The long plains were broken up by many great hills, and over these went Vyka and his escort, every now and then they would climb to the top of a rise, and Sukish would trill in the whistler’s tongue of his people, sending the sound beyond the hearing of many shouts. They waited, and the trill was inevitably returned, but to Vyka’s surprise, from many places.

“Why so many?” He asked curiously. “Isn’t it so that you only have one whistler at a time, answer the long calls?”

Sukish grinned, “Normally yes, but this is a special time, you had not visited us before and there was no reason to speak of it, but it is the bride time. The families of all Spirit Horse people come together for this. As you of the Cave Children steal brides, we trade in them between our distant cousins. Every five summers we come together, so that the girls who are of age may find mates. You will see, only be patient.”

“Am I permitted?” Vyka asked with sudden anxiousness as he looked up at the behemoth beside him.

“Yes, our blood flows through the long water together, my sister bears your child, you are a brother to me, and so to my people. You are in no danger.” Sukish said, slapping him hard on the back.

Vyka winced, “Except from your affection, that there is dangerous.” He replied, and Sukish grinned sheepishly.

“What of you? Do you seek a mate for yourself, and if so, do you go with him or would he stay with you?” Vyka asked further.

Sukish shrugged, “I will stay, if the right man wishes me, he must remain where I am, I cannot bear the thought of leaving my range.” His voice turned mournful as he answered, and his face turned away, ensuring that his haunted eyes could not be seen.

Vyka was instantly apologetic, “I am sorry, brother, I did not mean to bring up painful thoughts. You mourn him still?”

“I think I will always mourn him. But he sacrificed himself for me, therefore I must live the best life that I can. He would wish nothing else, he was that kind of man.” Sukish replied and wiped his eyes briefly and focused ahead of themselves as they went up another hill. Vyka was quiet, leaving his blood brother to the quietness of his memories until they crested the hill.

Vyka’s eyes went wide as the base of a hill as he looked down into the lower land laid out in front of him. “By stones and darkness... I have never seen so many, manies before.”

Sukish stopped at the crest and looked out proudly, “Yes, this is all of us, the hunts have been good, few have been taken early by the gods in the last few years, or so I have heard. The Everplains have seen few of our people enter them, though we lost some against the Long Water people, our numbers are back up as the young have come of age.”

“The Long Water people... they follow the way of the Water Serpent, don’t they?” Vyka asked with a deep frown on his face.

“They are, and yes, I know, you begrudge them that over your tribe’s losses, I took two of their lives, so let that comfort you over your dead.” Sukish remarked, and they began to descend the hill after providing one more high pitched whistle to alert the many Spirit Horse people of Sukish’s return.

‘There are easily three or four here, for every one of the Cave Children as we are now. I did not think so many could exist altogether.’ Vyka thought with awe when they came to the base of the hill and Sukish led him to where a great pile of sticks was being piled together.

“Wait here, the chief and his wife will hear no words of the Cave Children until this is complete. I will come again to you soon. I must first go add my part to the pile.” Sukish said in a rare serious tone.

So Vyka waited, and he watched. In ones and twos the Spirit Horse tribe’s members from various families brought sticks to the pile until it was as tall as a man and as big around as three abreast. When the last member of the tribe, an elderly man stooped with age with a thick white beard cast his stick to the pile with an underhand toss, an equally old looking woman approached the pile.

“Spark...” She whispered in a raspy voice with her palm out before the wood, and from her palm sprang a light, a single spark just as she had intended. It caught the wood and spread from branch to branch and twig to twig. The fire grew large and hot, and as the flames licked at the infinite sky, the many manies of the Spirit Horse tribe and all its families gathered before the flames.

Vyka watched as they took their seats, one beside the other and swayed back and forth while the old woman drew some herbs from a bowl in her hand and tossed them into the crackling blaze.

Vyka looked over his shoulder as he felt a presence behind him, and relaxed his body when he saw it was Sukish. The behemoth of a man leaned down, “You need only be quiet and wait, this may take some time, but when it is done, you will give your words.” Vyka nodded his assent, and Sukish moved past and took a seat in a line directly in front of where Vkya stood at the back.

The swaying slowly came into sync and a long, low hum began somewhere, it was in turn taken up by others until it spread all around the circle. The youngest were closest to the flames, followed by adult women behind the children, followed by the elderly save for the old woman, and finally the adult men. The back and forth swaying continued and the pitch of the hum rose and fell as the Sun set on the horizon and evening settled over them all.

Still the flames burned, and when shadows were cast by the flames, the old woman opened her hands and began to chant. The smoke that rose from the flames began to change shapes, to form the roiling shapes of galloping horses. On the opposite side of the fire, an elderly man approached and began to speak, his voice was cracked with age but filled with the passion and vigor of youth as words spilled out like the long waters overflowing their banks.

“In the long ago, it was the time before horses, our father's fathers and mother's mothers were hungry. Our father’s fathers and our mother's mothers were cold. They walked the plains and endured the agony of want all year long. They feasted on rot when they found it, and shivered in the winter. For they were no hunters of the terrible beasts. They were weak...”

The smoke’s shape shifted again, the smoke horses galloping around had vanished, and became fleeing figures of men and women and the wolves, bears, and other terrible beast shapes sprang into being in the smoke, and snatched the shapes of people, and pulled them into nothingness to vanish.

“Then the father of our fathers and the mother of our mothers, desperate to see their children live and not die, prayed to the spirits that they show mercy, to send something to eat, and such was the noise they made, that the spirits could not sleep. They looked for the noise, and found the source in the wails of our ancestors and their children." The old man's voice halted briefly as the white smoke changed shape again, and became a gathering of humans.

"Some spirits were moved to pity by the wailing, others were simply troubled when the long cries into the night kept them from ever resting. So the tired spirits created the Everplains, thinking to run far from the noise, and abandoning the living. But those spirits who were moved to pity, took counsel with one another, and said, 'We will take the shape of a beast fit for the living to slay. It should be strong, with ample meat to feed them all. Large, so that it's hide will warm many in winter. We will call it the horse, and we will take its form to care for them with the ending of our lives. And we will make it so that they become horses when they die, to feed their young tomorrow as we feed them today, and when they die as horses, they will come to us in that form, so that they may run the Everplains with its endless Spring as a reward for their two lives and two deaths.'' And this they did, becoming the first horses."

“So ancient father and ancient mother slew, and ate the first horse to come to them. The great bodies offered much meat, but also hides for clothing to protect them from the cold, bones for tools and weapons. Thus they lived, and the mother of mothers bore many children, and others who lived through the dying times of other lands, found their way in turn to the plains where horses now roamed, and became the husbands and wives of the children reared by the father and mother of the plains, and they also hunted the horses. And when the father of fathers and mother of mothers laid themselves to the plains, they too, returned as horses, offering themselves to our ancestors as all will offer ourselves to the young one day.” The old man held his hand up before him, where the white smoke shifted from horse to human and human to horse in cycle after cycle.

“And the children became the fathers and mothers of all our families, so it became the time of horses, and the endless circle goes on. We die, offer our bodies to the plains, become horses that will feed the children of our children, and thereby our spirits ascend to the Everplains, where there is no death, and we may run forever through an endless spring.” As he spoke, the smoke shifted shape again, becoming a long plain over which horses seemed to run tirelessly and without end.

The long swaying and gentle rhythmic hum went on and on as the story was told, and as the old man ceased to speak, so did the low chanting of the elderly woman. With the dying of their voices, the magic that gave life to the smoke faded also, and only then did the humming end.

Together, as if from long practice, the elderly pair said in unison, “Now I go, to become a horse and run the plains. Hunt me, feast on my flesh, let me warm you with my hide, as my embrace warmed my children when they were small. Do not mourn me, know that you do not take my life, I give it freely, now and in the future and will run the Everplains with my fathers and mothers, and we will wait with endless joy for you to join us.”

The elderly pair then drew out their knives of stone, and cut their own throats, spilling their blood into the flames. While life fled from the elderly pair and fountained into the flames, extinguishing them at the core, the entirety of the tribe let out a horse like whinny tinged with a hint of loss, as their two lives as people ended, and somewhere on the plains, their two lives as horses began.

Near to the place where he stood, Vyka heard a baby’s cry in the dark amidst the whinny.

Only when the smoke became a bare tendril rising from the center of the great flame, and only tiny dots of light were visible and fading in number, did the people of the Spirit Horse tribe start to stand up. Sukish rose in front of where Vyka stood, and turned around to face the member of the Cave Children tribe. “That was... I do not have words.” Vyka said in a small voice.

“Such as it is, with us. The oldest of the old tell the story before the fire when they can no longer run even a little, and they die with the flames, to come back and run again as horses to feed and clothe us again. Then they can run the Everplains forever.” Sukish said solemnly.

“What happens now?” Vyka asked uncertainly.

Sukish wore a boyish smile that was somehow ‘fitting’ to him despite his muscled and intimidating body and square set face. Somewhere in the dark, a low tapping began on a hollow log, and a few different voices lifted in song. “Now those of age will choose their mates. Males will do their best to impress like stallions. Who desires a girl, must be able to run beside her, who desires a man, must keep up with him, so they will chase one another, and those who catch up with one another, will lie together. The boys will be men, the girls will be women, and tomorrow after we feast together, the families will part for our ranges for five summers more.”

“While that is happening,” he said, “I will take you to the chief and his wife for you to give your words. Follow me, brother.” Sukish said politely and as many smaller fires sprang up to light up the night. The light was accompanied by the sound of pounding feet as the young chased each other through the dark, and the behemoth led him to a slightly larger flame set back aways from the bonfire.

“Chief Acosta, Mira, I bring you Vyka of the Cave Children, who is my brother by the gift of life to my sister. He brings words from Chief Makine.” Sukish said in a deep and booming voice befitting his large broad chest.

Vyka saw their faces and bodies lit up by the fire in front of them, Acosta had long, black hair hanging down his back, his arms were bare and showed many small, self inflicted scars on his left arm, and his eyes were brown as a healthy tree trunk and just as hard, in his lap was a hefty stone ax that had obviously seen abundant use, from the many red stains on it.

At his side was Mira, whose breasts were ample even beneath the horse hide wrap she wore around her torso. Her blue eyes gleamed with intelligence and what skin that was bare was tanned by the sun and amply muscled. Her hair was as long as her husbands but braided and brown, it dangled over her shoulder in front of her. The pair sat in like postures atop a pair of rocks, their feet planted flat on the grass and their forearms resting on their knees.

“We remember you.” Acosta said bluntly, “You came to steal a woman from us over two years ago.” His voice was rough, but lacked the note of hostility Vyka half expected.

“That, we will not forget. It is not often someone not of the long water, leaps into the rush at all, let alone to save someone not of their tribe.” Mira added in a voice as soft as a deer pelt. “Now tell me first, how is Makine, and what is it that he wishes from our tribe?”

Vyka’s face turned grave, “He lives, but he is less than happy, a terrible thing has happened, and he wants you to help us.”

The husband and wife traded a troubled expression. Looking back at Vyka, Acosta’s face became grim, “Makine and I have not always gotten along, but he is a mighty warrior, what could happen that could trouble him?”

“A monster, a terrifying monster. I saw it, and...” Vyka swallowed hard and took a deep breath, “it fits the stories of dragons, at least some of them. Long tail, scales like a lizard or snake, long maw. The Red Ax came in greater numbers than ever before, they sought to use our waters, we fought and killed them, but before we could end it, the monster appeared. Makine was wounded, we fled and thought to leave the dead for the monster to eat, that he might go away.”

“But?” Mira asked with a rising sense of dread.

“But when I returned to scout, it appeared that not only did the beast eat nobody, it appears that it left with the surviving Red Ax members, my chief fears what may happen if their tribe commands such a terrible being. He asks that you send your people to trade with them, and to learn what happens among their numbers.” Vyka went quiet then, holding his head up as the couple looked back at him, seeking some sign of falsehood, hoping that his story was a fit of madness, and not finding what they hoped for.

“What does Chief Makine offer?” Mira asked simply. “Your chief asks us to risk our lives and the Red Ax are a fierce people. I doubt they will be more peaceful if they truly have a dragon among them.”

“He offers you access to our waters, including our fish, with such abundance as our home provides, you could save more horse meat, dry it out, and ensure that the winter will not be a lean time, a dying time. Is that not worth it?” Vyka asked confidently as he mimicked their posture and leaned forward as if to dare them to deny the value of his offer.

“I dislike the thought of helping Makine.” Acosta replied bluntly. “More than once your tribe has stolen or tried to steal women from mine, and that would include my wife.”

“Husband, were you any other man, I would not have needed to be stolen.” She smirked a bit at that, and then added, “His people keep ours strong, and when their word was given, it was always kept. Besides, if Vyka says all these things, it must be true, and I do not want to be caught by surprise when a monster comes to us to rob us of our lives. We do not want to create a new dying time.” As Mira argued, Acosta listened, and when she finished, he lowered his eyes to look into the fire between them all.

“Yes... that is a point as sharp as my ax. Alright, we will send two or three of ours with hides to offer for their pelts. Let us see what moves among the Red Ax. But now, it is late, if you would stay the night, our fires are yours, and you may go back in the morning.” Acosta offered courteously, “If you wish the warmth of a woman, look to the fire tenders, they who have lost husbands and do not want another, or who will bear no more children to the tribe. I am sure one will welcome your touch before you leave.”

“I am grateful, and will take up your offer.” Vyka said with equal manners, and rose from where he sat, to move out amongst the many dancing flames, while out in the darkness, he heard many a cry of pleasure.