The Only Company is a Shadow

Furiosa sat in her blood soaked village. She looked at all the supplies. Her brother had left her his favorite knife as a gift when he left for his rite a few years earlier. She held it to her chest for a moment sitting against a wall of her family's hut. She was nervous, and scared. She had just buried her entire village and didn't want to leave them but she needed to. It was what had to be done.

Furiosa grabbed a leather pack and began to put what water they had in it. She would learn to find water but that would take time, she needed water for when her methods failed, as she perfected them. She would use all her knowledge to succeed.

She tossed a bit of food, mostly to eat when her hunts failed. Though she doubted she'd really need it. She was taught well by the village hunter. The old toskal had taught her primitive ways to hunt with no gear, and weaponary tactics too. This would be where she excelled. 

Furi looked down at the knife gifted by her brother. It was some ornamentally carved bone with leather wrapping. It was a beautiful weapon, yet deadly. It in no way lacked efficiency caused by its beauty. She hoped he'd find her or vice versa. They always made a good team.

The young toskal needed to move on; it was time for her to take up on her own. She was determined to make her parents memory proud. She finished gathering supplies, slinging the bag over her shoulder. It was time. With one final goodbye to their graves, Furiosa moved into the world, alone, but ready. She would make them proud.