Yoonda Legends

While the Yoonda clans are all one race, and consider themselves to be one people, they each have a very different oral history, and find nothing wrong with this. They consider each land to have its own history, and that they are all harmonious with each other, even if it is hard to understand how.

There are several tales of notable Yoonda in other histories as well, most notably Metraartha the Beautifuland

Stories from the Yeti
Mother Cold called forth her sons to her, the Wind and the Ice, and told them that "Ssshuuuuussss," the first word, had been spoken. This was the sacred song of their sister, the Breath, who is the source of all warmth and all that is good. Mother Cold said to Wind and Ice that they must find their sister Breath, who had been stolen by the Harsh ones, who grew spines against the coming of Father Sky, instead of opening their soft arms to him, as the Yeti did.

Mother Cold wailed "Whomever first finds my daughter shall decide who will be their people to guide and protect, the Yeti or the Harsh Ones, and the other must content himself with the remainder. Such is my love for Breath, who lives in both peoples."

Wind and Ice then set off. Wind traveled quickly through the land, looking here and there, frantically, for Breath, sure he would find her first, as they were both joined with the same form, and therefore he knew what secret places she could find. Ice, however, stayed still, as he has throughout the ages, and always shall, though part of him may fall into the Black Sea. Surely, Ice reasoned, as I am all that is upon this land, and all that is upon this land is upon me, I shall find Breath simply because I am where she is.

Tales of the Buffal People
This is an on going document of the various folklore tales of the Buffalo Tribe. Keep in mind that there will be a fair amount of inconsistencies, because these legends are from both the many herds of the Buffalo People as well as the herds of cattle they befriended. A lot of world views going on.

The Mother Gruuummmmuuuugggg and the Bull GuuuuuuuurrrrrnNNNun were the first, and from them came the ground and the sky. And Gruuummmmuuuugggg gave birth to the white calfs, who followed their father across the sky, and they are the first herd. But Gruuummmmuuuugggg stayed on the earth, which she loved, and fostered the blue calfs, who in their joy ran across their mother's shoulders and to the sea, and gave birth to their own children. And Gruuummmmuuuugggg was lonely, for her children all left her. But she soon gave birth again, and it was to the brown calf, whose name is Grun, and she saw that he was of the earth and was not eternal like his brothers and sisters and could be killed, and as such she wished to keep him close. But Grun was willfull and left his mother when he was still scarcely a calf. He became lost in the wild for a time, a story which is the longest epic poem in the Yoonda dialect of the Gold Plains.

One day, during the time that rain is plentiful, the mother Gumungah was with her calf who had not yet found its name in the herd. She was teaching her calf how to search the ground for food when a wolf sprang from the earth and snatched her calf up. It ran across the great plains, the calf in its stone teeth, and Gumungah gave chase, following the cries of her calf whose name had not yet been found. So great were her bellows of rage that they wrapped around her and reached up to the sky, and still she gave chase. But in her rage she failed to hear that the cries of the calf that she had born into the world had ceased for it had been devoured. So great was her rage, in fact, that she forgot how to stop running and eventually ran up into the clouds. She returns to earth whenever she thinks she hears her calf, and her anger is terrible and strange.

(This legend comes from the Northern Herds)

Long ago, the great field of water would shine with light whenever the moon would smile on it. In those days, our people could walk on the field of water just as easily as we could the fields of grass, and the taste of the light on the water was ten times as sweet as that of grass. Our ancestors disobeyed the sun's command to eat only the grass that he blessed them with, choosing instead to graze on the sweet light of the water and we multiplied and became plentiful and proud. But as they ate the moon's reflection in the water, they ate the moon itself, until there was only a small sliver of it was left in the sky, sad and alone. As our ancestors approached the last strip of light on the water, hungry without end, suddenly a terrible cold wind blew down from the north, and it smelled like blood and rotten wood, and the hungriest of our ancestor were cursed with forgetting, and they forgot how to walk upon the water and drowned. Only a few remembered enough to follow the last strip of light on the water back to the shore, but when they reached the shore they realized that they, too, had forgotten how to walk on the water.

(An alternate telling of the same story)

Long ago, the great field of water would shine with light whenever the moon would smile on it. In those days, our people could walk on the field of water in which the moon's face was reflected just as easily as they could the fields of grass, and the taste of the light on the water was ten times as sweet as that of grass. Our ancestors disobeyed the sun's command to eat only the grass that he blessed them with, choosing instead to graze on the sweet light of the water and we multiplied and became plentiful and proud. We grazed backwards, because if were to graze forwards we would drop into the dark water. Soon our herd moved from the land to the water and began to graze without end. But as we reached the center of the lake, we discovered that we had trapped ourselves in the center with no hope of escape. And in our terror we cried up to the moon to save us, but in horror we saw that she had been reduced to a thin sliver of light from our grazing of her reflection. We begged her forgiveness, and because the moon loves us she gave it to us. She would create a path back to the shore for us. And she stretched out her image across the water to the shore and our herd began to walk. But some became impatient with hunger and began to eat the bridge. Our ancestors saw this folly and charged them, pushing them into the dark water. But the moon saw this and was saddened, and when we reached the shore she withdrew her reflection from us and has held it to herself ever since.

The Tall ones that do not have faces are the lost children of the First Mother. They were once trees, in a place that is cold and far away where the trees cluster together for warmth. The trees clustered together so thick and so tight that they created deep shadows, and in those shadows some of them forgot what the sun smelled like, and the cold bit into their hides and made their hearts die inside them.

the Oral History of the Xridak
When the monsoons of the Sky Father first beat over the world, the herds were so large they would block the sun if she shined, and the ground was curved and full of mountains, for the Earth Mother was voluptuous. In those days, in the pouring rains in the mountains of the Earth Mother, the herds were wild, and fought among themselves, spilling blood of their bothers and making the Earth Mother tremble at their boundless fury, and the Sky Father echoed with thier calls.

But the beating rains of the Sky Father smoothed out the land into a wide plain, forcing the secret caves of the Earth Mother under ground and in deep pools and wide rivers. The herds of the land were also crushed beneath the rains of the Sky Father, and became small and lean, able to run quickly between the harsh drops of rain. The herds grew less wild, as they had to find shelter from the new, harsh sun which beat down on them.

Each new tribe was formed in these times, when they sought shade under trees, and the light that shined through the leaves burned the pattern of the foliage onto their flanks, marking them as brothers in one tribe, though they were all of one herd.