The first step

Dust is wafting up from the steppes as the scorching sun burns the lands that the orcs have now called home. A wolf flashes by, his furry coat glued with thick dust as he disappears into a small bush nearby. A triumphant bark is heard, and the magnificent beast soon comes hopping out of the little piece of foliage with a small beast in between his broad maws. Greeting him is a gloved, orcish hand, motioning for the worg to drop the prey to which it complies. The prey, a sizeable possum, has an arrow stuck into it, which the wolf-masked orc takes out with a firm yank.

“This be now yours, Kraag. What do we do with it?” The bigger orc turns around, showing the dead animal to a smaller orcling who appears to be following in his wake. The child by the name of Kraag takes it, looking down its dead state before he looks back up to the bigger orc.

“Make… sure it’s dead?”

A little smile can be seen from underneath the wolf mask, and a dusty hand is lifted to ruffle the orcling’s gathering of black hair, a part of it tugged back into a little braid, as he gets up to motion both child and worg to follow him.

“That too,” the wolf masked orc known as Kozgugore responds. “But Shrewd be pretty thorough with his prey as soon as he caught but a glimpse of it. That be a good shot you delivered, friend. Next up, you thank its spirit for delivering you the means to survive for another day. For granting you food and warmth in colder days to come. And whatever more aid its resources will give us. After all…” the orc looks back to his son, granting him a subtle nod to finish the sentence.

“We… don’t let anything go to waste?” Kraag looks back up to his father uncertainly, hoping to guess for the right response after all the things he has been taught about the hunt in the safety of a hut so far.

The bigger orc nods, sending the boy an approving smile as he waves his hand forward. “That be right. Very good, pup. Come on. We’ll find a suitable place to take care of just that.”

Less than an hour later, the two are sat on a cliff overlooking the dusty steppes by a makeshift camp, Kozgugore having instructed Kraag on how to skin the animal by example. Making sure to keep an eye on the little orc still, as he goes about his first practise on how to handle a knife like that, he occasionally glances out over the red and yellow panorama, his thoughts trailing off.

Back when he was the child’s age, he wouldn’t even be allowed to go on any hunts with his father. Those were different times, after all. Hunters were still plentiful, as was prey, and the clan would tend to any other remaining needs. These are more independent times, more so now that his mate has disappeared, leaving him to tend to three children on his own. Ever since Morgeth left, he has barely had any time to take care of his own matters, constantly having to keep a wary eye on the three mischievous orclings. Thankfully enough, the eldest, Kraag, has become old enough to finally learn the basics of the tricks of the trade. It’s about time too, as the little orc has been hounding his father to take him on a hunt more than enough times now. Just like the chieftain did when he was still young. Perhaps one day, Kraag will be skilled enough to tend to himself, or even to tend for his younger brothers and sisters. For now, Kozgugore will have to take care of all that himself. After all, if he wouldn’t, so he argues, these children will be doomed for the rest of their lives. It was he himself that always said that parentless children would be almost guaranteed to end up as peons, not having any example to look to or anyone to teach them how to fight, hunt, or any other kind of trade. He’s not about to let that happen to his very own children after all that trouble.

And then there’s his mate. She who left after a volatile argument between the two. His hopes are still set on recovery, hoping Morgeth will come around and realise the errors of her more recent ways. What little run-ins he’s had with her ever since did not exactly offer any kind of hope for any such recovery so far. In fact, he could see the sanity fading away from her, the darkness that he so scorned her for taking her in even more. He would offer her back home just for that, just to make sure she wouldn’t decline any further, but this is her burden to bear and fight to win. It’s a heavy burden for him, knowing there’s little he can do until she realises this herself, but he will have to remain strong. For her, for the little ones, and for the tribe. It would be foolish to show off his weakness in front of the tribe now, as he realises full-well the importance of having to maintain a strong exterior for the sake of it all. Show any kind of weakness, and they will all the more easily see an opening to usurp him or to hit him in a weak spot. After all, it was Sadok who raised part of the issue only recently, questioning the line of chieftains in the tribe. Kozgugore would not blindly bestow that title upon his son, should that time one day come, but he knows all too well that there may be others that may prey upon leadership of the tribe as well. It has happened in the past, and it may still happen again. In spite of it all, he still knows that one day, Morgeth will be strong enough to find her way back to him, with the same strength, confidence and devotion she once carried. Then, the pretending out in public can come to an end.

His eyes finally dart back to Kraag, realising he had all but forgotten about the orcling and his handiwork, before he grunts alarmingly and leans forward to grasp Kraag’s hands for guidance. “Watch it, pup. Don’t hold it like that or you’ll cut yourself. It may just be a skinning knife, but that don’t mean it won’t cut you up if you don’t watch it.”

He guides the boy’s hands accordingly, making sure he’s skinning into the right direction in the right position as Kraag follows the movements with wide, open eyes, somewhat hesitant to take matters into his own hands still.

“My hands are getting sticky,” he complains. “I can’t hold it well.”

“Then watch what I do. Here. If you keep your hand on this end, it be a lot smoother already. See? Let me show you.”

As Kozgugore takes matters, and the bloodied beast, into his own hands, he shows Kraag step by step on how to treat the prey and its harvest. At least this serves as a suitable distraction from all the concerns and all the troubles he’s facing elsewhere. It would be all too easy to just run and to forget about it all, leaving the tribe and the Horde behind to tend to these kind of personal matters that have gone unattended for far too long. He knows that such thoughts are a blasphemy however, and that his duties lie with the tribe as much as they lie with his family. That is why moments like these are important to have. To focus on the little things, and to make them count. Even small animals like these require the respect they deserve if they’re to be killed by a future line of his blood. A line that shouldn’t forget the ways of old in this ever-changing world.