Ape of the Wilds

The jungle whispered secrets as Kuro moved, his body weaving effortlessly through the dense foliage. The Maw'Tanu village lay to the east, hidden deep within the towering trees of Aru'Mata, protected by natural barriers of rivers, cliffs, and ancient ruins. It was a place he had once called home.

Now, he wasn't sure if he still belonged there.

But the Tzalik warband was gathering. If they succeeded in their attack, the Maw'Tanu elders—and the entire village—would be wiped out.

Kuro gritted his teeth, picking up his pace. He didn't care about the elders. They had shunned him, treating him like an outcast for questioning their ways.

But the Maw'Tanu were still his people.

And if the Tzalik thought they could take the jungle for themselves, they were wrong.

Hours passed as Kuro ran, his body moving like a shadow through the trees. The first signs of the Maw'Tanu village came into view—the towering wooden walls, the thick vines wrapped around the treetop structures, and the glow of torches in the night.

He slowed as he approached the outer perimeter, his ears twitching at the sound of guards speaking in hushed voices.

Kuro sighed. He could sneak in, but that would only make things worse.

Instead, he stepped into the open.

Within seconds, two warriors dropped from the trees, spears pointed at his chest.

"Halt!" one barked. "Who goes—"

The second warrior's eyes widened.

"Wait… it's Kuro!"

The first warrior's grip on his spear tightened. "Kuro? The outcast?"

Kuro folded his arms, unimpressed. "I need to speak with the elders. Now."

The warriors exchanged glances.

One of them hesitated, then scowled. "Why should we listen to you?"

Kuro stepped forward, his voice low and deadly.

"Because if you don't, your village will be burning by sunrise."

The warriors led him through the village, their distrust palpable.

Maw'Tanu of all ages stopped to stare as he passed. Some whispered among themselves. Others simply glared.

He ignored them.

They didn't matter.

Only one thing did.

At the heart of the village stood a great wooden hall, carved from the ancient trees of Aru'Mata. This was the Council Hall, where the elders made their decisions.

Kuro was shoved inside, the heavy doors closing behind him.

Five aged Maw'Tanu, their fur streaked with gray, sat in a circle around a small fire. Their eyes, sharp and knowing, watched him in silence.

Elder Mar'Zun, the oldest and wisest of the council, finally spoke.

"You have returned, Kuro." His voice was calm, but firm. "Why?"

Kuro wasted no time.

"The Tzalik warband is gathering in the ruins beyond the river. They plan to attack the village."

Silence.

Then, Elder Hak'Tor, a scarred warrior, scoffed.

"The Tzalik have raided before," he said. "We have always driven them back."

"This is different," Kuro growled. "They have united under a new leader. Their numbers are growing, and they are planning war. If you don't act now, the Maw'Tanu will be wiped out."

Elder Mar'Zun's eyes narrowed. "And why should we believe you?"

Kuro felt his blood boil.

He stepped forward, towering over the council, his voice a growl.

"Because I killed their chieftain."

A ripple of shock ran through the room. The elders exchanged uneasy glances.

"You… what?" Hak'Tor whispered.

Kuro bared his fangs.

"I found them in the jungle," he said. "I watched them. Hunted them. Killed them. Their leader is dead, but their forces are still growing. If you don't act, they will strike. And they will win."

The room fell silent.

Then, Elder Sa'Ruk, the most cautious of the council, leaned forward.

"If what you say is true," he said carefully, "then what do you propose?"

Kuro's mind worked quickly. He had expected resistance, but now that the elders were listening, he had to make them act.

"The Tzalik are expecting an easy victory," he said. "We turn that against them."

He took a breath, laying out his plan.

• The Tzalik warband would be moving through the jungle at night, expecting to catch the village off-guard.

• Instead of waiting for the attack, the Maw'Tanu warriors would strike first—in the jungle, where they had the advantage.

• Kuro would lead a small force to ambush the warband, using the trees and shadows to pick them apart.

• Meanwhile, the village defenders would prepare traps and fortifications, ready to crush any Tzalik that made it through.

Elder Mar'Zun listened carefully, nodding slowly.

"You would lead this strike force?" he asked.

Kuro met his gaze.

"Yes."

Another pause. Then, to his surprise, Hak'Tor let out a low chuckle.

"You've changed, boy."

Kuro didn't respond. He didn't need to.

Elder Mar'Zun stood, tapping his staff against the ground.

"The council will decide. Leave us."

Kuro's fists clenched. He had given them everything.

Now, he had to wait.

Hours passed.

Kuro sat at the edge of the village, watching the jungle, waiting for movement. His body was restless.

Then—footsteps.

He turned as a group of warriors approached.

At their head was Hak'Tor.

He nodded.

"The council agrees. We will fight."

Kuro let out a slow breath.

Finally.

The next few hours were a blur of activity.

Warriors armed themselves, sharpening their weapons. Traps were set along the jungle paths. The defensive walls were reinforced.

Kuro moved through the warriors, choosing his strike force.

He needed fighters who could move fast and strike hard.

By nightfall, he had his team.

Five warriors. Fast, strong, and deadly.

The Tzalik had no idea what was coming.

The moon hung high as Kuro and his warriors moved through the jungle.

The Tzalik warband was marching, unaware they were being watched.

Kuro's claws tightened.

He had started this war.

Now, he would finish it.

The first strike was his.