First or Third Person?

Part of Tamrhys' story

Do I tell it in first or third person??

FIRST PERSON

         The early years of my life past by swiftly and uneventfully, save for the births of my three siblings. Unfortunately, as often happens, reality stepped in. The shout that would change every thing ripped through the jungle quiet shortly after my eleventh birthday.
         “Get the children into the trees! The Orati are coming!”

These awful words spread through the village like wildfire. The savage Orati raiders were on their way. Near panic ensued as the warriors gathered up their weapons and the women rushed to get all the children safely into the trees.
         “Hurry, Tamrhys!” my mother urged, the frantic cries of my people ringing in my ears. “Get your brothers and sister up in the tree as far as you can go!”

         With that, Jaleen turned and ran for the jungle, changing shape as she went. La'ref had already disappeared into the fray. Horrendous shouts, terrible war cries, and screams of pain echoed through the forest. Terrified, I secured Linra, my little sister, to my back and urged my brothers to climb faster. All that day, through the long night, and into the next we clung to the highest branches of our home listening to the sounds of battle. At times, pockets of fighting would break into the village clearing. An Orati warrior dashed towards the chief’s hut, only to be shot in through the back. As he fell to the ground his hand brushed the doorframe.

         Gradually, as the Orati were pushed back, the sounds faded, only to be replaced by the moans of the wounded and dying. To this day I could not say which was worse. After what seemed like an eternity, the adult survivors called the children down from the trees. We had to be careful where we stepped, because blood soaked the ground in puddles.

         Before long, a warrior brought news of my father's death. I didn't have time to worry about my mother. With the magic timing of a mother of four, Jaleen appeared. She folded me into her arms and our tears mingled. The time of mourning and rebuilding had begun.

THIRD PERSON

         The early years of Tamrhys' life past by swiftly and uneventfully, save for the births of her three siblings. Unfortunately, as often happens, reality stepped in. The shout that would change every thing ripped through the jungle quiet shortly after her eleventh birthday.
         “Get the children into the trees! The Orati are coming!”

These awful words spread through the village like wildfire. The savage Orati raiders were on their way. Near panic ensued as the warriors gathered up their weapons and the women rushed to get all the children safely into the trees.
         “Hurry, Tamrhys!” her mother urged, the frantic cries of the people ringing in her ears. “Get your brothers and sister up in the tree as far as you can go!”

         With that, Jaleen turned and ran for the jungle, changing shape as she went. La'ref had already disappeared into the fray. Horrendous shouts, terrible war cries, and screams of pain echoed through the forest. Terrified, Tamrhys secured Linra, her little sister, to her back and urged the two boys to climb faster. All that day, through the long night, and into the next they clung to the highest branches of their home listening to the sounds of battle. At times pockets of fighting would break into the village clearing. An Orati warrior dashed towards the chief’s hut, only to be shot through the back. As he fell to the ground his hand brushed the doorframe.

         Gradually, the Orati were pushed back and the sounds faded, only to be replaced by the moans of the wounded and dying. To this day, when asked the children would be hard pressed to say which was worse. After what seemed like an eternity, the adult survivors called the children down from the trees. Gingerly, to avoid the gore littering the ground, everyone began to look for thier loved ones.

         Before long, a warrior brought news to Tamrhys and her siblings. Their father was dead. The children did not have time to worry about Jaleen. With the magic timing of a mother of four, she appeared. Enfolding then into her arms, hot tears mingled. The time of mourning and rebuilding had begun.