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The heavy beating of the drums depleted as a man in a colorful and extravagant headdress stepped forth from the crowd that had formed a loose circle around a large fire. Remnants of the logs that fueled the flickering flames, were gradually being reduced to nothing but black ash as the elder raised his arms and immediately quieted the group. In his native tongue, he spoke about the approaching change of season and the need for travel across the plains once again; a trip the tribe had taken every year since the first of their ancestors had settled there. They would all be expected to participate in preparation for the lengthy trip.

In unison, his lips part once more but no sound is given time to come into existence as a woman stepped out from behind him. A tender smile crossed her mouth and with it, she tricked the crowd into seeing pass the falsity of its presence. The chief greeted the female with an intimate embrace that a father would his child. He then dismissed himself and the tribe continued in their festivities.

Calla is forced into idle conversations with her people about the weather and new gossips. The woman remained grinning throughout their talks but if one were to watch, they would see her gaze wander into the far off woods between people and sentences.

What weighed on her thoughts?

A small child stumbled through the woods, her eyes wide and her clothes covered in blood. She had just witnessed an innocent man be murdered trying to save her, mumbling something about a gift from god. Tears were brimming in her eyes, blurring her vision as she stumbled closer to a light in the distance. Her feet were torn from running and her legs were tired as well, not to mention every rustle in the darkness sounded like the man that killed her savior.

Calla tore her gaze from the festivities and glanced towards the treeline where a gap in between the trees allowed her to catch a glimpse of a silhouette that belonged to the young female. Silently, the woman snuck away from the crowd and met the girl before she could stumble out into the open. Calla started at the sight of scarlet splattered across the girl's attire.

"Are you alright?" she whispered; her softened question battling against the noise of the celebration taking place behind her.

The small girl had just barely heard the woman's question, shaking her head no. The girl didn't feel ok, she had just witnessed an innocent man die saying something about her being chosen by god. She followed the woman's eyes down to her blood covered dress, the flowers on it dirty and menacing.

The girl fell forward suddenly, appearing to be passed out from the events of the day. Afterall, she did witness a death and walked through the dark forest for hours barefoot.

Calla immediately resented herself for asking a stupid question. She was concerned for the girl, especially when the trauma from what events she had just witnessed caused her to faint. Before she could hit the ground and possibly worsened her condition with a physical injury, Calla caught her. In a predicament, Calla contemplated how to ensure the girl's safety. The issue was due to the wars her tribe was in and bringing in an outsider now would raise questions and arouse fear of a possible spy. She may be worse off there than by herself.

Calla could not, would not, leave the girl alone on this condition though, so she picked her up and snuck between the shacks in the darkness until she arrived at an empty one. She lit a candle in the corner after setting her on a blanket and pillow on the floor. Then, she retrieved a cloth and drenched it with water. Sitting on her knees, she began to wipe off the blood, hoping they would not be stumbled on.

After a while, the little girl came back to consciousness. She looked around in confusion, and quite possibly fear, at the small shack she was in. There was just barely enough light from the single candle to distinguish a female figure standing over her with a blood soaked rag in her hand. Propping herself upon her elbows, she looked at the figure in front of her, wondering where exactly she was.

Borron was quiet of breath, he had effortlessly snuck unto the Maizhito Tribe's camp and has now located the location of his target. He was still stunned by how simple it was to sneak in while the majority of the tribe was preparing for their migration, it was the perfect time to strike them a fatal blow, but orders were orders, he had to deal with the girl. He made sure there was nobody around to see him enter the tent, and once the coast was clear he burst in, shocking the two inhabitants. He didn't give them a chance to react as he unsheathed his blade and aimed right for the young child.

A familiar scent filled the room, it was as if it had happened all at once. Standing between the assassin and the young girl like he grew out of the earth to save her life once more was the innocent man from the woods. The blade of the killer dug into his flesh as it had only an hour earlier. The man stood, unaffected by the metal in his chest. A stalk of corn hung around his neck like an amulet, "I am Corn God," the being said, words flowing from his mouth like golden silk "now leave, or else ninja stuff"

Borron was stunned, he couldn't believe it, Corn God, the deity of the Maizhito Tribe. To think that it was he who fell to his blade a mere hour ago, but if he did so before, certainly he could again. Borron narrowed his gaze, and clenched the knife harder.
"So be it."

Te girl was extremely shocked to see the man who had saved her life not an hour ago, and now he had yet another knife in his chest. Jumping up despite her injuries, she backed to the corner of the tent looking around for a possible weapon to defend herself.

"I can not allow you to kill this child." the God of Corn spoke calm and strong, "She is the key to the Maizhito victory, get her to safety Calla." Corn God grabbed the assassins blade and with a glowing palm the blade withered as if it was a blade of grass in seasons of drought, a short breeze blew the destroyed knife into the wind. A wooden staff grew out of the floor into Corn God's other hand, he lifted it and swung it down hard towards the assassin!

Very quietly, like a cat, the girl edged her way around all the people who occupied the tent and out the door. Sticking to the shadows, she made it to the trees where she turned around to see if anybody had seen or followed her.

The assassin narrowly dodged the staff, rolling to the side and immediately stood back up in a fighting stance. He reached to his belt and un hooked a tomahawk, grasping it in his hand preparing to strike. His gaze never left the deity, he was fairly confident that his extensive combat training was more than enough to best the feeble god of an inferior tribe, and so he pushed off the ground and came at Corn God from above.

Corn God spun the staff above his head deflecting any damage meant to be done. He smiled, "Run Luna..." He whispered to himself. The staff became like leather, Corn God cracked it like a whip and it wrapped around the assassins neck. It was ungodly to kill, all he had to was stall for the girls escape, but if the killer pushed him to it he wouldn't hesitate to take him out of this world.

Despite being at the edge of the woods, the girl, Luna, had heard the Corn God loud and clear. Taking off at a sprint, she soon found herself in a clearing not far from the camp. Looking around quickly, Luna spotted a tree that she could crawl in and hide for the time being, just until she had the energy to continue on. Luna climbed into the tree trunk and sat down on the mossy ground, laying her head against the side of the trunk.

Borron struggled to breath as the whip constricted his throat. It took him a moment to react, but eventually brought his weapon up and cut the whip in half. Now free, he refocused on his target, but it was then that he realized that his target was no longer there. He looked around the hut briefly but there was no sign of her, she escaped.
"NO!" He exclaimed, he couldn't believe she got away from him again. He realized now that he had no time to deal with the god and threw his Tomahawk at Corn God's head.

Their was a small thud as the axe stuck deep into a single stalk of corn that stood where Corn God once had. Corn God stood directly behind Borron, with the other half of his leather strip he caught the assassins neck once more. "How much are you being payed for the life of this child's life?" Corn Gods words were warm despite the cold air of the situation.

Luna sat there for what seemed like an eternity to her, wondering if she should keep running. It would be hard to see and she might get hurt more, her conscious nagged at her. Eventually she gave in to the warm embrace of the tree, falling asleep where she sat in the trunk of the tree.

Borron struggled to get free, but it was useless, not only did the deity actually manage to sneak up on him, but his grip was indeed godlike, he was completely immobile. With no other choice, he replied.
"...There's no money involved, I'm merely performing a service to my tribe, no more no less." He choked out. "Personally I don't see how a single child could possibly make a difference, but orders are orders."

Corn God loosened his grip, "Then let me put a price on her head." The leather gave a bit, letting the killer breathe. The leather sharpened into the same dagger that had withered only moments before, "I'll trade you her life in exchange for yours, let her go and I will let you retreat." The god spoke true to the assassin, he was in a merciful mood, "Go home with your head tribes man, go see your people and your family." The knife then pushed harder against Borron's throat, "or die here, in this tent, your choice."