Featuring Lohané,

and most of the herd!

A full four seasons had passed since his predecessor, Babatunde, had named him Warchief and still no Chieftain had stepped forward to lead the people.  Lohané was furious - half with his people, half with the gods.  He, like the rest of his herd, believed in the gods but was not as devout as he probably should be.  He missed prayers often and sometimes forgot to thank them for the food he was eating but he only felt half-sorry for his lack of attentiveness.

If the gods truly hated him for forgetting every now and then while the weight of juggling the job of two chieftains plus being a father anew, well…

He had more than a few choice words for them.

The blue and cream stallion had spoken to Ataahua time and time again about it, nagging her to foresee something that would indicate whoever it was the gods had deemed to take Eketaahua’s place.  Even though Eke’s rule had been short and somewhat questionable, any chieftain was better than being without.  The emergence of this spring, after winter’s chill, marked the second year that they had been without the third leader of the Hihiri.  Without a chieftain, the triforce of power was incomplete - The Holy One, the symbol of Chlos and his eternally watching eyes; The Warchief, the protector of Seysh’s seas; The Chieftain, the leader of Et’s people.  

Lohané had spread the word first among his trusted warriors.  A meeting was to held on the first sunrise of spring at the Gathering Waters, that they might discuss the plight that their herd faced.  Warriors had brought the news home to their mates and children, who had spread it onward and outward across the island by word of mouth until news of the meeting had infiltrated every corner of the islands.

Those who didn’t show were, to be frank, lazy cowards.  At least in Lo’s point of view.

Standing before at the head of the Gathering Waters, the Warchief nodded as the members of the herd began to gather.  Some looked sleepy at having been awakened so early; others looked intrigued; still others seemed worried - or even a bit angry.  Rare was the day that a meeting was held without a Chieftain to make sure their interests were looked after.  Some worried that, with a Warchief and an aging Holy One at the helm, their herd’s standards were falling.

When most of the herd had gathered, Lo nodded to them to indicate their personal conversations were to be silenced.

“Friends, it pleases me greatly that so many of you have joined us on this day,” he began, suddenly feeling nervous as all of the herd’s eyes fell upon him.  Swallowing the fear, the stallion cleared his throat and continued.  “This day’s sunrise marks the first herd-wide gathering at these precious waters without a Chieftain to represent the herd and these lands.  On this day, only the heavens and the sea are here to speak.”

“But do not fear,” he quickly inserted as the whispers began to spread like wildfire through the crowd, “Neither I nor your Holy One seek to tip the balance in our favor.  In fact, this meeting was meant for quite the opposite.”

“Too long have I carried the weight of both Et’s land and Seysh’s oceans upon my back.  I am confident in my abilities to lead us all but I am, regretfully, still painfully new in my position.  A year seasoned as a Warchief does not make me qualified to lead our people and protect our waters successfully.  We, my friends, need a Chieftain.”

“And so I come to the purpose of this gathering.  Believe me when I say that to say what I am about to say brings me great anxiety but these thoughts have not ended my life.  The gods have not disapproved of them,” Lo inhaled deeply, calming himself before he managed to spit the words that he did not want to say out into the world, “It is my belief that, for the first time in our people’s history, we should entertain the option of allowing anyone who thinks they are worthy of Chieftain step forward now, whether they be stallion… or mare.”