Moonlit vow

12.Busy tribe

Thinking about the day's plan, Iris woke up early, excitement written all over her face as she prepared in the cave. After spending days making dried fish and not stepping out of the tribe, she felt as though she was turning into dried fish herself. Finally, she could head to the place they had planned to visit. A small thrill stirred in her heart as she treated the journey like a trip. Though the road ahead would be tiring, she was fully prepared for it.

Along the way, Iris frequently looked up to admire the surrounding scenery. The sound of birds chirping and the rustling wind filled her ears, adding to her delight. Running through the forest, the fresh air invigorated her. Suddenly, her eyes stopped on a patch of bushes, where she noticed a few thriving chili plants. Her eyes lit up as she approached them and took in their spicy aroma, her mouth watering in anticipation.

"These chilies are such a rare find!" Iris exclaimed excitedly, bending down to pick a few.

Standing next to her, Leiand frowned slightly, looking puzzled. He didn’t understand the purpose of these small red fruits.

“They’re chilies!” Iris explained while plucking them. “Their flavor is very spicy, making them perfect as a seasoning to enhance the taste of food. Eating chili in the winter can even help keep you warm.”

“This is food?” Leiand picked up one of the red, pungent fruits. As a werewolf, most of the tribe’s food consisted of meat from hunts and a few simple plants. Vegetables were rarely eaten, let alone condiments. People were more concerned with filling their stomachs than enjoying flavor.

Leiand stroked his chin, clearly uninterested in this new crop's purpose, and asked doubtfully, “What do you mean by spicy? We wolves like the taste of meat. Can we even get used to this spicy flavor?”

Iris couldn’t help but laugh, finding his question endearing. “Trust me, once you try it, you’ll feel like something’s missing without it in your food.”

Though Leiand remained skeptical, he couldn’t argue with Iris’s enthusiasm. Every idea of hers had improved the tribe’s life. So, he nodded and took a deep breath. “I trust you!”

Iris chuckled and continued collecting chilies, her mind already envisioning the delicious dishes they would inspire. But this was just a small discovery along the way. What truly excited her was still the destination: the place with the salty rocks!

Finally, after a day of trekking, they arrived at their destination. When Iris saw the sight before her, she froze in amazement.

A vast salt mine spread out before them, the white salt crystals covering the ground like a shimmering silver ocean. A faint salty scent filled the air, and the abundant salt resource immediately sparked countless plans and ideas in Iris’s mind.

“Leiand! This place is incredible!” Iris exclaimed, turning to him with eyes sparkling with excitement. “Do you realize? If we can refine this salt and bring it back, we can preserve more game. We could even trade the surplus salt with other tribes!”

Leiand’s eyes lit up, clearly intrigued by her idea.

But a practical issue loomed: how would they transport these precious salt crystals back to the tribe?

Leiand picked up a salt crystal and frowned, hesitant. Transporting such a large amount of salt was no small feat. The werewolves of the tribe were strong, but a long journey carrying heavy loads would be arduous and fraught with danger. The weight and quantity of the salt posed a significant challenge.

He looked at Iris with a trace of helplessness in his eyes. “There’s so much salt. It’ll be hard to bring it back.”

Iris nodded, fully aware of the difficulty. Relying solely on the tribe’s strength, transporting the salt would be an enormous challenge, wasting time and resources. During autumn, most tribe members focused on hunting to gather food for the winter. Diverting them for salt transport wouldn’t be an option the wolf king would approve of.

Her mind raced as she tried to come up with a practical solution. Then, an idea struck her. “We need more tools!” Iris exclaimed, quickly running through the simplest methods for making transport carts in her head. “Got it! If we can build simple wooden carts, we can reduce the burden of carrying all this salt.”

Leiand’s eyes showed a flicker of approval, but he furrowed his brow again. “But the tribe has never made tools like that before. It’ll take time and effort to figure out how to build them.”

Iris smiled confidently and patted Leiand on the shoulder. “Don’t worry! I can make them. Once we’re back, I’ll get a few non-hunters to help pull the carts, and we’ll bring the salt back in a few trips.”

With that, the two began gathering their things and set off toward the tribe.

Iris looked out at the distance, silently calculating her next steps. There was much to do, and winter was approaching fast.

By the time they emerged from the forest late at night, they were nearing the edge of the tribe. In the distance, smoke curled gently into the sky. The caves of the tribe stood quietly at the foot of the mountain. Iris and Leiand felt their tension melt away as the sight of home came into view, their steps growing lighter.

“We’re finally home!” Iris clapped her hands, her heart warm with joy.

Hearing her, Leiand turned to look at her, his voice tender. “Yes, back to our home.”

That day, Leiand rose early, as he usually did. After a simple farewell to Iris, he led a group of tribespeople out for a hunt. Once he had left, the cave fell silent again. Iris tidied up their bedding, sat by the entrance with a cup of warm herbal tea in hand, and gazed at the distant forest, recalling the idea she had thought of the previous day.

Without delay, Iris quickly stood up, grabbed her tools, and headed into the forest. She found several sturdy trees and carefully split their trunks into strips of wood with her blade, ensuring they were the right thickness. Using durable ropes, she fastened the strips into a frame and attached four wooden wheels at the base. The process was tedious, and she failed numerous times, but with her meticulous thinking and patience, Iris gradually pieced the wooden parts together into a simple cart.

As dusk fell, Iris finally secured the last strip of wood. Exhausted, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and gazed at the cart in front of her, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “I have to admit, I’m a genius!” she exclaimed, praising her own handiwork.

Noticing the dimming sky, Iris guessed that Leiand would return soon. She pushed the cart to the center of the square. On the flat ground, it moved smoothly, immediately drawing a crowd of curious tribespeople.

“Iris, what is this? It looks much easier than carrying things on your back!” a young tribesman asked.

“This is a cart,” Iris explained with a smile. “It can be used to transport heavy items like game, wild fruits, or even the fish we caught the other day. Try pushing it.”

Leiand returned from the hunt just in time to see the growing crowd in the square. Walking over, he saw Iris, her face glistening with sweat, standing beside the newly crafted cart. Warmth filled his chest as he approached her. In a low voice, he asked, “Is this the idea you mentioned yesterday?”

Iris nodded, a proud smile on her face.

Leiand gave the cart a push and found it sturdier than he had expected. He wheeled it around the tribe, growing more and more impressed. He silently marveled at Iris’s ingenuity. “With this, transporting salt stones will no longer be a problem. We’ll need to make a few more of these—they could be quite useful.” He added, “Especially for the exchange gatherings. This cart will definitely come in handy.”

As more tribespeople gathered, their interest in the cart grew. Young werewolves eagerly sought Iris’s guidance, hoping to build carts for their families. Seeing this, Iris had a new idea: some of the older werewolves, who were injured or unable to hunt, could be taught to create useful items for the tribe. This would not only give them a sense of purpose but also help solve practical problems for the tribe.

After consulting Leiand, Iris selected two quick-thinking elder werewolves who showed great enthusiasm for cart-making. Patiently, she explained each step, from selecting the right wood to securing the wheels, ensuring every detail was covered with care.

Initially, the two elders were nervous, but under Iris’s encouragement, they quickly found their rhythm. They focused intently, occasionally discussing problems with one another as they assembled their first cart piece by piece.

“I never thought these old bones could still be useful!” one of the elders exclaimed as he looked at the cart he had crafted with his own hands. His voice trembled slightly, but it was filled with pride and gratitude. The other elder, too, broke into a rare smile. “Indeed, I never imagined we could still contribute to the tribe. It’s all thanks to Iris. Leiand is fortunate to have such a wise partner!”

From that day on, the tribe gradually produced more carts. The two elders not only became increasingly skilled but also began using their creative minds to improve and innovate, making sturdier and more practical carts.

Under the golden autumn sunlight, Leiand pushed a cart loaded with salt stones along the path leading back to the tribe. Behind him stretched a line of similar carts, all filled to the brim.

The strong werewolves pulled the carts in an orderly formation. Though their faces bore traces of fatigue, their eyes shone with hope for the future. The trip to the salt mines had been grueling and time-consuming, but the salt stones they brought back would greatly improve the quality of life for the entire tribe.

When they returned to the tribe, the carts loaded with salt stones drew the attention of many. Women and young werewolves gathered excitedly, touching the coarse salt blocks and marveling at the bounty of this large-scale harvest.

“It’s all here—nothing was lost!” Leiand said to Iris as he approached her. His tone carried a hint of pride. Patting the dusty cart, he added in a low voice, “We couldn’t have brought back this much salt without your carts.”

Iris nodded, her gaze sweeping over the salt stones on the carts. “Next, we need to process these salt stones. That’s the most important task!” she said softly.

From that day on, the tribe launched into a “salt-boiling frenzy.” The entire community was busier than ever before. Iris led the women in daily tasks of boiling salt and curing meat. The salt stones were crushed and placed in stone pots, water was added, and smoke rose as the saltwater slowly evaporated into glistening crystals. The women worked tirelessly, stirring the saltwater, collecting the crystallized salt, and curing fresh game to prepare it for drying and storage.

Meanwhile, the men remained busy as well. Each morning, the hunting teams ventured deep into the forest, determined to catch more game to stockpile for the impending winter. Though the game in the forest grew scarcer, the tribespeople pressed on, venturing further into the wilderness to bring back their spoils.

Even the elders and children joined this great tribal effort.

Elders helped clean and cut game near the caves, preparing it for curing. Children flocked around Iris, eagerly helping transport salt crystals and gather firewood. Every member of the tribe contributed in their own way.

By the final day of autumn, all the work was finally completed. The tribe carefully stored the last batch of salt, their faces brimming with the joy of accomplishment.