While walking out of his grandmother’s hut, he ignored a few glances, no doubt the result of the tale of him killing that metal man who happened to kill one of their fellow hunters.

He was certain his name was "Allo". It was a strange name and it was saddening for him to leave so soon. He was a young warrior and showed great promise, but Matheus avenged Allo’s death. So why did he feel guilty?

He felt as if he was the one responsible for Allo's death,  and maybe just maybe he considered that it was his fault...

Shrugging it off, he spotted Markel, his patrol leader, glance at him and speak to him quietly, "Scouts have spotted a group of those metal men heading towards us. There is one with armor that looks different. They have weapons but are not making any haste especially."

"So does that mean they are coming to attack us?" Asked Matheus 

Markel shrugged, "I'm not sure. I don't think so. Their group was reported to Consist of only a dozen men, nowhere near the amount required to take over this camp. more than likely, it's about the little issue we have on our hands," he said the last part aimed more or less at him to remind him of his recklessness.

"Ah...peace talks would be nice I guess-" replied Matheus.

Markel sighed and said impatiently, "You saw how much damage to us that one soldier did now imagine what an army of them could do.”

Normally the boy would've rolled his eyes and ignored the more experienced and more senior Hunter and gatherer, but he did have a point. Just one soldier had killed Allo and left all of them with some sort of injury as the boy’s bruised ribs still throbbed in pain. Although, they were covered in wet leaves and tied together with rope forming a bandage of sorts.

So instead he shrugged and said reluctantly, "I suppose you are correct in that aspect.”

Markel simply said, "Heh"

As time went on, he imagined those men having quite the difficulty making their way through the forest which was..quite thick to say the least.

Eventually, he heard rustling around him,  and he looked to the side to see the tribe’s Chieftain "Man'tha".

"Man'tha" was a beast of a man standing over six feet tall with ancient war markings and his name stemming to him from his family's heritage of taming Panthers.

He also had the reputation for being a ruthless combatant in a fight. His strength being nearly unmatched in physical combat.

He was also known for his soft spot for Matheus, and he figured they may even have been related to Man'tha being related to him as his uncle even.

Although Hunter wasn't fully sure on how exactly they were related. No one would say anything about it other than a distant marriage between their two families.

Anywho.

Eventually, after what felt like ages, the bushes rustled again as the metal men from earlier appeared.

They were clustered together and in the group, one appeared to have less armor overall but had brightly colored clothing on which probably put him as the leader of this group.

The rest also carried those long wooden sticks that made a really loud bang, and they carried them in an upright fashion by their shoulders.

Matheus normally would have laughed, chuckled, or even scoffed at the mention of using a stick of that side in a fight; it would've been heavy and cumbersome thus making it a very unreliable weapon.

While they looked heavy, he did remember their ability to produce an invisible shot that could kill a man with little to no effort in just one shot.

So he knew not to underestimate those things..whatever they were.

Spreading out in a loose circle around the brightly colored man, the man in question stepped forward and held his chin in a proud like gesture...which probably meant he was arrogant and thought that the tribe here was nothing more than primitive savages who knew nothing of civilization and order.

Were they primitive? Perhaps so.

But they weren't uncivilized.

"You are unknown to this land. What brings you here to our camp?" Asked Man'tha in a curious but somewhat stern tone.

The man glanced up and down at the far larger man and seemingly gulped but he said in reply, We are here to discuss an...event that happened yesterday.”

He spoke in a strange accent and some may say he even had a sneer or snobbish style imprint to it.

Matheus didn't like it and he could tell by glancing around the clearing that the feeling was mutual among his other tribesmen.

"Which would be what?" Replied Man'tha.

"It has been said that a group of your people have killed one of my men. We found his body with his neck snapped on the rocks when he hadn't returned for hours after his patrol?”  Said the strange man.

"But how is it that we are responsible for the death of your soldier? Couldn't he of simply tripped instead?" He inquired.

The man shook his head and replied.

"No we found broken arrows nearby and we do not use bows. You are also the closest clan to the shoreline which happens to be the location of our camps," he said.

There was silence for a few moments then Man'tha said, "I know of the report and he will be punished accordingly.”

"And who if I may ask is the one guilty?" He asked.

"For tribe customs, I shall decline sharing his name, ”  he stated after a few moments

The man narrowed his eyes in suspicion almost as if he knew he was lying or hiding something.

Matheus most certainly did, what Man'tha just said, was a complete and utter lie. They had no customs whatsoever within the tribe that spoke of hiding the identity of one guilty.

He imagined two or more factors were in play with his response.

One. Matheus imagined Man'tha simply had let his soft spot for him get the better of him.

Two. He figured that these strange people had little to no understanding of how their tribal systems worked thus allowing them to possibly slip a couple of lies here and there.

After what seemed like hours the men finally said, "very well..farewell..for now," he eyed Man'tha strangely before the group turned around and left the camp.

Man'tha sighed and said in a low voice,"Hunter come here.”.

The boy slowly got up and walked slowly to the tribal leader and asked

"What is it Chieftain..?" 

He turned and looked at the young boy dead in the eye.

"Did you shoot those arrows?" He asked him.

The boy was silent for a moment then said,"Yes...yes I did.”

Man'tha let out a huff of breath then asked, "And did you kill that man?" 

This time Matheus was silent for a few moments, long enough for the Chieftain to say, "speak.now".

He then said quietly, "Yes I did".

"Say it louder boy" said Man'tha.

"Yes I did!" He said far more louder now.

The clearing got quiet as Man'tha said slowly, "Due to your reckless actions I here-by sentence you to a week of isolation in the woods.".

Matheus mentally groaned.

A week of isolation in the woods was a period of time that for a week the individual found guilty of a crime or offense specifically unjust killing and/or attacking and trespassing was a sentence that was more of an annoyance than a curse.

The one found guilty would spend a week fully alone within the wilderness and do whatever it took to survive.

Sometimes they DIDN'T survive the trial.

If they tried to return to the camp before the week was over and they were found by their fellow tribesmen, they would be publicly shamed and cast out for an even longer period of time.

"Well..if I must then," said Matheus slowly.

"Starting now you are here-by exiled for one weeks time if you are found before the time has ended, you will be shamed and cost out even longer," he started. 

Matheus could only reply as Man'tha said "now go."

So much for that soft spot.

Turning around and ignoring all the stares and looks the rest of his tribe gave him, he grabbed his bow and arrows which he was in fact allowed to do.

He could only bring with him what he could carry and most knew of his abilities with a bow and arrow so needless to say he did have a pretty good chance of surviving the week length ordeal.

The sentence would give him a decent amount of time to himself and to think things over as he did feel strangely guilty over causing the death of not just another human, but also his fellow tribesmen which his vigil would be out tonight.

Stopping by to pay his last respects to the fallen Hunter,  and even a rare "I'm sorry" from the boy to the Hunter who was wrapped in leaves. 

Tonight he would be cremated over a massive open fire then his ashes and remains would be buried within the earth in a special pit behind the shaman's hut.

Thus allowing his spirit to become one with nature and continue to protect and watch over tribe Foŕća.

And no-one stopped him. It would've been even more disrespectful to not pay his respects to a fellow Hunter even if they never really talked to one another in life.

Stopping to cast one more glance at his tribe watching him silently and with staring eyes he said quietly, "I'll be back...eventually." 

And walked through the gates to the camp into the wild untamed wilderness.