A week passed, and the age of the ceremony tradition came to an end after everyone born within the same year as Rion also finished their offerings.
At a cliff about two kilometres south of the Redwood Den.
Rion and the other trainees stood staring at the nine figures before them.
The nine figures were Marin, Haria, Zoka, Tarek and the remaining were squad leaders.
Zoka was muscular, like a lion, a group leader of commitment. He had dark red braided hair, sharp black eyes that were polished with experience of the wild, and his dark skinned, muscular body had been through more battles than his tribe had seasons.
Tarek was lean like a fox; his group wasn't of brawn but brains. He had long blonde hair with brown eyes that gleamed with craftiness, further enhancing the slight smirk that tugged his lips. His tanned body, unlike others, had no scars because to him the scars weren't a badge of honour; instead, they were marks of weakness.
