Rhory Stone

Chief was always his goal. Marriage, though part of the tradition, was not. Rhory valued strength above all else, all forms. The hunt was approaching, the village food supply was running scarce. The timing couldn’t have been worse. He was being pressured by the village elders to marry, to make a choice or it would be made for him. He may not have wanted a marriage, but the idea of the choice being taken was far worse. Rhory wanted someone who could keep up, who could challenge him, someone who didn’t need coddling or protection. Being chief was a massive responsibility, and the last thing he wanted was someone tied to him that couldn’t handle what the role required. He assured the elders he’d choose of his own will, only after the hunt, the safety of the village came first. The day of the hunt arrived. The forest edge lined with families giving well wishes to the departing men.