[narf poit chez BOOM]

The story had turned out a lot more emotional than I had planned. Took me a while to work up the courage to post it. A bit of info is reposted.

And here's the first peice of the story; time will advance rapidly between story points. On the two protagonists: in a world like this(until it warms up, which I think will happen very fast, geologically, maybe 250~ years) I think the life span would be around 30-40 years; 40 years would be equivalent to around 100 years our time, 30=50; the two protagonists are both adults at the experienced age of 16 and 18. This tribes story starts in 4345CF(CometFall):

Micsha hugged her parka closer and peered into the howling blizzard. Granda said the world was warmer than when he was a kid; she could hardly imagine it being colder than it was now.
Beside her, the bulk of Theird protected her from some of the snow whiping straight down the column. They had been married for only two months, but already she had a little one coming. Her anxiety deepened; the hunters hadn't come back Last night and although somebody up front was obviously guiding their roped-together column, she had no idea if they were really going somewhere; she had no strength to talk and didn't really want to risk an answer.
Micsha fell into a reverie as the cold numbed her further; the whole world seemed to be each step and at times it was as if the only thing keeping her up was the rope and Theird's arm.
She roused from her dreamy thoughts to the smell of tea and the sun shining through her eyelids. Somehow, she was lying on pine bows. It'd been so long since she'd seen a pine she wasn't sure at first, but Granda had taught all of them what things were what, calling out the names and uses of things as they passed them.
"Hey" a voice said. She smelled soup and looked up into the face of Thierd. "The scouts found us a nice valley. There's even some vegetables for the soup!".
She wondered distantly why he sounded so concered. And why she couldn't seem to move. "How long have I been asleep?"
"You've been sick." For a moment, tears glistened at the edges of his eyes. "You slept for four days."
"The baby?"
"Granda says he's okay."
Releif filled her.
She struggled to sit up again, but he pushed her gently back down. "You're to lie down till the end of the next day. Granda's orders. Now, eat."
He spooned soup into her until she fell asleep.

Micsha stood at the edge of the cave. It really was sneaky of Granda to say she could get up at the end of the second day, but that was to be expected; he was older than any of them. She wasn't sure how much older, but a lot. He wasn't really her Granda either, her Granda had died killing a wolf, or so she had been told. Anyway, it was now the morning of the third day and she could see the valley the scouts had found.
It was beutiful. Granda had said that the surounding mountains made it so most of the snow fell on the mountains. The valley below stretched out a mile accross and spread out as far as the eye could see and as far as the eye could see was green. Not all green, she had to admit, but a lot. The scouts had come accross a whole herd of dear; one of them was cooking over the firepit now.