This is our land

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about the close ties you grow to have with your hometown, or land.

Submitted: January 03, 2012

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Submitted: January 03, 2012



Our Land The moon rose above the blue mountains, engulfed in soft grey fog. Eagles soared high above my head, viewing the land they call home. A young deer and his mother trotted off into the trees. I stood my ground, not willing to give in- not ready to be defeated by the dark-eyed beings. This is my land, my ancestors land, my tribes land, and it stays that way.

Then, slowly, one by one, they came. Softly at first were their war cries, then louder, and louder, until the air was submurged completely with thier blood-curdling roars. I squeezed my eyes shut, and inhaled. The sweet smell of pine sap on the evening air was almost heavenly. I turned to my left, and saw my family behind me. Each with an overpowering sense of pride and confidence. If you shot arrows directly at their hearts, every single arrow would turn around and retreat, in fear of their dignity.

Now the others had assembled across the stream. Usually with fish jumping and frogs creaking, the stream was vibrant and full of life. Now, it seemed as though every animal in the forest was hiding, scared to breathe, and awaiting the outcome of the battle.

Battle is a stiff word. My people don't battle amongst themselves, nor do my people fight those who anger us. No, it is safe to say that my people have soft hearts and strong minds. We forgive in a milli second. However, we never, ever, ever, forget.

This is why we are gathered here today. Under any other circumstance, it would be with a heavy heart that we omit the first cry of battle. Today, however, is different. Our pride, our dignity, our confidence, our love for each other and our ancestors, cheered us on. Today we come to fight, but not to conquer. To scare, but not to kill. To prove, and not leave any doubt as to whether this is our land, because this is our land.

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