The mighty Tempon River originates from the Sierra Madre in the central plateau. It connects the Texcoco Lake system to the south, and twists and turns to the north. After passing through the city of Suiqiu of Hilotepec, it flows all the way down and flows into the land of the Vastec. Finally, this thousand-mile-long river will rush into the seashore, forming a series of large lakes northeast of Otter City and merging into the Caribbean Sea.

In the Nahua language, "tempon" means otter. At this moment, this otter habitat welcomed a red-haired uninvited guest.

"Whoosh!"

A bone arrow flew out, as fast as electricity, and shot at an otter that was building a burrow between the lakes. But in an instant, the otter let out a scream and died on the spot.

Then the young huntress strode forward with red-haired fluttering and vigorous physique. She confidently put the arch behind her back, stretched out her strong, slender fingers, pinched the otter's tail, and lifted it upside down to examine it. She just glanced at it and smiled with satisfaction.

"Oh my God!"

Another young hunter, carrying a spear and holding a light hunting bow, also came from behind. He glanced at the hunting otter and exclaimed.

"Ah! You shot the otter in the eye again! It's smaller than a kidney bean, and it moves!"

"."

The vigorous huntress turned her head and glanced sideways at the young hunter without speaking. Then, she looked around and saw no trace of large beasts in the dense water network of the lake. The huntress pulled out a delicate obsidian dagger, squatted by the small lake, and skillfully disemboweled the otter and stripped its fur.

Another young hunter put away his bow, took out his spear, and watched from side to side. As he looked south, he chatted with the huntress.

"Ah? Why are you still using this old dagger! It's been so many years, and the blade has been changed many times."

The young hunter pursed his lips, stepped forward carefully, and asked with a shy face.

"Alan, that, where is the dagger I gave you before? Take it out and use it."

".Um?"

The huntress Alan raised her head, her eyes were like blades, and she gave the young hunter a cold look. Seeing this murderous look, the young hunter shrank his neck, whispered softly, and shouted.

"Miss Alan"

"Um."

Alan was expressionless, lowered his head again, and handled the fur patiently. Her technique was very skillful, but within a quarter of an hour, she separated the otter's skin and flesh, and the fur was also preliminarily cleaned. After that, the tanning process must be returned to the tribe, softened with smoke, rubbed with plant ash and stove soil, and beaten with slate and wooden sticks.

"Take it!"

Alan stood up, as slender as a deer and as vigorous as a fox. She put a few pounds of otter meat in her hand heavily into the young hunter's hand, and ordered in the tone of her sister.

"Go back to make soup and replenish your body. Chipava, you have to train yourself every day! You have to be more powerful, faster, and more aggressive to survive battle after battle!"

".Uh. Good!"

Chipawa held the otter meat for a while, and put it in the bamboo basket behind him. Otter meat is sweet and warm in nature. Like venison, it can improve the weak and nourish the kidneys and qi.

However, in Chipava's view, he doesn't feel that he needs to make up. A few years have passed, and he is no longer a fledgling bird who has just gone through war, but a warrior who has experienced fighting! The spear in his hand has already killed no less than ten enemies, and the skill of melee combat has long been as pure as breathing. Only, his hunting skills.

"Sister Alan, you promised to continue teaching me archery! You are the best hunter in the tribe, and the apprentice you teach must be half your level!"

Chipava shyly stepped forward again. He opened his eyes wide, looking at Sister Alan's bright and sharp eyes and her sharp-edged face, not feeling a little lost.

"In the past few years, Sister Alan has become colder and more beautiful. She is full of energy and full of energy. She is like a falcon in the wasteland. Ah, such a direct look in the heart is very indifferent to everyone, except for for me."

"Boom!"

Alan stretched out his hand, flexed his index and middle fingers, and put a "chestnut" on Chipava's head. Then, she frowned and tugged at her red-dyed hair, feeling a little embarrassed for a while.

"Chipava, I don't know how to teach you. Archery. Just see, aim, shoot. But, first step see. I can see, you can't."

"Ah! Sister Alan, except you, who can see the beetles on the tree from three hundred steps away? Are you lying to me?"

"I did not lie to you."

"You have!"

Chipava was angrily, covering his head, and retorted loudly. Then, he rolled his eyes and said with a smile.

"Otherwise, you stand behind me and teach me hand-in-hand! Teach me a few more times, and teach me a few more days, and it will come naturally!"

"."

Alan stood up and glanced blankly at Chipava. Suddenly, her pointed ears moved, she took off the big bow behind her, and held three more arrows in her hands.

"Sister Alan?"

"Shh! Someone. Probably Vastek's scout."

Hearing this, the smile on Chipava's face suddenly disappeared. With a sharp expression, he clenched the spear in his hand, and fell to the ground, ready to fight at any time.

"This way!"

After a few breaths, Alan's expression turned cold. She drew her hunting bow and aimed at the bushes where the sound came from, her eyes sharp like a falcon before hunting. Then, a figure with a bowed waist appeared in front of her eyes and was quickly locked by her. And the moment she released her right hand, her eyes suddenly changed, and her left hand rose sharply.

"Whoosh!"

A swift bone arrow drew a slightly higher arc, stuck to the top of the figure, and shot into a big tree in the jungle. The figure was stunned, his hair was ruffled by the wind of arrows, his feet were soft, and he fell to the ground in fright. She raised her head in horror, revealing a thin face, but it was a twelve or thirteen-year-old Vastek girl~lightnovelpub.net~ Alan carrying a hunting bow and a chipava with a spear, walked over to the girl in front of. She looked at the naked upper body of the girl, which was the custom of the Vastek tribe. She looked at the shell necklace and small straw bag on the girl again, which should be the daughter of a middle-level warrior of the tribe. After observing for a moment, Alan asked in a deep voice in skilled Vastek language.

"Where are you from? Are you alone?"

"I am. Alone."

The girl raised her head and glanced at Alan's eye-catching red hair, her eyes were filled with inseparable fear. She knew that this was the most ferocious and powerful hunter among the fierce tribes from the north to the south. She shivered, struggling to organize the language, and replied.

"My tribe, in the southwest. Warriors with tiger skins, warriors with spears, warriors with axes, many warriors, shouted and killed them. Daddy died in battle. I escaped for two days, please, don't kill me!"

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