The pain was immense, but if you didn't go through this ritual you would most certainly be declined by the tribe and killed. If you were lucky left in the wild, where you would probably probably die of the cold, thirst or hunger. The echoing of the drums ringed inside your head and the roaring of the crowd made your ears ache. Almost. Almost there. Done! You quickly snatched of the mittens, looked at the chief, bowed then- when out of sight- sprinted towards the falls to wash up. Shortly you were joined by Omari, "You did well," there was a long pause, "I-I am proud," He finally added.
"So where have you come from?" You asked him, "Did you wash up like me?"
"I don't like to talk about it."
"Why not you can talk to me," you explained.
"I just don't, alright!" He retorted. You could suddenly hear the screams and cries of the tribe. You both looked at each other, then set off at a full speed sprint towards the village. It was to Omari's horror that an enemy tribe had come to their village and started to attack. "No" Omari said under his breath. Fire soon spread and people lay on the floor, motionless.