed the homestead for a month.  Silently he raised his bow and notched the arrow taking careful aim so not to squander this perfect opportunity, times like this came not too often.  As he pulled back on the bowstring he breathed easy and – Thump – he felt himself hit in the side of his ribs, not hard in a physical sense but enough to wake him from his dream.<br/><br/>The scene before his half raised eyes was far from the tranquility and peace he was at on the other side.  It took a moment for him to adjust to the mist drifting over the hilltop.  That same odd mist that had come into the valley about a month ago and had yet to leave.  The bright orange and gold’s of the morning sun in his dream was replaced by the dark gray clouds and chilly air that accompanied the mist.  Nowhere to be heard were the meadowlark praising the day, instead there was a raven crowing from a treetop on the next ridge and a field mouse scurried to find shelter in a pile of rocks.<br/><br/>As his mind awoke and his senses returned he heard Jira telling him they needed to get moving and saw the wooden sword sitting next to him.  Finely carved, well as finely carved as one can do with a bad piece of wood and only a couple of hours in the dark, but it was good none the less.  Her stern and somewhat commanding voice had returned and he knew they needed to get moving.  As he sat up the full force of his memories from the previous evening hit him and he once again saw his Aunt and Uncle lying there and the dreams of his Mother Father and brother that faithful day.  He had cried a lot the night before, but he still had some left in him, however today was the first day on his step to manhood.  If Jira is correct then he would no longer have the luxury for such petty emotions, still a single tear dropped on his cheek and as it rolled over his lips he could taste the salty sting.<br/><br/>He reached down and picked up the wooden practice sword and tested it for balance, he was no expert swordsman but he felt he could hold his own.  It felt good in his hand, heavy as his uncles sword, more so than the ones he had made and hid behind the barn and well balanced.<strong>"I promise that the day until we can practice with real swords will not be long off then Jira,"</strong>he commands with confidence and he swings the wooden blade in a graceful arc behind his back bringing it back around and up over his head with a hearty blow that would have meant a mortal wound to an open attacker.  While it looked graceful on the outside he knew inside that it  took far to much concentration still to handle the blade in such a way and promised himself that he would practice at every opportunity.<br/><br/><strong>“Let’s get moving then Jira, to find this man you speak of.  Every minute we waste standing here  is one more minute that thing grows stronger.”</strong><br/><br/><br/><br/>