pedestal.

the sun was bright upon their back as ajaw makes their way through the tall heather grasses: varying in colors of soft pastel greens and wheat golds.

the territory that ajaw and the holcans traverse now is flat, but it is the looming suntouched mountains that calls to them like a siren's song.

they are so close!

cradled in those mountains is the sacred place. this, they know. they feel it in their bones, hear it in the faint earthsong and starsong calling them there.

a loud snort draws ajaw's attention; head snapping in the burly beasts' direction. startled, ajaw takes a ghosting step back. such a massive, sturdy beast! shedding, curly fur matted along it's thick muscled back. giant boulder-like shoulders that taper into an almost humorously small rear half.

tiny horns curve from the beast's long skull.

prey, instinct tells ajaw. enough meat to feed them all for many days! good for trading, they conspire. subtly, they move, finding a rock rising from the earth to give them a better view of the beast, high above the swaying grasses.

They travel on. They see new things. But now, here, they see something Sabah has not seen in some time and ajaw has evidently never seen.

Creeping to the side of the rock ajaw mounts, Sabah waits, eyes feasting on the beast ahead. 

Buffalo, ajaw. She tells him. Giants. Much meat, thick pelt, sharp horns. More notes. He will now recognize this beast for what it is, should they see another.

sabah, never far, draws nearer.

ajaw's frostbound gaze flickers to her for a moment before it gravitates back to the beast she calls buffalo.

this one wonders ... are the giants hard to hunt? they inquire of sabah, drawing upon her knowledge of lands outside of tikal's claim. their trust is so absolute that they forget at times she was not born of tikal.

that her home had been a casualty of their expansion and that she had come to them, a once lost scorned godless woman.

and look at her now!

how she has blossomed and fit like a missing puzzle piece amongst her sisters.

buffalo, the word feels strange, common in nature slipping from their tongue; honeyed in their accent. they have no word for it in their redsand tongue, though they surmise it may be up to them to create one. for now, the common name is sufficient.

— has many things good for trading during season gift. they give voice to their initial observation; collecting information greedily, like a dragon adding to its goldhoarde.

Ajaw wanted to hunt the beast. He asked Sabah more of what she knew.

Hard, not impossible. It was never impossible. Much muscle. Much muscle the beast had. They would need more to match that of the creature and successfully hunt it.

they think ahead, looking to the future.

the k'in sihaj is sacred to them, important in many ways. to show their wealth, their capabilities. to make peace and trade resources with packs and loners willing. but also, to learn.

a good strategist could glean information from those who showed: from what they brought to trade and what they chose in turn. it was based in speculation but everything, ajaw learned, was important.

everything had meaning, to them. even if it didn't to anyone else.

this one sees, they murmur in contemplation. towards the sunspire mountains their gaze goes.

a bit of a conversation shift but they speak their thoughts aloud, this one believes we are close to the sacred land. the one that would be the foundation of where they built.

perhaps these plains could be one of their hunting grounds ... even if the buffalo were hard to hunt. ajaw does not dismiss the consideration as it takes form within their mind.

Away from hunting, their focus goes. Now, ajaw speaks again on the matter of their to-be sacred land.

Ajaw sees home. So he has made known.

Sabah hopes this true. For she wanted to see this land for her own eyes. To see home again was everything she dreamt of since the day she decided to follow after her ajaw. She'd lost one. Now she anxiously awaited a new one.

this one does. their voice rumbles with utmost confidence. there is no uncertainty, nor would there be. the suntouched peaks would be their home, of this ajaw can feel in the very marrow of their bones.

let us go, ajaw commands. we are almost at the sacred lands. and ajaw is eager to finally reach it now that it is within their grasp.