Who: Ororo & Scott What: Two allies brought together by loss Where: The Savage Land When: The Past (8 years ago)
The Fall People were one of the more prominent tribes in the Savage Land. They had thrived for centuries on the improbable stretch of prehistoric jungle, swampland, and plains nestled in Antarctica. Alien machinery kept the tropical land from raising the temperature of the rest of the continent, and the rest of the continent from freezing the tropical land. The land was home to many varieties of prehistoric species that had challenged the modern world's perceptions of what constituted "prehistoric" and "extinct".
The Fall People gave no thought to any of this; this was their land, and they lived off of it. They didn't even consider it particularly savage. Their home was what it was, and when it was threatened, their protector Ka-Zar (and once in a while, the X-Men) would defend it.
Scott Summers wished he could share their peaceful acceptance of life. They hunted and gathered and made homes and families in ways that reminded him strongly of Native American tribes. They also reminded him of what little Storm had described of the Kenyan tribe that had adopted her as a goddess. As far as Scott was concerned, serenity was something that happened to other people; he'd certainly never experienced it.
Occasionally, their serenity clashed with his default state of discontent. Today was an excellent example: Chief Tongah and the rest of the Fall People had heard and understood that he was still in mourning after losing Jean Grey, the love of his life, in the recent destruction of Magneto's volcanic base. They understood that he'd also lost Hank McCoy, one of his closest friends. The understood that he needed space to grieve and mourn. And apparently, their way of giving him that space was waiting a week longer than customary to offer him one of the fertile, of-age women in the tribe.
That was their custom. Braves and heroes were sacred to them, and they wanted to maintain that strength in their tribe for generations to come, so practically every girl past the age of fourteen who wasn't already spoken for ended up outside the X-Men's tents, requesting entry. There was a large group of broad-shouldered young men willing to battle each other for the honor of sleeping with Storm.
Some of the X-Men had partaken in this ritual. Colossus, innocent farmboy that he was, managed to bed two of them in the same night. Others had politely declined. But for the Fall People, this was a celebration of life, and the survival of their people. And because Scott himself led the X-Men, Chief Tongah kept bringing up his daughters to an increasingly-infuriating degree.
Tonight, one of his daughters, Tyaka, was already in his tent when he entered it after a long day of helping the tribe's hunters bring home a mid-sized triceratops. He really wasn't in the mood for it, so he made it clear he wanted her to get out. Judging by her stung reaction, he'd shouted more harshly than he'd intended. Feeling guilty about it, he let her stay, which led to an awkward attempt at lovemaking that had all the passion of two pieces of dry cardboard sliding against each other.
From what he could tell, she wasn't interested in having sex with him, either. Her father's expectations weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't refuse; he could certainly relate. So instead they cuddled in his tent. He found the companionship kind of nice, even as it reminded him sharply of what it was like to share Jean's bed.
And then she asked him about Jean.
His eyes burning for reasons that only slightly involved his mutant power, he tried talking about her. What started out as a brief summary turned rather detailed, because he saw absolutely no judgment in her eyes. The language barrier seemed to take the edge off as well.
"It's ... strange," he told her at one point. "I'm in a mourning period. I'm mourning for Hank, who's one of the best friends I've ever had. Okay, one of the few friends. But every time I think of Jean, I just ... feel nothing. Like nothing's there. It's like I read about someone's death in a newspaper or a history book. Am I still in shock? Is it ... I don't know, just too big to process? Or ... is there something wrong with me?"
He already knew the answer to that: he was already damaged goods.
"I'm sorry, Tyaka; I can't do this." He got up and grabbed his shorts, exiting the dinosaur-hide tent. He made some vague gesture that she could stay and sleep there if she wanted to, but he had no idea if she understood it.
Unfortunately, waiting outside his tent was a familiar white-haired, dark-skinned woman who had taken to wearing the local garb. It was Storm.
- - -
The Savage Lands were a strange place for Ororo. The land was exotic and it held many dangers that she had yet to understand, but it vaguely reminded her of home. Not New York, nor the Mansion itself, but of her time in the Savannah. It was wild and free, filled with a life that outsiders could rarely grasp. It was a pleasant reprieve.
But it came at a great price. There had been no time to react, only watch and listen as the unthinkable happened. Storm grieved deeply, but quietly for the loss of her friends. It was Scott's time to cope with the loss of his friends, of his lover. Both could not be allowed to be swept in a flurry of emotion. The Fall People were safe territory, but security could be stripped away.
It was clear that the others were dealing with the loss of comrades in their own, unique way. The Fall People's offer of companionship was a tempting one and she held no judgement for those to partake in the warmth. Ororo was not so easily swayed by firm and able bodies of the men, though she use kind words and gentle gestures to dissuade their longing. She could not allow herself to be distract, no matter how pleasurable it would be.
A walk to clear her mind was what drew her towards Scott's tent, but it was his words that had her linger. The man had not sought comforting words from those he called friends, yet he spoke his heart to a woman who could not understand him. His pain was great and she would have to share in it. It was the only way.
Ororo stood tall just outside of his tent and did not shy away as he emerged. "Scott, walk with me." She turned and began her stride away from the village, knowing that he would follow. They walked in silence until they were far from prying ears and eager bodies, deep into the heart of the vibrant greens of the foreign land. "There is nothing wrong with you," she began, turning to face him. "You are feeling all that you can feel in this moment. That does not make you inuman, it does not make you weak. It makes you mortal. Why would you ever think anything less?"
- - -
Scott barely managed a simple greeting before Ororo told him to walk with her. It seemed very important, so Scott fell in step beside her. "Is something wrong?" he asked, looking around for any signs of trouble.
Then she quickly made it clear she was talking about his feelings. "So, you overheard what I said to Tyaka." It wasn't an answer to her question. He honestly wasn't sure what kind of answer he could give.
Finally, with a sigh he gave in and replied, "it makes me damaged. I went through a lot before I joined the X-Men. A lot of things that cause me to second-guess every emotion I have."
- - -
"We all struggled, suffered, and survived before we found one another. You need not be ashamed of it. It is what makes you who you are. It is what made the love between you and Jean, the friendship between Hank, the kinship we all share." Ororo reached out, resting her hand against his arm gently. It was a small sign of comfort coupled with difficult words. "With every mission there is a risk, no matter the familiarity. Though we may not discuss it, each of us know that every moment could be our last, yet we fight on. It is what we do. It was what we have to do.
"The fight can make you numb. You feel what you can and you take those moments as a blessing, Scott. With time you will mourn for what has been lost, but you can not expect to feel the weight of this tragedy all at once. It would consume you. You are too strong to be lost." She drew her hand from his shoulder and turned her back to him. "Would you like to fly? You have not seen this place the way that I have. There is peace above it all. Perhaps the calm will nurture you."
- - -
Scott stared off to the distance as he absorbed Ororo’s wisdom. She made it all sound so logical. So rational. It was the kind of wisdom he could tell himself all day and never believe it. It had to come from people he trusted, like Professor Xavier. Or Hank.
Or Jean.
Still nothing. Still an emotional void.
He felt Ororo’s comforting hand leave his shoulder, and looked to her. She was inviting him to fly. Such an invitation took him aback. “I usually do my flying in the Blackbird,” he admitted, but it was only partially true. When she was alive, Jean occasionally took him flying telekinetically, just the two of them.
He looked at Ororo, watched the wind whip and rustle her hair and clothing. He gazed at her back, seeing a powerful woman who carried herself very differently than Jean had. He supposed this would be a completely different experience to flying with Jean, so this wouldn’t betray her memory.
“All right. Yes. I’d like to.” Scott reached for her hand. “I think I could use all the peace I can get.”
- - -
Ororo knew that her words had not been fully absorbed. Scott was too kind to interrupt her, too smart to lash out. Deep down he would find truth in what she had shared with him, but it would be some time before he allowed himself. This was not the first time she had seen him grieve and it would not be the last.
At least he accepted her offer to take to the skies. Few had the privileges she had to disappear into the clouds, but it always put her mind at ease. The troubles of the world, so far away, made it all seem manageable.
The winds picked up around them, swaying the grass and sending leaves whirling in front of them. Her feet left the ground first and it was only when she was a few feet above him that he began to follow. Though he would know that it was the currents of the wind that she manipulated to hold them in place, the ease at which she conjured the wind to her command made it feel more like levitating. She took them high into the sky, the sprawling Savage Land extending far behind their line of sight.
"Up here, the world can be ours. There are no boundaries we cannot cross. Where would you like to go?"
- - -
He felt the wind begin to pick up, swirling around them. He squeezed Storm's hand a little tighter as he looked around cautiously. He lowered his center of gravity to keep himself stable, but as he watched Ororo rise into the air, he let out a breath and decided -- for once -- that the best thing to do would be to relax.
And it was. He closed his eyes and felt the wind surrounding him increase in speed until his feet left the grass. He gave himself over to the feeling of weightlessness--
--falling--
--burning parachute--
--screaming--
--darkness--
--anchored by Ororo's firm yet gentle grip.
He opened his eyes and looked around. The scenery was breathtaking. He could see the Fall People's village in the plains, the freshwater river that began as an underground spring and emoted into the Gorahn Sea, the distant jungles, the roving dinosaur herds, and the surrounding snow-capped mountains that separated the Savage Land from the rest of the world. Scott had never seen the Savage Land from this point of view, but he realized Ororo saw this every time she flew.
He looked up at her. "How about the sea?" He could see a herd of large dinosaurs -- Brontosaurs? Brachiosaurs? Hank would have known -- drinking at the edge of the water.
- - -
Ororo could tell that he was giving himself a reprieve from the grief. It was a first step, but many more would have to come. She hoped that this day would see him ready to try again come the morning, have him eager to start anew with each dawn.
She smirked at his decision and did not hesitate to stir the winds in that direction. Her wild, white hair whipped around her as they glided, weightless towards the vibrant blue water. They were not alone in the sky, though the great pterosaurs that surrounded them were of no threat. The large creatures swooped past them, accepting their position in their clouded kingdom. They traveled a great distance with the wind as their guide and as they grew closer to the water, Ororo began to lower them. They hovered above the heads of great dinosaurs, none interested in the floating humans over them.
"Apatosaurus," Ororo informed. She was no expert, but she had listened to Hank's lectures before the start of their mission and she dared not lose the knowledge now. "At their feet, further in the water, and the Lambeosaurus. The others I do not know," she confessed. "Shall we go closer?"
- - -
"Closer sounds good." Scott was certainly impressed. He'd never have pegged Ororo for the type to know anything about dinosaurs. He supposed it just went to show how little he actually knew about his fellow X-Men.
Scott worked this over in his mind as the two of them approached the Gorahn Sea (more of a lake than a sea, in truth, but he didn't name it). The Apatosaurs and Lambeosaurs were cautious of them, sniffing the air. The large parents stood in front of their young, because as far as they were concerned, humanoids were hunters. Scott had no problem with watching from a distance.
"Listen, Ororo, I ... I feel like I should apologize for the way I've treated you and the other X-Men. Especially when we first met."
- - -
Ororo had drawn them closer to the dinosaurs, though there was enough distance that, after a time, the large creatures were content to let the two of them watch. They were no threat to them at this height, so far out of reach. It was not her intention to cause fear and she was pleased that their appearance had not sent the large herd elsewhere.
"When we first met? Has the really been troubling you?" She leaned back slightly in the air, comfortable in the element. "If you feel you must apologize, then you must tell me why. You have never directed ill-will towards me or the others. You have only ever led us admirably."
- - -
Ororo seemed confused about the way he’d treated the X-Men. Scott was baffled; all he could see were his own mistakes. “I’ve actually done a lot to push you away,” he explained. “The first team of X-Men had become my family. Before that, I didn’t have anyone. My parents were dead, and I couldn’t even remember them. My brother Alex had been adopted without me. I had an orphanage that didn’t know what to do with me, and then I just had life on the streets that…”
He trailed off. That era of his life was not pleasant.
“Then the Professor found me, and for the first time I felt like I had a home and family. Warren, Hank, Bobby … they were my brothers.” He smiled slightly. “I even found Alex back. And of course there was Jean and Lorna. “But then… they grew up. I guess I should have seen that coming, but they grew out of the X-Men. I couldn’t. Not for very long. So I guess … I feel betrayed. Especially by Hank, because he left first.” Scott scowled, angry at himself for taking Hank’s departure so personally.
“So then, you and the other X-Men had showed up. I really had no particular problem with you, and Sean I’d known from before, but the others? I think … I think I was too raw, I felt too betrayed. I felt like my family had walked out on me, so I decided I didn’t need family. I drove you guys harder than I ever drove the original X-Men. In the beginning, you guys weren’t family to me, you weren’t friends, and if you didn’t like me, I didn’t have to feel bad about possibly ordering you to go out and die.”
His teeth clenched. “And then one of you did.” The memory of John Proudstar’s death, months ago, was still upsetting. “And because I couldn’t go through that again, I drove you guys even harder. All that, and you all still managed to become a team.”
He looked at her, making eye contact even through thick ruby-quartz lenses. “You guys are becoming my friends. My family. And … and I think I don’t deserve it.”
- - -
Ororo listened without prejudice, any emotions that were stirred by his words did not show on her features. She let him speak until he was satisfied, let him share as much of himself as he dared. It was the first time that he had ever opened up to her in such a way, she wanted him to know that she would never discourage him from sharing such emotions with her.
When he finished, her eyes did not stray from his. She was considering her next words carefully. "Scott, you are a fool. I have followed you without question, many others have done the same. We did not do so blindly. You earned our trust by action. If you had wanted to destroy us, we would have been destroyed. Instead, you rebuilt. You found your family, your responsibility, and now you have us at your side for all of time. No other man is more deserving."
The distance between them closed, though her eyes never parted from his. "Scott, we would all be lost without you. If you continue to doubt yourself, doubt the bonds that have been created, we will all be forced to wander through wilderness. We need you. I need you."
- - -
Well. Ororo certainly never minced words.
Scott stared at her in slack-jawed amazement as she explained how much she actually did deserve to have the X-Men as his family. Only Charles Xavier could make him feel so chastised, but it felt differently coming from him. He somehow felt less of a need to beat himself up for his shortcomings. She simply made it clear that there was more on which to focus.
Speaking of focus, their faces inched closer together, and Scott could see an intriguing amount of vulnerability in her eyes. His team needed him, and specifically, she needed him. "I need you too," he replied, finding more truth to that than he realized.
Their faces were closer together, but their bodies were even closer. Somehow, Scott and Ororo had embraced, perhaps for stability as they were held aloft by winds. He didn't know when they had started clinging to each other so tightly, but he didn't want to let go.
- - -
A comforting embrace. It was not what Ororo had sought, but now that she had it, she wondered how she had gone so long without it. Her outward strength had been no facade, but in this moment there was no need to pretend that all was hell. They had both suffered greatly and the wounds needed to be tended. She leaned in and crooked her head, resting her temple against his shoulder. His skin was warm, his chest solid. She breathed a sigh and allowed herself a moment of peace.
They lingered in the air, unmoving for some time. The wisp of wind that held them aloft slowly picked up speed. It was subtle at first, but as time went on it seemed the sky had started to darken. Ororo had allowed herself a moment to lose control and a storm had followed. Her long, white hair whipped around them and a rumble of thunder sounded in the sky. The sound vibrated in her chest and she drew back. "We should return to the others."
Whatever she had allowed herself to feel in that moment was gone. The winds calmed and the sky returned to it's azure state.
- - -
Scott expected to feel guilt over the embrace he was sharing with Ororo, but instead he felt relief. Ororo apparently found a similar level of comfort, so he was content to remain like this. Clearly, this embrace was for the both of them.
And then, the weather turned brutal. Scott's heart raced in worry; was this typical of the Savage Land, or was it actually coming from Storm? "Any ideas what that was?" He asked. He wasn't sure, but a side-effect was that it caused him to hold onto her even tighter.
- - -
"Guilt," she replied quietly. She loosened her hold on him and leaned back enough to look into her eyes. "Come," she let her hand draw down his arm to take hold of his hand. She let it linger there a moment before she pulled it from her waist. "Let us return to the camp. There is much to reflect on." Once his other hand loosened she removed herself from him entirely and used the winds to guide them to the outskirts of camp.
When their feet touched the grass, Ororo was quick to put distance between them. "I know what was said cannot offer all that you need, but I hope it will be enough to comfort you this night. Should that fail, the chief's daughter will most certainly be available to lend an ear."
- - -
Scott definitely understood the guilt. He felt it acutely. He should have been able to do more to make sure Jean and Hank made it out of the volcano with the others. But just being here with Ororo made it the guilt less sharp.
He held her hand as they traveled back to the village, lost in thought. There was so much to process, but he was amazed at the difference Ororo's presence made. So it was that when they arrived, and she stepped away to part ways with him, Scott was reluctant for this experience to end. He stepped forward. "But ... what if it's your presence that comforts me?"
- - -
She offered a sad smile, resting a hand gently against his shoulder. "I have done nothing but tell you what you need to hear. There is little else I can offer, Scott," she said softly. He was a strong and capable man, he did not need her, just as she did not need him. She only wanted his closeness.
"Come to my tent," she decided, turning her back to him. She began to stroll through the tents, aware of all those who were watching them. Many were curious where the two had disappeared to, where they intended to go now. None of their fellow X-Men were present. They had all found comforting embraces elsewhere.
Ororo's tent was easy to find. There was a line of strong men positioned outside, all eager to have a chance with the weather witch. She simply raised a hand to move them from the entrance of her tent. She stepped inside, expecting Scott to follow. Her tent was nearly identical to his, though she had been gifted more furs for warmth than he had. "What more can I offer, Scott?"
- - -
Ororo didn't quite seem to appreciate how much she was doing for him, but she was doing a lot. When she invited him to her tent, he became nervous. Was this where their friendship was going? Were they going from teammates to confidants to ... something that might betray the woman they both loved?
He pondered this during their walk to her tent. They even passed by a line of braves who had basically camped out. Some of them Scott had met and worked with on their hunts. This added another unfortunate wrinkle to the situation: judging by the looks in their eyes as they watched Scott accompany Ororo in their tent, they would take it as an insult if Ororo had bedded Scott instead of one of them. The idea was for her to bear a child for the tribe, made from the bloodline of one of their own. If she'd picked him -- a fellow outsider -- instead of one of them, the village would be shamed. Or at least, that was how Scott had come to understand it when he tried having the Fall people's customs explained to him. He didn't agree with the reasoning -- whom Ororo took into her tent was her business, and she should have to answer to no one -- but he understood that the Fall People's culture brought its own expectations, social mores, and politics.
Even after Ororo dispersed the crowd, Scott was reluctant to step inside, despite how inviting her fur-lined tent looked. "Quite a bit, actually," he admitted, "but ... I don't think this would be the best time for either of us. Jean--"
He heard shouting from the outskirts of the village. One of those voices was Sean Cassidy's. Concerned, Scott ventured out far enough to get a line of sight to what was going on. "Storm, we have an emergency."
Sean and two native women were dragging an unarmored and unconscious Peter Rasputin into the village. The women were frantically explaining to the elders what had happened. To Scott and the other X-Men who converged on them, Sean explained, "the lad was attacked. He was out entertainin' these two young women when some strange man jumped out and touched him. I was the first to get there. The women said the man drained his energy, then ... well, they said he turned into one of the flying dinosaurs, but I think something may have been misunderstood in the translation."
Scott knelt down and looked at the younger X-Man's condition. Pale, sweaty, with a low pulse.... "I think they communicated the situation perfectly," Scott replied. "I've seen this before: a man who can drain life energy and turn into a pterosaur."
He stood up, looking upward above the treeline. He spotted what looked like a pteranodon circling the sky overhead. But upon more careful inspection it was clear this one had a partial humanoid shape. "There he is! It's Sauron!" He removed his ruby-quartz sunglasses, unleashing a wide spray of concussive energy at Sauron, who banked to narrowly avoid the beam.
As Sauron dived toward the village, already spouting a stock-villain monologue in his usual raspy voice, Scott called out to his teammates. "Storm, he glides on updrafts; see if you can whip up enough wind to keep him at bay without wrecking the village! Nightcrawler, get the natives to safety. Banshee, give him an earful, and keep it up until he drops. Wolverine, you're on reserve in case he manages to get too close. Don't let him touch you, people, and above all, don't make eye contact with him!"
- - -
The shouting was all it took for the two of them to quickly put aside their own conversation and focus on where deadlier troubles rested. She remained in the tent, listening intently to what transpired outside, her concentration only broken by Scott's reemergence. She gave a simple nod of acknowledgement to the danger and followed him out of the tent.
Sean's explanation was enough for Ororo to know that this attack was not in error. They had been targeted by a foul villain of this place. To attack one of their own was to attack them all. This creature knew not the fury he had invoked by harming Piotr. Though she was worried for the young man, she stood back. She was not gifted in medicine and taking position at his side would only put her in the way. The Fall People would be his aid.
As soon as Scott called focus to the beast in the sky, Ororo's attention followed. Sauron was impossible to miss, it was only fortunate he took solace in her domain. Their foe would not last long, not while she still controlled the elements. Scott's attack was all the order she needed to bring the sky against Sauron. She rose just a few feet off the ground, bringing the winds to her aid while turning them against their enemy. Each attempt at a dive attack was countered by a push of wind that sent him spiraling out of control. She was faster than he and had far more talent when it came to the sky.
Nightcrawler was quick to weave in and out of the crowds, teleporting where he was needed in order to ensure the safety of the Fall People. The men and women were quick to help one another find safety, as well as take Piotr with them to be tended to. It was only the sudden siren the erupted from the mouth of Sean Cassidy that froze them temporarily in place. The sound may not have been directed at them, but it shook them to their very core. Some recovered in just a few moments, moving much more quickly to escape the area, while others stared in awe as the sheer vibrations of sound began to shake the pteradon out of the sky.
It took more than Banshee's scream to bring him down, but Storm's expert control over the wind helped keep Sauron tangled in the sky, giving the others time to escape. Before Sean's scream died down, Ororo brought the full force of the wind down upon the villain, sending the flying reptilian crashing into the earth.
- - -
The X-Men brought down Sauron according to plan; he hit the ground rather painfully, narrowly avoiding breaking a wing finger.
"Now to make sure you don't get back up," Wolverine declared as he rushed to Sauron's side with his claws at the ready, despite Cyclops' protests.
"Wolverine! I told you, you're in reserve! He's already down!"
"Reserve ain't gonna keep Tweety here on the ground, bub," Wolverine retorted. Standing on one of Sauron's wings, he crouched over him and prepared to deal catastrophic amounts of damage.
The problem was, he hadn't noticed Sauron's prehensile tail snaking its way around his neck until the tail tightened like a python. The contact allowed Sauron to begin siphoning his energy.
"Stop him," Scott shouted, frustrated that he wasn't close enough to intervene in time, and without his visor he couldn't fire a tight-beamed optic blast. Similarly,
Sauron's tail directed Wolverine's posture so that the short X-Man was face to face with Sauron, whose eyes were wide with feverish hypnosis. "Look into my eyes," he rasped. "See your friends as the enemies they-- ARRH!"
Nightcrawler had teleported in close to Sauron and performed a forward roll with an outstretched leg that culminated in Kurt bringing his heel down on the side of Sauron's skull. That broke Sauron's concentration, so he was unable to fully program Wolverine's perceptions.
Wolverine blinked and shook his head, then glared at Sauron in outrage. "Nobody messes with my head like that!" He raised a claw-adored fist, preparing to puncture the barely-conscious Sauron's skull with it, when a roar cut through his focused rage.
Scott and the other X-Men had been shouting at Wolverine to stop, but he hadn't heard it. The roar of a large tawny sabretoothed cat was a different matter. The cat strode into view, accompanied by two human companions -- a man and a woman, both blond, Caucasian, and athletic -- dressed in fashion similar to the Fall People.
While Scott had met the cat and the man, he hadn't personally met the blonde woman. Still, the Fall People talked about them frequently, so by this time the X-Men were well aware of the reputations of Zabu, Ka-Zar, and Shanna the She-Devil.
"Cyclops, you've done well to call off your team," Ka-Zar remarked. "Karl Lykos is on my side. I had sent him ahead of us to warn this village of an impending threat to the Savage Land."
Wolverine had retracted his claws, but he was still breathing hard, itching for a fight. "Warn us? That what you call it?" Sauron's form was slowly shifting into that of a scraggly, dark-haired man.
- - -
The team slowly pulled their focus away from the pteradon-turned-man in order to focus on the appearance of the newcomers, but both Nightcrawler and Logan kept a wary eye on the initial attacker.
"Perhaps not the wisest of choices, but here you stand. What warning have you brought?" Storm asked. She was still hovering above the ground, her eyes solid white. It was clear she did not trust those who had arrived, her choice to remain in the air one of dominance.
"One that the villagers should hear," Shanna spoke confidently. "They need to prepare."
The villagers, however, had not gotten far. Those who had lingered were privy to the conversation and had already started to gather the others. The Fall People slowly returned, taking position to the sides of the X-Men and Ka-Zar and his people. It was a neutral stance, one the proved they were willing to listen.
With the villagers present, Ka-Zar continued. "Garokk has returned."
- - -
Whispers and murmurs were exchanged through the crowd of villagers. Chief Tongah stepped forward, a look of grave concern on his features. "We must meet in Council House," he declared.
The village's Council House, the central structure in the village, was filled to capacity ten minutes later. Once the X-Men, the Fall People's edlers, and the tribe's braves ere assembled, Ka-Zar, Shanna, and Lykos explained to them how a sorceress named Zaladane had transformed an abducted sailor into an avatar for the ancient god Garokk, the Petrified Man of the Savage Land's folklore.
"He has created an enormous citadel in the Savage Land," Ka-Zar continued, "that is siphoning power from the alien machines that keep this land a tropic in the Antartic. The more power the citadel draws, the colder this land will get. Soon, it will be the same eternal-winter wasteland as the rest of the continent, and every one of us will die. We have come to the Fall People to enlist aid in stopping this abomination."
"You have it," Tongah agreed. "It is fortunate these X-Men are also here to aid in your cause."
Scott momentarily bristled at being drafted into this conflict just like that, but he had to admit he would have offered the X-Mens help anyway. "It's certainly not the kind of thing my team would just stand by and let happen," Scott commented. He could see Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and Banshee just itching to help, for starters. He glanced at Ororo, fairly sure she would want to help as well, but wanting to see her reaction all the same.