A vast number of tents, made of a cheap, flimsy wooden mesh fence wrapped in the skins and furs of sheep, each one could house perhaps twenty to thirty people if one pushed in and became cramped, but it was rarely more than seven living in these, spread out among the various families of the tribe.
Families of the tribe were built around the oldest male or the priest of that family, and the families would remain close, with brothers amassing their children into small communities within the tribe. They would then huddle their tents close together. Generally, they would then have a shared tent, empty of people but filled with their stuff and leftover foods. This was also where they kept their bows and spears.
A few of the wealthier families had gotten swords. It wasn't something they could make themselves, having no forges, but the bronze blades were generally kept to the waists of the young upcoming sons who wanted to, and whose fathers were wealthy enough to afford them the ability to seek to distinguish themselves from the rest of the tribe. Something all young men of the tribe longed for.
In each family’s cluster, there are two extra beds always kept open. These are for the elven siblings, who have taken to hopping from family to family on whims, often together in their pair but not always. The elders have their own tent, this one no one sleeps in, but it's where they discuss business.
Three young men and a now heavily pregnant woman are the four exceptions to the saggy-skinned older men, who are aged 40–60s, but lean towards 45 as the average.
"We will need to migrate back down towards the river soon to begin the farming season, at that time—" Before a senior-looking elder could finish, the woman broke in with her own stream of consciousness. "On that note, we must prepare beforehand for the necessary gifts to give to the dragon upon our return, which is why we should send these three by horseback early to travel along the edge of the fairy lands to meet up and trade our furs for that ivory."
There was a rustling. Her cutting off the older man clearly didn't sit well with the rest of the group. Watching her closely with some resentment, the elder continued, "As I was saying, soon we will need to migrate back down towards the river. At that time, some of the warriors will go out to graze the herd, take a few horses and good bowmen, and seek the settled them."
"Why wait, or split the warriors? The three of us can easily get the task done, and the Priestess is right. We need ivory to honor the dragon; we need it before we arrive to honor the dragon properly." This time it was one of the younger men who spoke up. "Besides, grandfather, the three of us won't assist much in the migration anyway. Better use of our hands and time if we leave early."
Of the three young men, the one on the left stood easily the tallest, being a head and shoulders taller than the tribe's average. He wore robes of fur, but most notably wolf and dog fur. He had a bow slung over his shoulders and stood indifferent to the room before him, merely showing a stoic nod of approval whenever he would lock eyes with an elder, something he seemed to do by reflex when he sensed their attention on him. There was a rough patch of the wolf fur, where his arrow had pierced, the result being that despite the extremely high quality of the fur, the tribe feared it would be hard to sell, so he took the fur he hunted for himself.
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The second young man, standing in the middle, was more lanky than the other two, with a bronze sword strapped to his hip and a lion's mane fashioned around his body. It was something he hadn't hunted for himself, instead being something he stole in a raid. He had longer hair than the rest and a glowing blonde beard. He wore a wooden armband, with symbols and images the elven sister had carved for him in exchange for gifts brought back. Despite once striving to impress her with his arrows at a younger age, he no longer carried a bow but held his bronze sword, always with one hand gripping the handle. It was a trade he made when he saw the bow wasn't working towards his obvious aim.
The third brother, slank half a step behind the other two. He looked at the pregnant priestess when she spoke but otherwise paid little attention to the meeting. He was dressed in the standard clothes of the tribe, a tunic with long sleeves under a fur-lined coat. Unlike the other two, his was made from wool from the sheep and goats they herded. However, he had a metal and fur cap that was too good for the tribe to have made and was slightly too large for his head, something he got around by tying it down with a leather strap. However, he carried both a bow and a bronze sword.
Despite this, if one was to go back and search their tents, they would find that the eldest — the one on the left, the middle brother — the one in the center, and the youngest — the one on the right, were materially inverted from the tribe's average. The eldest owned nothing he wasn't carrying, the middle wore all his wealth on his body, and the youngest put his wealth in metal armor that was too heavy and cumbersome for anything but battle.
After speaking his mind, the second brother rolled his palm over the hilt of his bronze sword, something that would have been seen as a threat if everyone here didn't know it was something he did habitually. That was a detail that the atmosphere would leave one denying, as it seemed as if four messengers from a hostile tribe were speaking to the gathering. It was, in truth, a gathering where everyone knew each other by name, habit, likes, and dislikes.
The old men all had an embarrassing story about the three boys they could bring up if need be, an advantage of age was that they knew enough to keep the stories about themselves among themselves.
And yet, there was a divide, an issue. Something that prevented this group from a harmonious talk and discussion.
"The dragon has never cared when we gave him honors before! Why this year?" A voice cut through, sitting far in the back of the tent. It was a man who was easily a generation older than the rest of the tribe. "The gods demand their rituals be done by the seasons; if there is anyone we should honor, it should be them first." The older man was dressed as the eldest son was dressed and looked to that same figure to speak some sense into his middle brother, who, despite showing his approval of the statement with his face, remained silent on the matter.
