1 Introduction: I am Atila

I live on the outskirts of what I call a gathering - larger than a village, smaller than a town. We craft goods, trade for cloth and necessities, but mostly hunt. Hunting has not only brought meat and skins, it presented a show of skill and stance in the gathering. Communities have their own specialties and often support each other to build strength. However, occasionally there was a show of force. Some used their skills in the subtle destruction or twisting of lives. And not all that was hunted were animals.

I am Atila. I am a huntress and a loner. My home was built by my late father who wanted a more secluded life for his pregnant wife. He wanted a better life for his growing family than the competition spreading in the heart of the gathering. He was once a part of that, but no more. He won the heart of his bride and knew that to be the deepest and truest accomplishment he had ever achieved. My mother was his world now and soon I was to fill their hearts to overflowing.

But alas, I never knew my mother or the joy I would have brought her. She was a blooming garden cut short by early frost. Plainly put, she died two months after she birthed me. My father was so ready to open up his heart to his beautiful world. Instead that life dissipated. He became a loner after his loss. Therefore I became him.

As I grew, my father spent much time teaching me the skills of hunting and fighting in our solitude, for one must know both to survive. He also taught me silence, an even more prominent strength. None of his strengths could protect him, however, when he faced the gunshot which sent him to my mother. That was less than five summers ago. I did not feel much sadness but a slow burning fire. My determination to prevail in my shrunken world has remained. I will be stronger, even stronger than silence.