The meat was going to spoil soon. What of it had not been eaten on the trip. That made K'ile's stomach turn. He understood needing to wait on the feast, and needing to initiate the first hunt on the first night. But half of the food he'd brought for the tribe's feat was gone now, and the rest was sitting unused. He'd done everything right, securing the feast, the blessing of a female, but the tribe seemed suddenly uninterested in having anyone challenge the Nunh. K'ile wasn't old enough to be too bitter over it; after all, he did not want to become a Nunh for himself. All of this was for the tribe. Moreso, it was for K'luha.
But if the tribe kept this up, being a Nunh would mean nothing. There would be no lovers, no fathers, no families, no heart of strength in the tribe. And K'ile cared about that.
So he ignored everything and cooked. He stirred the salt and ignored the way the white dust of it stung his senses, blocking out every smell until he'd be luck if he could tell old meat from new. It didn't matter. He was going to cook everything. He didn't even care if he did a good job. He'd light the bonfire and cook the feast and dare the tribe to ignore his challenge then.
The tent that stored the food was no larger than a living tent for a small family; they'd never had enough food to need a bigger one. K'ile set all the boxes of meat open next to the salt and a broad ceramic vessel that would hold the coals that were brought to him.
But if the tribe kept this up, being a Nunh would mean nothing. There would be no lovers, no fathers, no families, no heart of strength in the tribe. And K'ile cared about that.
So he ignored everything and cooked. He stirred the salt and ignored the way the white dust of it stung his senses, blocking out every smell until he'd be luck if he could tell old meat from new. It didn't matter. He was going to cook everything. He didn't even care if he did a good job. He'd light the bonfire and cook the feast and dare the tribe to ignore his challenge then.
The tent that stored the food was no larger than a living tent for a small family; they'd never had enough food to need a bigger one. K'ile set all the boxes of meat open next to the salt and a broad ceramic vessel that would hold the coals that were brought to him.