The Chronicles of Amon book 1 LINK
Chapter 8.
The following morning he was up well before dawn, nervously pacing the perimeter of the nest, back and forth, back and forth. After the child was fed, they each ate a light breakfast of a few pieces of over-ripe fruit. He quickly gathered his stick and stone and anxiously prodded Ma-m-ma to get moving. The child clung tightly to his mother’s fur as she stood and began moving in the direction she was being pushed.
It was a bumpy ride for the child. He dared not loosen his grip on his mother’s fur. Though she held him tightly in her grasp, he still felt insecure. He was still afraid he would fall. It wasn’t a long drop to the ground, but he risked being stepped on before his mother could come to a complete stop.
They didn’t usually travel with such haste. Before today his father had frequently run ahead and disappeared into the undergrowth. These had been the times when his mother sat him gently on the ground and moved a few feet away, where she would stretch out on the ground for a few moments relaxation.
He enjoyed these times. They gave him a chance to explore the small world around him. The ground under him always seemed to hold new secrets. And of course, everything he touched had to pass the taste test. Some things were hard and cold. Other things weren’t so hard. Sometimes they broke when he squeezed them real hard between his teeth. Sometimes he found things that moved. They wiggled in his mouth. Sometimes they’d bite. But he could stop them by biting back. Then they’d stop moving, and they’d taste different.
But today was another story. His mother and father were staying together, moving very fast. He hadn’t had a chance to do anything but just hold on, watching the ground fly by below him.
By mid day they caught up with the new group. Pa was the first to see them. They had stopped at the edge of a small pond where a young toddler, who looked very much like his son was playfully splashing in the water. The mother was sitting within arms reach, grooming her mate. Another female, obviously very pregnant, was just emerging from a clump of bushes on the far side of the pond.
Ma-m-ma was startled when her mate stopped suddenly. He pulled her down beside him and looked intently into her eyes. She pulled the youngster close. He took the offered nipple eagerly and quietly settled.
Still holding eye contact with his mate, Pa slowly stood, pulling her up with him. Together they faced the two couples only a few paces away.
The youngster at the water’s edge was the first to notice them. With a squeal, he scrambled up into his mother’s arms. She and the others spun in the direction the young one was staring.
For a long moment no one moved. Pa tensed as the two males before him slowly began moving into defensive postures, stepping away from each other. The female pregnant stopped in her tracks, still several yards from the safety of her group, her eyes locked on the intruders. The female with the child edged her way closer to the males. The young one in her arms peered up over her shoulder as she retreated. Quietly at first, but then more loudly he spoke as he gestured toward the new couple.
“Ah-ah . . . buh-broc-uh, ah-ah.”
The nipple dropped from his lips when he heard the voice. This was new, something he’d never heard before. He twisted in his mother’s arms to see the others there by the water. No one was moving. All seemed to be frozen in place. All but one . . . the small squirming individual being held in it’s mother’s arms.
“Ah! Ah! Ah-mahn!” He shouted as he leaped from Ma-m-mah’s arms. She reached out frantically, but her fingers only grasped air. Her son was already out of reach.
She lunged forward. Before she could take a step, strong hands grasped her by the shoulders. She turned frantically, trying to escape. But when she saw the look on her mates face, her struggles ceased immediately.
His jaw was slack. His eyes were locked on the spectacle unfolding there before them.
“Ah-mahn! Ah-mahn!” his son kept calling as he closed the distance between the two groups. All the adults remained stationary, awed by what they were seeing.
The other youngster began frantically twisting, trying to escape from his mother’s arms.
“Broc! Broc! Broc!” He yelled as he struggled.
Pa’s son was running full speed toward the other youngster. When he got close enough, he leaped upward, trying to reach the young male. But the mother instantly intervened, brushing the charging youngster aside.
For just an instant her grip loosened as she fended off the charge. In that instant Broc managed to escape her grip and went tumbling onto the ground. He gathered himself quickly and practically flew toward the other youngster, squealing with excitement. The two youngsters collided, tumbling and rolling together, all the time babbling and squeeling to each other.
“Ah-ah-Broc-Ah-mahn . . . Broc-ah-mahn-ah!” Back and forth the primitive conversation went. Each of the youngsters was shouting with joy. Neither had ever seen another like himself. They were, after all, the first-born of this new generation.
The adults, on the other hand, stood in mute silence, each group warily watching the other. The largest of the two males moved slightly forward. He stopped a pace out and sat down on his haunches. Pa saw that he had a substantial stick in his hand. Pa still had his stone, and was ready to use it if necessary. Slowly he moved into a throwing stance.
The larger male saw the movement. But instead of becoming defensive, he made a show of letting his stick fall to the ground beside him.
Unsure of what to do next, Pa stepped forward. He held the stone out for all to see. Then, deliberately, he turned his hand down, letting the stone fall to the ground.
“Ah” he said quietly, watching for any sign of movement or recognition from the others.
“Ah!” The big male responded as he came to his feet and moved forward slowly.
The two males approached each other cautiously, poised and ready. Pa, because he was smaller, stopped first and submitted to the other’s scrutiny. The big male circled him twice, sniffing and snorting. When he was satisfied that there was no danger, he sat down in front of Pa, allowing himself to be scrutinized. Pa repeated what had just been done to him. Then,glancing back toward his mate, he once again sat down in front of the other.
Hesitantly the two groups moved toward each other. The youngsters continued playing at their feet. When the groups converged, they stopped playing. Each of the children patted the other on the head, then looked up at their parents as in turn they said: “Broc.” “Amon.”