The west-slanting sunlight fell through the cracks in the hut and fell silently among the crowd. There were the leaders of the two teams, the father and son who had just recognized each other and cried in each other's arms.
The canine-born warriors had dull expressions on their faces, looking at the young leader with runny noses, tears, and "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgqtt oftts of" expression of snarl faces. Even the original canine captain in the village came over to watch this rare family recognition.
The crew members of the fleet slumped on the ground, happy for the old captain and themselves. Priest Mecat raised the corners of his mouth, thought quietly for a while, and then his smile became even brighter. In the corner, Dark Snake and Didi looked at the scene in front of them, their faces full of excitement and joy, but also some unspeakable sadness and sadness.
"Dad! It's been seven years! Even if I fucked you to death, I never thought I'd see you again!"
The tattooed Chippawa cried, laughed, and shouted excitedly.
"You're not dead! You're not dead! Ah! Do you know? I built a grave for you and dug it on the mountain beside the Warrior Lake. I also dug a grave for my mother and sister... Over the years, I have thought about it day and night. I think, even in my dreams, I am avenging you!"
".I...I didn't expect it either!...I always thought that you were dead...and were eaten by wild dogs on the battlefield, and you couldn't even find your body!..."
The old militiaman burst into tears, spoke incoherently, and behaved even worse than the Chippawa. He was dizzy, as if he was drunk, and he seemed to be floating in the sky. At this moment, he hugged Chipawa's face tightly and pressed his son's forehead hard, fearing that if he let go, the other person would turn into smoke and suddenly float away.
"Hot! Alive!...You're still alive! Alive!...Alive, wow!"
"Ah! We are all alive! Ouch!"
At this point, Chippawa roared, howling like a canine. Then, he waved his hand and shouted to his soldiers.
"Why are you still standing there? Prepare wine and meat for me! I found my father! Slaughter all the turkeys in the village. Give me wine and meat tonight, and toast to my father!..."
"Yes! Boss!"
Several dog-born warriors were stunned for a moment, then agreed with a bang. Soon, the small village by the river became busy, and there were shouts of killing chickens for cooking. The elders in the village looked bitter as they watched hundreds of fierce canine warriors rampaging through the village. He saw the dazed eyes of the old militiaman and wanted to say something, but was glared at Chippawa fiercely and lowered his head in fear.
At dusk, bonfires were lit by the river. The old militiamen were still dizzy, and everyone in the fleet was also dizzy. The dog-born warriors ate meat and drank wine from large bowls, celebrating in a rare occasion. Then, they came forward one by one to toast, singing and dancing, until the old militiamen were drunk.
"Okay! Good!...Everything is good!"
There was not much wine in the village, and after a few rounds, it was all drunk. The bonfire reflected the red faces of everyone, and they listened to the sound of everyone singing and laughing. During the day, it was still life and death, and I wanted to cut it into several pieces. In the evening, we became a real family, singing and dancing together. The unpredictable changes of fate are really dizzying and confusing.
"Everyone, get down! Have fun by yourself! I want to talk to Dad!"
After eating and drinking, the tattooed Chippawa waved his arms again and drove away the canine warriors sitting around. Priest Mecat also knew what was going on and took everyone in the fleet back to the hut. Only then did the father and son really have a chance to be alone for a while.
Chihuaco, an old militiaman, squatted by the river and washed his face vigorously with the cold river water. The tattooed Chippawa also squatted next to him and washed together for a while, just like they did when they were children. Then, the father and son sat in front of the bonfire, looking at each other face to face, but for a moment they didn't know what to say.
"Chipawa... how did you... become like this dog-born?"
After a while, the veteran militiaman Chihuaco reached out his hand, touched the horrific tattoos on his son's face, and asked in a low voice.
"This was... carved with a stone knife? Can't it be washed off?"
"Yes! It's carved in stone! It can't be washed off!"
Upon hearing his father's question, Chipawa puffed out his chest and proudly pointed to his face, as if pointing to a great honor.
"This was carved for me three years ago when I was twenty years old...Sister Alan personally carved it for me! The tribe's high priest Zuma said that this is the tattoo of the wasteland and a totem of divinity! It can give me the courage of a wasteland warrior. , bestowed upon me the blessings of my ancestors!… It was with it that I became a truly fearless warrior step by step!…”
"Ah?...The warrior totem in the wasteland?..."
Hearing this, the old militiaman Chihuaco opened his mouth and wanted to say something. But when he saw his son's proud and confident look, he was silent for a moment and just murmured.
"Three years ago...you were twenty years old...you...you are already twenty-three! In my impression, you were only fifteen or sixteen years old, and you were still that short, thin, and timid boy..."
"Dad! I am a warrior! I am also a real man! I am no longer the boy I used to be! It has been seven years since I was captured by the warriors, left the village, and went to the battlefield!"
Upon hearing what the old militiaman said, Chippawa raised his eyebrows and interrupted. Sixteenth year of joining the army... He has gone through so many changes and wandered all the way to the wilderness. In the blink of an eye, it has been seven years.
"Seven years! I have killed dozens of soldiers! I have also slept with dozens of women, more than you have ever slept with! I dare to charge ten people alone! I will never do what I did before. So timid!…”
"Ah?...But, I remember, when we were in the Lake District...you..."
"Dad! This is a wasteland! It's a wasteland where people kill, eat, and sleep with women! There are fierce wasteland tribes everywhere here. I can only make them fear me and listen to me by being more ruthless and fierce than them!"
The tattooed Chippawa gritted his teeth and shouted like a wild wolf. Then, his expression softened slightly and his voice became deeper.
"What's more... Sister Alan is so powerful and brave, she has never been afraid!... How could I leave her behind so much?..."
"Hey!...The little turtle grew up and hatched into a crocodile..."
Hearing this, the old militiaman Chihuaco pursed his lips, looked at his familiar yet unfamiliar son, and sighed softly. yes! Seven years! In this unprecedented era set off by the Mexica conquest, there was so much blood, fire, change and death. So many high-ranking gods, priests and nobles fell into the dust and turned into rotting bones...
And after experiencing so much, as long as people don't die, they can grow up quickly. If he is like this, why shouldn't his son be like this? This is an era of heroes and legends, just like in mythology...
The old militiaman was silent and held his son's arm tightly. There was sincere joy and a touch of sadness in his heart. Because, he knew that his son had his own path, which was different from his, and they could not be together.
The evening breeze blows hard, bringing the breath of the sea and relaxing your mood. The tattooed Chipawa calmed down a little, then raised his head again and looked at his father. He rubbed his face vigorously, the lines that brought courage, and then asked carefully and softly.
"Dad!...Are my mother and sister...still...alive?"
(End of chapter)
