Off on the Journey!
The beastkin tribes had only shifted to a nomadic lifestyle about twenty years ago. Even that came after a full decade of basically fleeing from invaders in constant battles, with just the last ten years allowing us to claim the title of "nomads" with any real foundation. So, our base and culture still felt awkward for true nomads—we were total newbies by their standards.
In a situation like that, what happens when the first massive migration in nomadic history kicks off?
"No, seriously, it'll be a pain to dig that out later!"
"Hey! Eat this quick! 'We'll eat when we get there'? Did you even hear how far we're going?"
"Squad 5! Squad 5, where are you?! Assemble, Squad 5!!!"
"What're you doing right now?"
"Paying our respects to the plains that've taken care of us all this time."
"...Mind if I join?"
It turns into total chaos.
After finishing my meeting and returning to dismantle the tent, load the wagons, and wander around the tribe, the hectic atmosphere hit me full force. There were folks with no clue how to estimate for a long trip. Others overpacking way too much. Even by my past life's standards, it wasn't easy—imagine how complicated it must've been for these somewhat uncivilized barbarians with their lower level of sophistication.
"Look, these are just stuff! We gotta shrink the space, right?"
"...But Rippling Earth, these treasures are so..."
"Argh! I'll scrounge you some decent ones later, so toss 'em!"
It even applied to the top 1% of beastkin: the elders. There was Bear Elder, sweating bullets with his arms full of random stones, getting an earful. The woman scolding him had small deer antlers sprouting from her head.
One of the seven elders of the beastkin tribe. Deer Elder. Rippling Earth Serian.
"Fine, fine. I get it. I won't. You're right..."
"About time! Act your age for once! I'm off!"
"See you shortly. Take care."
After unleashing a barrage, the victorious Deer Elder departed, leaving Bear Elder to glumly(?) unload his stones.
His face looks even darker than when I misunderstood him...?
He seemed defeated by the rocks themselves, pride wounded. Unable to let go completely, he snuck one back into his pocket while glancing around.
...For Bear Elder's honor, I pretended not to see and headed back to the wagon.
......
Climbing into the wagon loaded with kids and luggage, I spotted them tinkering away busily. A quick look around showed they'd turned the inside into a little home away from home, unable to resist.
"Ursa, whaddya think? Cool, right!"
A kid with a deer tail swishing approached proudly. Probably the ringleader.
"It's great. This setup could last not a month, but a whole year. You do this, Peak?"
"Yup!"
I genuinely approved. They'd organized the haphazard luggage to free up space, then laid down the hay, wool, and cloth we'd used as bedding to make a nice cushy floor. As a deer beastkin in charge of the tribe's construction, he had a knack for this stuff.
He could use that talent to help tidy bedding in the mornings. Patting his head while plotting to dump bedding duty on Peak, I watched his ears perk up happily.
Jealous of that, the other kids clamored for their share.
"Hey, Peak! No fair. We did all the work!"
"Yeah! Yeah! Oh, Ursa sis, check this out? I did this part~?"
I stroked Sonya's head as she pushed in for praise too.
"Yeah, yeah. Good job, Sonya. Nice sense."
"Hehehe."
"Basha! C'mere, don't pout. I'll praise you too."
"N-no. I wasn't, like, doing it for praise or anything. I just stated the facts accurately, that's all..."
Unlike the beaming Sonya, wolf kid Basha grumbled tsundere-style. But he still sidled up, offering his head—peak kid behavior.
After bopping Basha on the head—he freaked out with a "Why?!"—I patted the other kids' butts for their hard work and scanned the interior again.
Hmm. That pile looks shaky.
The luggage shoved into the corner to make space towered precariously, at least three heads taller than me. One bump and it'd collapse. Probably chucked up there. Even light stuff needed care, so I grabbed rope from outside and tied it down tight.
As I worked, footsteps approached.
*Knock knock.*
Turning at the wagon tap, a horse beastkin with a lush black mane stood there.
"Kids ready to go?"
"Yeah, Black Mane. All set. Kids are here too."
"Haha, you're a kid yourself. We'll head out soon. Stay put... no, don't go out, just stay inside."
He'd heard me but double-checked the kids visually before nodding and rattling off safety rules.
"Black Mane's on wagon duty for us?"
"Nah~ I'd love to, but you're lightweights. Our Alfonso's stronger, so he's hauling cargo carts. Bongkure's pulling your wagon, Short Mane Sets driving. No teasing, and listen to him, got it?"
I nodded vaguely, and Black Mane flashed a satisfied grin before leaving.
Gazing his way, I saw tribesfolk gathered afar. Deer Elder was climbing a rock to give a speech.
Focusing my ears, her voice rang clear. My reborn body had superior stamina, strength, senses—everything. Even among beastkin, who outclassed humans baseline, my specs stunned the adults. That's partly why I ended up bossing the kids around. A knuckle-rapping here and there tamed them quick.
Thinking back, how could they abandon a kid like me? Why'd I even worry?
Blame Bear Elder's vague speech patterns—they suck you in, logic evaporates mid-convo. You gotta experience it.
"Everyone gathered?!"
Deer Elder's crisp voice echoed.
"As you know, we're moving camp. Destination: beyond the plains. Long road ahead. Unlike before. Like ten years ago when we first entered the plains. Cargo and kids in the center. Sheep left flank. Cattle right. Sheep can punch forward in emergencies. Wolves herd sheep, horses cattle—as always. Hawks scout ahead, bears support. Rest on rear guard. Two breaks before sunset. No stragglers. Rest fully during stops. Night watch: pairs, 16 for 8 posts. Remember your shift. Other changes announced as needed. Report anomalies immediately. Dismissed."
Deer Elder's crisp speech ended. Wasn't she non-combat? Total soldier vibe.
"Questions? Ask anytime. Otherwise, Bear Elder takes over."
She stepped down; Bear Elder climbed up. His massive frame on the rock oozed intimidation from afar.
"Thanks to Deer Elder. She covered the essentials, so just a few reminders."
Bear Elder opened solemnly.
"...Y'see, winter's coming, weather turning cold. Everyone knows, but some might not, so revisiting: health first. Long journey ahead, far in miles and heart. Don't rush. 'Haste makes waste,' as they say—."
"...."
Seems the tribe's wise Bear Elder turns principal type for speeches.
When do we leave...? Today, hopefully.
......
Bear Elder's eternal exhortation mercifully ended via Deer Elder's kick. He slunk offstage sullenly. She clapped sharply; everyone scattered to final prep.
"Alright—depart!"
*Bwooo—*
The great horn blared ahead. Our wagon and the whole tribe lurched into motion.
"Whoa! We're off!"
Short moves before meant kids walked. Beastkin stamina handled it fine; kids had energy to burn, racing around. But this was leaving the plains—a real haul. Considering limits and threats, we rode.
"Wanna see ahead. Poke a hole?"
"No way! Short Mane'll scold ya."
"Wagon's bumpy, right?"
"Short Mane's driving sucks~."
New to wagons—even cargo ones—or just hyped on the adventure, the thrilled kids shrieked and chatted inside. Any jolt, they teased our driver, Short Mane Sets.
Young horse beastkin fresh from adulthood rites, he doted on his partner horse Bongkure. Among adults, he was the youngest, close in age to us, good-natured—prime teasing target.
"Hey, kids! Don't badmouth Bongkure!"
"Wasn't Bongkure, teasing youuu~."
The kids teased mercilessly. Short Mane'd suffer awhile.
"Hang in there, Short Mane. Lotsa stress comin'~."
"Ursa, help me. Please. Do somethin' about 'em. Can't drive!"
Amid the kids' gleeful cackles, our journey off the plains began.