Dohat’e, Honovi and Tohopka carefully follow the small tracks in the snow.  To be honest, they need not look too hard.  She is so small that they easily keep up with her as she bounds to the North.  They have no problem picking out her fawn-colored coat against the white snow and dark trunks of the surrounding trees.  Each man looks forward to being with friends and family again and the doe seems to be heading unerringly toward the site the Cheveyo typically use this time of year to make their camp.   Dohat’e knew he would become tribe leader and that this particular year their duty would be harder than most.  Caring for and protecting a newborn elk is difficult during the best of times and with the Venier sure to try and enact revenge, the Cheveyo would need to be more vigilant than ever.  This does not dishearten the Shaman however, he instead smiles with the knowledge that he has made some very powerful and honorable allies.  While they may be far to the south he is certain that should he call for their help again, the people who call themselves Travance would be sure to answer.

*     *     *     *     *

Douglas drew a shuddering breath and immediately recognized the battle was over.  Vark, while he had captured and sacrificed the elk, had ultimately failed.  They had been so close to defeating these Southrons.  The power they had received from the Goddess was incredible, but still it was not enough.  He hid in the brush next to the field until everyone had left the battlefield then and began his trek to Ulffr.  He would not look forward to the return home, for the Warchief would not be happy about his son…