The closer we got, the clearer the smell became — smoke, roasted meat, wet leather, and something musky that reminded me of Onyx after rain.
The ground dipped and rose in soft waves until the first tents came into view.
Dozens of them — large, round, and built from layered bison hides stretched over bones thicker than tree trunks.
Children ran between them barefoot, shouting and laughing, their voices mixing with the crackle of fires and the rhythmic pounding of drums somewhere deeper inside the camp.
A few of them stopped mid-run when they spotted me and Onyx. Their laughter faltered, replaced by wide-eyed stares.
"Woah…" I breathed, my throat suddenly dry.
Scalaris. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. All alive. All staring.
My heart stiffened and I felt a rush of nervous heat under my scales. I didn't know whether to wave, bow, or just hide behind Onyx's shoulder.
Skylar seemed to sense it and slowed her pace, her grin returning.
"Relax, Faith Ambassador. You look like you're about to bolt."
"I—no, it's just… there are so many of- we always thought they were dead," I whispered, my gaze darting from one face to another.
One older man sitting by a fire tilted his head, squinting at me. His arms were like tree branches, muscles marked with scars, and when he spoke, his voice was deep but not unfriendly.
"Skylar, what did you bring home this time?"
She rolled her eyes. "A traveler. He's a peaceful one. Don't start, Gorren."
He chuckled, showing surprisingly white teeth. "If it walks, she'll bring it," he muttered, earning a few laughs from those nearby.
I straightened my back, trying to look dignified despite the stares.
"Hello!" I said, raising my hand awkwardly. "I come in—uh—peace?"
That earned me even more laughter. A few kids ran closer, peeking from behind a tent pole, whispering and giggling when Onyx snorted.
„Did you bring some food?"
„Of course! And you know that garen!"
Garen crossed his arms and apologized; „you are right! I don't want to anger our singer!"
Skylar nodded and continued leeading me through the camp, gesturing casually at the layout as if giving a tour.
"Bison Tribe's smaller than the others up north. We travel with the herds, set up camp wherever the grass grows thickest. Hunters, tanners, weavers — everyone has a task."
I nodded, fascinated. Everything felt so alive — the smell of fresh bread baking on hot stones, the rhythm of wooden hammers working bone into tools, the hum of voices and laughter.
It was so different from the quiet travel.
„But why are you the only human i see?"
She turned around and looked at me thinking; „The others are out hunting, run back to our kind or are dead."
She turned around and onyx and me followed.
„It's like this…" she stopped for a moment and said hello to an older lady, before continuing; „some years ago, my human tribe was anhilated, how?" she shrugged, „that doesn't even matter now!"
I nodded.
„And as kids we searched refugee here, even though they first doesn't want humans in this camp! But my…now mother and some other lady's took some of us in!"
„Wow…so…?" I couldn't end my question, because a woman stirring a pot gave me a curious look, then smiled warmly. "You hungry, stranger?"
Before I could answer, my stomach growled loud enough for everyone within ten meters to hear.
Skylar burst out laughing. "Guess that's a yes."
I scratched the back of my neck, embarrassed. "Sorry… it's been a while since I ate."
"Then you're in luck," she said, handing me a wooden bowl once we reached the central fire. The stew inside smelled divine — thick, spicy, and full of meat. "Bison and root mix. Careful, it's hot."
I hesitated only for a second before digging in. The first taste nearly made my knees buckle.
It was warm, rich, alive, better than anything I could produce.
When I looked up again, Skylar was watching me, that faint, teasing smile on her lips.
"So… if you want more, tonight is the new moon festival, you have to wait till then."
I swallowed hard, my stomach rumbling "That sounds amazing!"
She grinned, brushing a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear as the firelight painted her features in amber.
"Good answer, Faith Ambassador."
...
The sun was already setting and Skylar, showed me a tent where she and her family slept in and that I could sleep there as well.
Onyx on the other side could roam freely in the camp, what he did without the meat on his back.
The tent Skylar led me to was larger than I expected — its outer layer stitched with dyed bison leather in swirling patterns of red and black. The smell inside was earthy, a blend of smoke, herbs, and old fur.
A soft bed of hides covered the ground, and above, wind chimes made from small bones and feathers swayed gently, whispering each time the wind found its way through the seams.
"This one's mine," Skylar said, lifting a flap aside. "And You… you can stay there for tonight." she showed on a hide in another corner of the round tent," My mother won't mind."
"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude."
She chuckled. "You brought food, remember? That already makes you more welcome than most."
I smiled, „I just carried it. You killed it." though the unfamiliar warmth in my chest made me awkward.
Skylar shrugged; „No one knows that and turned away to put down her dagger and bow, I sat near the small fire pit in the center, staring at the faint glow of embers and listening to the camp outside.
Voices. So many of them.
Laughter, arguments, songs — the sound of life in motion.
For the first time in years, I didn't just hear the wind and my own breathing.
Outside, Onyx neighed, and I caught a glimpse of him beyond the tent's opening — a few children were cautiously approaching, offering him handfuls of dried grass.
He snorted once, but then bent his head to eat, his tail flicking contently.
The kids burst into laughter.
I smiled. "He's already making friends."
Skylar looked over her shoulder, amused. "He's calm."
"Only on the outside," I said with a grin. "You should see him when he's hungry."
That earned me a quiet laugh from her before she sank onto the furs opposite me, cross-legged. The firelight caught in her eyes — that deep, calm blue that seemed to hold stories I couldn't yet read.
"Skylar," I began hesitantly, "that… festival you mentioned. What's it for?"
"The new moon?" She leaned back on her hands. "It's the end of another good hunting cycle. When the sky goes dark, the dungeon listens. We dance, sing, eat, and thank him for keeping the herds close and the winters short."
I nodded slowly, fascinated. "So… a celebration of ends?"
Her smile softened. "And beginnings. Every moon that fades takes something with it. But it also leaves space for new things to grow."
Her words lingered, soft as the fire's crackle. It was just like some talks with Phillip. I smiled and thought back, to the bay, the old temple and our small little house that was warm in the summer and cold in the winters.
But when she spoke again, I just listened.
For a moment, I didn't know what to say. It was strange how easily her voice could calm the restless noise in my head.
"It's really similar of some festes I know," I said finally.
She tilted her head. "I think You are right. Because our priest mentioned something like that it's religious, and…" she pointed at my tattoos under my eye, „you are one of them!"
"Yeah… maybe."
For a while, neither of us spoke. The camp outside grew louder — rhythmic drums began to echo from somewhere near the center. The air carried a faint sweetness, like roasted fruit and honey.
Then with a clap she broke the magical moment and pointed towards the exit; „I need you to wait for me outside, I am going to get ready!"
„Eh..!"
„Now." she commanded but pushed me with a chuckle out of the tent, „you can wait here", and closed the entrance.