Lowering onto the land, an eagle soared. The tangerine sun was sinking into the horizon as a call echoed past him through the tall, speckled trees.

Aponi was a beautiful girl, just old enough to bare children. She was virtuous, too. Chuchip decided she would make a fine wife. She was eager and bright. And her hips were wide—she would give him many beautiful children.

And so he met her in the middle of chaos, his mother—proud and strong—followed behind him. He offered Aponi a ham of venison and knelt before her. With a smile and kind eyes, she traded him an ear of corn for his ham.

No words were even exchanged. Something they saw in the other’s eyes. The blackness they shared inside their irises spoke louder and clearer than any other words could.

Chuchip left the company of the clan shortly after, seeking some time to himself. The perfect view of the shores of his land was on the tallest cliff. He climbed it almost every day so that he could stare at the water and secretly cry.