I was on watch, for my tribe- the Moon Tribe. I sat outside of the campfire, beyond the shelter of our cave, with my flint spear close to my hand. As Wotan, in my 25th year, I was the pride of my tribe- this is not an empty boast, I was strongest by far, and always called upon for guard duty, and any other thing that was dangerous. As I looked out over the cool night, I watched for any signs of the invaders. Many there had been, more and more. Gonga, our medicine woman and the leader of our tribe, had told me that in the past, there were only the Moon People. Other tribes there were as well, but they were as we are- fair of skin, and bright of eye! But the dark invaders had come, and kept coming. They were tall, and swift in running, swifter than the folk of the Moon! My friend, G’nosh, he said that they were swift of foot, but they were weak, weaker than a woman of the Moon. I only knew they were endless; they came from the south, into our wonderfully cool land, and th