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Attacks in defense of the Barrens were still in the works. The location of missing persons was heavy on her mind. And she was continuously getting messages from people both enemy and ally asking to meet and talk. The honorable reputation of the Ishnu Por Ah and Red Earth herself was in question thanks to misunderstandings and outright lies. Much on her mind and much to do. And a rare thing would turn Red Earth’s attention from such matters.

He came to the Bluffs from the south, his pack kodo laden with the skins and bones of the beasts of the mountains, a travelling merchant bearing a message from the tribe which had given him these items to sell. The message was for her and the tribe was her family’s tribe, the Swifthorn. As he relayed their words to her, the wrinkles of concern upon her brow became deeper.

“They ask you to return home. You are needed. But not before I’ve exchanged these goods for them. So that you can return with the trade.”

Red Earth nodded. She told him he had a day. That was all she would need to gather her things and find her sister. Kickfeather would want to go as well when she heard the news. All that was happening didn’t matter anymore right now. She needed to go home.

((OOC: Aroo?))

((This takes place a couple weeks back. This is actually posted on the "Stomping Hooves" thread on the CC forums, but it's relevent to this thread as well.))

Kickfeather flew high in the air above the Alliance stronghold. She’d been there for quite some time, simply circling high in the air, counting heads, watching the ships come and go, tracing the patterns of the guards, memorizing the layout of the buildings. If the people of Theramore noticed her, they made no sign. She’d been tempted to take the risk and fly lower to see what they would do. Make the guards yell, dodge a few arrows, see if they could get a mage to try and burn her down with fire. Kickfeather could always give the excuse that she was testing their defenses.

But it wasn’t the truth and she, for whatever reason, was being smart. Even though she was angry. She wasn’t usually so smart when she was angry.

So instead she just circled, looking down on the well established fortifications on the shores of the swamp. Wondering what it would take to clear out and destroy its central keep and those inside.

“Eh, to Fel with it.”

She circled down and landed her hippogryph atop one of the towers currently unguarded. She was being marginally safe. She’d been watching for hours and knew she had a little while before some guard passed close enough to detect her. These Theramore folks thought they were safe in their walls in the middle of a swamp. They weren’t like the Alliance in the Barrens who plowed their armies into the heart of their territories and destroyed Horde encampments and Tauren villages. They attacked, so they’re ready to defend too.

Though how were these Pinkies any different? Hadn’t they come from across the ocean and without a by your leave decided to plant a fortified town on land foreign to them? Didn’t even look to see if anyone lived here already. At least it was just Grimtotems and ogres.

And okay, suuuuuuuuuuuuuuure, Kickfeather thought, that Pinkie mage lady, whoever she is, so bad with names, said she was there under truce with the Horde. They don’t hurt the Horde, the Horde don’t hurt them. Horde let ‘em stay because of that, right? Thrall and her all buddy buddy because of the alliance made upon Hyjal how many years back under the big giant tree of greatness. Okay, she could accept that.

But what about now? Were they holding onto that truce really now?

Kickfeather jerked her reins and directed her hippogryph to fly along the ramparts and land closer to the main gate. She peered around, keeping a watchful eye and secretly hoping for any guards that might have seen her. Inwardly disappointed she then looked west. From here she could see it, clear as could be. The start of a road, this part of it already paved as it reached out from Theramore’s main gate and headed straight for the Barrens. This was the road they came on and now still used to send their armored war machines and troops and builders to strengthen Fort Triumph and prepare a siege on Mulgore.

Bunch of mistrustful, dishonorable liars! This was no truce. This was the break of that vow. They weren’t like the Shu’halo. A lying Shu’halo might as well be a dead Shu’halo. That’s why the Grimtotem were getting their due. A true Shu’halo always spoke true. They always kept their word. And they always walked with honor. Fel Alliance were too stupid to see that. But who could blame them? They didn’t know how to keep their word and Theramore and this road was proof of that. Liars think everyone’s liars.

“Well, not my sister! You hear me! Not Red Earth of the Blackhide! She wouldn’t lie to any you damned Pinkies! Not about Faithe, not about the Barrens! When the truth comes out, and you actually see it, you’ll all be sorry! And if that ain’t enough, I’ll make you sorry!”

Her rant was answered by the swish of an arrow flying passed her ear and the shout and scrambling of the guards. Without hesitation, Kickfeather took flight again. She’d spoken her truth and it wasn’t her time to die just yet. West she flew, low enough to spook the guards on the road but fast enough that there was no way for them to catch her.

“Catch me if you can!” she taunted, laughing and counting the bridges along the road as she flew along it back to the Barrens. Seeing what she saw, she was pretty sure it could be done. It was time to make sure it happened. Time to bomb the road. She would start to make the call to the others.

Just then, the voice of her sister rang from her hearthstone. She could barely make it out as she sped through the sky.

“What?” she asked when she was able to land safely among the hills that separated the marsh from the barren plains, tapping on the hearthstone to make sure it was working alright. “Sorry, Sis, doing some scouting and having a little ‘fun’. Wait until you hear what I got planned.”

“It will have to wait. Gather what you need. We’re heading to the tribe.”

“Home?” Kickfeather was perplexed. “Why? Now? But we were just there not too long ago. And wait until you hear my plan.”

“They’ve told me to come home. And you’ll want to come too.”

Now Kickfeather was worried. She knew the tribe wouldn’t ask her sister to come ‘home’ because they didn’t consider it her home anymore. “Why?” she was almost afraid to ask.

There was a pause.

“Two Clouds is dead.”

The words hit her like a charging kodo. She rubbed the hearthstone so it would whisk her straight away to Thunder Bluff. Her hippogryph would find its own way back.

It was easier to find the roaming bands of the Swifthorn than in previous times. Before, Red Earth would have to consider the time of year, the changes in the weather, the movement of the herds to determine where along the western hills of the Barrens her still nomadic tribe was encamped. The range of trails they followed could be as far south as the jungles of Feralas and as far north as the mountains which are separated the Barrens from Ashenvale. It was a long, narrow range they followed, but it had served them well for generations.

At least that’s how it used to be. With the Barrens ripped apart by the devastating force of Deathwing’s rise and the increased warring between Horde, Alliance, Quillboar and Centaur, the tribe had been cut off from much of their ancestral trails and forced to stay south. And now Red Earth could fly high in the sky thanks to the generosity of the red drake who now called her friend and find them from above. Along with the information given to her by the merchant, she would be able to locate them in a fraction of the time it had taken her before. Flying mounts made it easier for anyone to find them, she thought a touch worriedly.

As she and Kickfeather circled overhead upon finding them, the actions of the tribe made it obvious that they were no stranger to this idea now themselves. Those who could not fight, quickly ran for cover while the many warriors of the tribe, without hesitation, stepped out with bows and guns aimed straight at them. It was not like the Swifthorn to be so obviously mistrustful. Waving to Red Earth to get her attention, Kickfeather pointed to the southern shores of the small lake next to which the tribe had settled. It would be a safe distance for them to land and the tribe could come to them and welcome them openly.

With a nod, she followed her sister’s guidance and as they flew over the lake, Red Earth took in the scene. There were many of them. It looked like all of them, in fact. All three clans of the Swifthorn tribe, who normally only gathered twice a year at high summer and deep winter, had gathered together upon the shores of this lake high in the mountains between Feralas and Mulgore. An unusual thing for all of them to settle so high up. The hunt for so many would not be good here and it meant giving up their riding herds of kodo which could not make the climb. She could see no herds nearby. If not slaughtered for use they would have been released to return to the wilder herds of the Barrens.

“How is that any way to say hello to your Sisters! Pointing arrows at our heads!” Kickfeather admonished thickly and loudly in Taurahe as the scouts approached.

The tense and serious visages of the welcome party one by one relaxed and turned into smiles as a few of them recognized the boisterous voice of Kickfeather and rushed to greet them with open arms.

Despite the weighty reason for their returning to the tribe, the greetings made to them when they entered the village were typical of every return. Kickfeather was met by the whoops and slaps of her old friends as they encircled her. She was home and would be hunting, drinking, dancing and telling stories with them in no time like she had never left. Red Earth received a different sort of welcome. They were all friends and family, and those closest to her greeted her with a friendly smile and gentle touch. But along with it was a certain distance of respect, further indicated by some of them bowing their head in reverence and some even taking her hand and touching it to their brow as they did so. Though her blood and kin surrounded her, she was not home. This was the path in life Por Ah had put her on.

That is until a lone graying old woman stood before her. There was no degree of acknowledgement of her status as an outsider from this one. Her eyes glistened with happiness as she took her face between her hands and kissed her cheeks and forehead, then wrapped her arms around her. Red Earth returned the embrace lovingly, happy to be greeted home by White Hoof, her mother.

From here Red Earth would have liked to be dragged off by her mother, brought to her fire, stuffed with her food and had her ears filled by the stories of the tribe. But as she pulled away from their embrace, she noticed the crowd parting nearby to allow an aged Bull and his entourage to approach her. Chief Graymane bowed respectfully to her, with his aide, a young brave of maybe 20 years helping him to hold his balance. It had only been a few months since they had last seen each other. But the revered elder looked like he had taken on many more years since then. The Chief had lived a very long time and the call of his ending days were definitely showing now. His two most trusted counselors with him, his oldest son, Running Lion, and an old warrior named Spirit Chaser, Red Earth’s uncle, her father’s brother, greeted her likewise.

“Welcome, Walker. We are grateful for your swift arrival,” Running Lion spoke for the elderly Chief.

Red Earth bowed with deep respect to Chief Graymane. “We came as soon as your message arrived, Greatfather. We could not delay after hearing such news.”

A few sighs and cries of lament came from the gathered crowd at the mention of recent events.

“As we knew you would. Come, there is much to discuss.”

Without any other words or gestures, the Chief turned to return to his lodge, his counselors and others following. There would be many ears upon their discussion. Red Earth looked to her mother apologetically, but her mother’s smile and wave told her to follow the chief. She had been the wife of a Blackhide shaman and was the mother and aunt of them too. She understood that there were duties for some that were more important than herself.

As Red Earth followed the chief, Kickfeather came from behind her mother and grabbed her in a hearty hold. She kissed her cheek and whispered into her mother’s ear.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you’ll get to feed her.”

White Hoof was able to get a squeeze of her youngest daughter’s arm before she rushed off to join her sister.

Tribal council meetings took their time among the Swifthorn. As the Chief and his counselors, Red Earth and Kickfeather, waited patiently by the fire of the chief’s lodge, it was being decided by other members of the tribe who would be the others to sit with them and have a voice in what was to be discussed. As these decisions were being made, it gave the two sister’s the opportunity to be visited by more family, particularly Whisper Grass, their aunt and the mother of Two Clouds, the boy who had lost his life. This was not just a personal tragedy for the Blackhide family, but a tribal one as well. Something which was sure to be discussed once the council was in session. But for now, Red Earth and Kickfeather spent this time with their aunt comforting her sharing their condolences.

The proper people gathered, the ceremony of the pipe was performed. Red Earth was glad to see it was being done by a young boy. It was good that he was taking to his place among the honored members of the tribe. This was her cousin, Jumping Stone, twin brother of Two Clouds. There were those who would consider them prodigies. But for the Swifthorn, the twins had simply been following tribal tradition taking their roles, even so young. The brothers were the shaman of the Swifthorn tribe. Their age did not matter. Born true Blackhides, their pure black coats marked them from birth as the tribe’s voice of the Earthmother, the bridge between this world and the world of the Ancestors. It was their birth which had also marked Red Earth’s own path as much as her hide of red did, declaring she was not meant to stay with the tribe even though she had heard the calling of her family’s right.

Jumping Stone stood before them, calling the fire to light the sacred pipe. Lifting the pipe to the sky, he offered up a prayer and greeting to the Ancestors. He faced all four directions to invite all spirits to join them in council. Then bringing it down to touch the earth, welcomed Por Ah herself. It was then that he offered the pipe to Running Lion who took the first draw before sending it around the council circle, each member taking their turn to share in communion with all who had gathered, people, spirits and Por Ah. Chief Graymane was last. He took his pipe slowly, eyes closed, wafting the smoke about his head with his hand. All who had gathered, council and observers, waited in silence for this sacred ceremony to complete. It was Graymane’s words, which billowed out with the smoke as he slipped the pipe away from his lips, that broke the silence.

“The tribe will speak of the days past so that our visitor might know what weighs heavy on our minds. Tell her of our trails and our losses since the days of Winter’s Veil, so she may know what decisions we must make and why.”

And with that began the stories that told Red Earth how the three clans of the Swifthorn tribe had been forced to come together on the mountains. Some of this she already knew. Having wintered in the northern parts of Feralas, the rising of the quillboar had cut them off from their lower hill trails to get them back easily to the Barrens. The Clan of the Three Rivers chose to head farther south in Feralas to hunt the wolves and the hippogryph. The Clan of the Shining Trees went west along the mountains hoping for good game along the ridges that separated Feralas from Stonetalon Mountains. And the Clan of the Windy Hills chose to climb the high hill trails to gain access once again to hunting in the Barrens. But it was not long before the first two villages met resistance from the Grimtotem who in their retreat from Mulgore had become more aggressive. They could find no true peaceful place to settle. And though the Clan of the Windy Hills seemed safe from the Grimtotem’s rage, they’re exposed location high in the hills, with not much room to run, opened them to attack from the sky.

It was from the sky that the brigands came, early one morning. A band of no more than twelve, but they had taken the sleeping village by surprise. And their leader bearing death magic and the curse of disease, rendering the villagers who faced them weak with sickness if not dead. At least one Death Knight among them, Red Earth did not doubt, and humans and dwarves from what the people described. They began to burn homes, but they did not kill many. It was obvious their goal was to take them as chattel and sell them into slavery.

But then Two Clouds rose from among the people. Many tried to stop the small boy, but he would have none of it. He stood before the leader and told him none would be taken as his slaves. The Death Knight laughed at Two Clouds asking what the little boy could do to him, mocking him and wondering where this tiny little braves armor and weapons were. He would loan him some so it would be a fair fight. Two Clouds simply answered, without fear,

“I need none. You will kill me and then you will die. Earthmother guide you so my people will be safe.”

And the boy had spoken truth. There was no reason or honor in it as the Death Knight grabbed the boy from the ground and spewed his vile breath of disease upon Two Cloud’s face. The cries of horror and anger rose from the people as they watched this cursed man kill a child and a true Blackhide simply out of pure delight. Their rage erupted as they all surged forth and killed the man and his band, ripping him apart with their horns and hooves.

There was silence.

“You say his name too much,” Jumping Stone remarked, breaking the silence. Many agreed and a few apologized. It was ill to speak the name of the recently dead. It risked their safe journey to join the Ancestors. With that, the boy rose, leaned over to whisper into Graymane’s ear and then left the circle. No one stopped him from leaving.

“They were sent off with fire,” Running Lion then continued.

Red Earth nodded, understanding. The Swifthorn death rites were very simple. The bodies of the dead laid to rest out in the open for all the elements to take the parts to which they lay claim. It was a measured way to return the body to Por Ah and a reminder of the connectedness of her Balance. Shu’halo should not hide from death while alive, nor should death be hidden from the living. For them it was a bad omen, to burn so many and be rid of them so quickly. And to have one of them be a young Blackhide shaman was tragedy. Though Jumping Stone still lived, it left the burden of responsibility solely on him until Por Ah blessed the family and tribe with another true Blackhide. And so it was with this tragedy, that Graymane sent word to the other clans to join together at a known safe haven. A plateau with a lake high in the mountains where under normal circumstances of duress they could find safety for a short while.

They had been here now nearly a month. The animal hides and sundries they had sent with the merchant who had contacted Red Earth was nearly all that they had acquired while here and were able to spare to trade for food and other tools. That they were trading for food was sign enough that this was not the place for the Swifthorn tribe to stay and live. The Swifthorn prided themselves on their self-sustainability. For the most basic needs in life they had relied solely on what nature provided for them. The freedom of their long range of trails had allowed them to live so. What little they traded was for small luxuries they could afford to bring with them on their nomadic trails. But now with enemies all around them and the physical world so changed, the tribe had found themselves in a corner. And so the question now had arisen. To fight or flee?

They needed land for several hundred Shu’halo to be able to hunt and move. Could they find a way for all of them to go safely travel along the mountains to get to their hunting grounds north? Abandon their hunting grounds altogether and head west for new territories and away from the growing conflicts between the Horde and Alliance? Split the clans in different directions? Go to war to reclaim their hunting grounds? Against who? The Quillboar? The Alliance? The Grimtotem? What was the strength of these people? Join the Horde for protection if they would still accept them? They had heard there was a new warchief. And what would these choices do to their traditions and ways of life? They had chosen before to reject the alliance with the Horde for fear of the loss of their Shu’halo ways.

In this time, they turned to Red Earth and Kickfeather. They had seen much more of the world than they. Been to many lands, met the many people and fought many enemies. They looked to the sisters for information to help make clear the viability of their options. The discussion lasted hours, some voices calm, others full of passion. Until all in the Circle had said all they could.

As the last of them made their final remarks, the people’s attention turned to their chief. He had sat quietly listening through the hours of debate and now it was time to hear what he had to say. Graymane continued to sit quietly, his eyes closed, as he absorbed what had been said. The crowd around him waited patiently, for what he would say next would determine their fate. It was now that Red Earth stood.

“Greatfather, I have kept my silence because I know my place here is no more than one of honor. But I hope you will allow me my time to share my words.”

Before now she had shared no more than facts to answer their questions. But after hearing all they had discussed she now felt the need to submit her voice. Graymane’s eyes opened to consider her. Then with a nod allowed her continue.

“I know my place is not among the tribe. But I am still one of your children, and the fate of the Swifthorn is as dear to me as my own life. What happens to you also happens to me, no matter how much distance is between us.

“I do not think war would help the Swifthorn. Especially against the Alliance. I have chosen that path, but I have done so with knowledge. And even then, I will admit to having my doubts of the effectiveness of such a war. But I do what in my heart I feel is right. While I do not question the strength of your warriors, the Alliance ways of war are very foreign to you. And my fear is that your ignorance would mean more sorrow than success. War has never been the strongest path of the Swifthorn. Knowledge and history has always been your greatest strength. It is what has allowed you to thrive for generations. It is the thing which you fear the most to lose.

“I have been around the world, seen many things, fought many wars and broken bread with new people. I have done all this and learned from the many people of this world. Their ways are different than ours, it is true. But I ask, do you think these things I have learned have made me forget all that you have taught me? Have I put aside the teachings of Dark Sky, my father? Have I shown disrespect of our traditions? I follow the path Por Ah has set before me, carrying everything that is who I am wherever I go. I am your child as much as I am Por Ah’s.

“I do not ask you to reconsider joining the Horde. The Horde is not the place for the Swifthorn. They would welcome you with open arms, but not for reasons which would be of true benefit to the heart of this tribe. But what I said many years back, I still believe. That you cannot and should not hide from the world. The connection this tribe has to Por Ah and her Balance is strong. And I do not think it will be lost by associating with those accepting change. But I do think it will be lost if you do not come to know change. You cannot live in ignorance of the world if you wish to survive in it.

“Among the Horde lands, Mulgore is a safe place for our people to thrive as we see fit. Though the new Shu’halo nation are in close association with the Horde, I do not think they would deny the Swifthorn in Mulgore because you do not accept the same treaty. I know you have shied away from those lands because of this, but you should not. You are Shu’halo and have born no ill will to any other honorable tribe or their allies. Mulgore would give you good hunting and by way of mountain passes might also give you access to the old ones in the north. It would reconnect you more strongly with the rest of our Brethren. I also believe the Shu’halo nation could use the strength of the Swifthorn to remain true to Por Ah.”

She finished with a bow to Chief Graymane and immediately the comment of others rose up to debate her words. But Graymane, with a raise of his hand, beckoned them to be silent and stopped Red Earth from retaking her seat by the fire.

“We thank you for your words. And we will consider them,” he said. “But now you must take leave of us as we decide what is best for all. You must attend to why you have been called here. Jumping Stone waits for you by the lake. It is he who sent for you.”

Red Earth was taken slightly aback by this. She was eager to know what Graymane would decide. But she did what she must, made one last bow of farewell to the council and took her leave, her curiosity growing as she walked to meet the child shaman by the lake.

She found Jumping Stone wading among the tall grasses of the lake’s shallows, carefully moving the reeds before him as he searched for something in the water.

“Did you lose something?” she asked him as she found a place to sit upon an outcrop of rock above him.

“I’m looking for a turtle,” the boy replied, not looking up from his task.

Red Earth scanned the area. “Over there.”

Looking up to see where she pointed, Jumping Stone waded over and examined the two turtles basking in the setting sun upon a rotting log. He shook his head in disappointment.

“No, I’m looking for one I’ve seen before.” He pointed to his forehead. “He has a blue spot right here. I’ve seen him here the last three days.”

Jumping Stone turned around in the water where he stood, craning his neck in search of his turtle and deciding which way to go next. But after a time, he slumped his shoulders and let out a defeated sigh.

“Mmm, I’m sorry, Brother. Maybe I scared him off.”

“Maybe. He wasn’t expecting you,” Jumping Stone replied very matter of factly as he made his way back to shore.

Climbing the rock to join Red Earth, he stomped his hooves and shook his wet and dripping legs. He couldn’t help but laugh at Red Earth’s cry of protest as she leaned away, turning her face away to protect it from getting slopped with water. She reached back to try and grab him but he easily avoided her attempts and only laughed harder.

“Por Ah, is this any way to treat a respected Elder?!” she warned, only half serious.

“You don’t like being treated like an Elder,” he remarked, grabbing her by the neck and swinging around to fall in her lap. He lay there across her legs, his head tilted back and stared up at the sky. For a boy who only saw her a few days a year, he knew her well, she thought to herself.

She clicked her tongue in mock annoyance as she neatened his leathers and pushed his wet feet away from her. But she continued to let him lie there for awhile in silence, leaning back on her hands and looking up to watch the clouds along with him.

“They keep telling me to be brave,” he then said after awhile. Red Earth looked down at him, her brow raised up in curiosity. She could see he had clenched his teeth and his eyes were beginning to glisten in the reddening light of the sunset. “Mama tries not to cry. But I hear her when she thinks I’m asleep. I’m trying to be brave. . . . but. . . .

“. . . . I miss him too.”

Red Earth took a hold of the boy’s hand and squeezed it hard as his tears rolled silently back into his mane.

He had cried for just a short while before sitting himself up and wiping his face clean. She was a “stranger”, not one of the tribe anymore, at least in name. And so it gave Jumping Stone permission to let down his guard. But he did not cry long. Because although Red Earth had been exiled from the tribe in name, he knew she still carried in her heart and mind all the ways of the Swifthorn. She knew his public display of grief was not acceptable among the tribe after the first days of death.

Jumping Stone had crawled away from Red Earth’s lap. He now lay on his belly, leaning over the edge of the outcropping and looking down at the water below, perhaps searching for his turtle friend once more.

“Greatfather says it was you who sent for me, not the tribe.”

He nodded, not turning to look at her as he continued to scan the shallows. “There’s a lot of warring,” he said after awhile.

“Indeed. Many different people and different forces. You know about some of this already, yes?”

He nodded again. “The guardian wants to eat what he used to guard. And two snakes came out of the water to eat what they can before he does.”

“Before he does?” asked Red Earth, a touch concerned.

Jumping Stone shrugged, unsure of the words. He pushed himself up, turning to sit on his haunches and look Red Earth directly in the eye. “Do you like to fight?”

She was surprised for a moment by the question. But she gave him the best answer she could. “I go where my Path takes me.”

“But are you? Following your Path? Are you happy?”

Red Earth looked into Jumping Stone’s eyes now, searching. The way he spoke those words were uncannily similar to her father. But these were the eyes of a curious child she was looking at, not a sage old wise man. His next words made it seem as if the boy knew exactly what she was thinking.

“He says you haven’t been listening because the wars keep you too busy.”

“Does he want to know if I’m happy?” Jumping Stone shrugged at this as he turned away from her and started collecting stones from the ground. “He is right. I have been busy. Many things on my mind.”

‘He’ was Red Earth’s father, Dark Sky, the last Elder Shaman of the Blackhide. He had passed quietly in the night several years back, not long after she had left for her journeys away from the tribe. His passing had been hard for her personally. She had loved and revered him very much. He had taught her so much and had been willing to break tradition, entrusting her the ways of the Blackhide shaman when he could see that she bore the gifts despite the red color of her fur. It had also been a loss for the tribe as a whole as well. The twins, Two Cloud and Jumping Stone, were still toddlers when he had died, leaving a hole in tribal tradition without a proper shaman and a teacher for the two boys. Fate was not on Red Earth’s side to return to the tribe to teach them, exiled upon his death, her Path and visions lead her away from them.

Learning of the loss, the revered Skychasers of Thunder Bluff offered to send one of their own to teach the boys the shamanistic ways. Their aid was greatly appreciated and accepted, but for the Swifthorn it was still lacking. Tradition and teachings passed along by the Blackhides for generations had been lost with Dark Sky’s death. It was a loss the tribe would have to grudgingly accept.

But then a few years later, the twins started speaking of ‘the Night Man’. A Spirit that spoke to them in their dreams. He would tell them stories. And when asked to retell the tales, it became obvious they were old teachings of the Blackhide family. From this, it did not take long to figure out it was one of the Ancestors visiting them. And then not very long after that the two young boys started calling him by his true name, Dark Sky. Since then, it was accepted that the Swifthorn traditions would not be lost, the Elder shaman had found his way to the land of the Ancestors and from there could teach the children through their dreams. So strong was Jumping Stone’s connection to this spirit that in time he was even able to see the deceased sage while awake.

“He has a message for you, but you haven’t been listening lately,” Jumping Stone repeated. “So he told me the message so I could tell you. He said I should know it too anyway.”

“What is this message?”

“He says I should show it to you. But. . . .I don’t know how to do that. Elder Skychaser hasn’t taught me, he thinks I’m too young still. But Greatfather Dark Sky wants me to SHOW you. Not tell. SHOW. You will show me how, maybe? I think that’s what he wants. He wants you to teach me how.”

Red Earth smiled and nodded. Of course, she would teach him. Not just to know what the message was, but the very idea of sharing her father’s teachings to his predecessor just filled her with happiness. Jumping Stone smiled back brightly. Standing before her, he bowed. He reached for her hand and lifted it to his forehead, receiving her blessing as a revered Walker.

“It won’t look straight to you. He likes to tell them like stories because I’m little,” he warned. She told him not to worry, it was her father, she knew how he hides in stories. He then pointed to the ground. While they had been talking, Jumping Stone had taken the stones he had collected and placed them on the ground to encircle Red Earth, the largest rocks placed at the four cardinal points. Eagerly, he asked, “Did I do it right?”

“Almost,” Red Earth replied with another smile. “You will need to make one for yourself before me.”

Jumping Stone quickly returned to gathering more.

The child shaman and his new teacher now sat facing each other, each within their own circle of stones. Red Earth faced Jumping Stone with her back to the setting sun, her long shadow blanketing the boy. Between them was the point where their two stone circles joined and at that point, Red Earth had placed a large clay bowl surrounded by other items they had both gathered. Most of them were herbs, both fresh and dried.

“In his life, this was one of Dark Sky’s strength, knowledge of the plants and trees. The magics they hold and how to use them. In the time before the Peoples walked the earth, it was first the plants with which she covered her creations. They are closer to her than we are. And with their help we can be brought closer to all things.”

She placed a tied bundle of sweetgrass onto the charcoal sitting in the bowl before them. With the snap of her fingers, she called small sparks of flame which dropped down into the bowl and began to dance around the charcoal. Red Earth then proceeded to take measures of her herbs into her hand, allowing Jumping Grass to see each before tossing them into the smoking heat.

“Ambercorn to call the Spirits. Briarthorn to tear open the veil. Peacebloom to smooth the way. Black lotus to free the truth. And a touch of earth to remind us our place.”

All these she sprinkled into the bowl and with a fan of three feathers fed the burning mix. As it grew thicker and rose higher, she wafted the curling smoke towards Jumping Stone and herself. She took a deep breath of it and encouraged Jumping Stone to do the same. Lifting the bowl to the sky, she offered a prayer to the Ancestors as see also moved the rocks between them to open the joined circles of stone between them. She replaced the bowl between them. Reaching out to Jumping Stone, she took his hands in hers and held them over the bowl.

“If it is too much for you, do not be afraid to let go and come back,” she advised.

Jumping Stone nodded. She could see in his eyes that he could see the veil opening. With a nod herself, she took another deep breath of the aromatic curls. The boy followed suit and with that, Red Earth lifted her head up and began to sing. The reddening world of the setting sun slowly melted away with the thumping rhythm of her words.

If there was one thing Kickfeather was not, it was quiet. She was normally brash, blunt, inquisitive, expressive. But after the couple of weeks visiting home, the flight back to Thunder Bluff was a silent one. Red Earth was saying nothing and neither was she.

Despite the troubling reasons for returning to the tribe, the visit had been a good one. Away from her home so much these past several years, it was a privilege to have been able to be among the tribe now as they tried to make such important decisions in such concerning times. It was good to be able to let her voice be heard at council and be treated with the respect of a mature member of the tribe. She had left them just as she had turned of age to trail after Red Earth and so had not had such chances being away. It was good to have been able to be there not long after Two Clouds death, so that she could share in their grief. And it was good to simply be among her family and friends, share hunts and stories, help them build and prepare for what might lay ahead depending on Chief Greymane’s final decision. It was good to be home. She missed it. And she was well aware how lucky she was to have a tribe to go home to.

This did not mean she regretted leaving the tribe to follow her sister out into the world. The years away from home had taught her things that staying with the tribe never would have. She was sure it also had helped her become such a mature person much quicker than if she’d stayed home. She was still what some considered outlandish. And she knew full well she still did stupid things because she leapt before she thought. But had she not been so stupid and followed her sister to the world unknown because she was so worried Red Earth could not take care of herself, she would have not been able to help her tribe now in the ways that she did.

Red Earth had not really needed her help. She had been scared and unsure to leave home when she was told to. And like Kickfeather was born with a heart of fire. Or so their father had said. Kick’s heart got her into a lot of trouble, so she had every right to be concerned about her sister’s. But Red Earth was also very much her father’s daughter. He had infused his patience and teachings into his favored daughter very well. And his teachings had made Red Earth quite capable of taking care of herself in the big, scary world.

If Kickfeather had any sense to be jealous, she probably could be knowing that their father had given Red Earth the tools to temper her flame. But envy was not her strongest fault. Being impetuous was greater. Knowing this, she was trying very hard not to be now. Because ever since Red Earth had spent the evening with Jumping Stone by the lake in ritual, she had been different. She didn’t know if others would see it, but Kickfeather could see it. She had the same look that her father got, that Red Earth used to get back before she felt the need to make the world her responsibility. That look she figured all shaman got when they were seeing things other people didn’t see.

Whatever this thing was that was on Red Earth’s mind, Kickfeather knew you just didn’t get in the way of it. And pushing it, which was what she really wanted to do now, might just make a stubborn shaman more stubborn. And visions were something she knew her sister was stubborn about. Red Earth might be able to take care of herself, but it still didn’t mean Kickfeather was going to stop keeping an eye on her. And she wasn’t about to push her away by being loud.

Not much was said to Red Earth after the council meeting concerning the fate of the tribe. Aside from Kickfeather informing her that Graymane had determined they have a little more time before the final decision was made. It meant that for the time being more would be discussed between some of the elders and until then it was business as usual among the tribe. Curious to know. Red Earth thought to stay awhile with the tribe. This pleased her sister immensely and together they enjoyed the company of their mother and the simplicity of village life for a little while. And Red Earth could spend a little more time with Jumping Stone talking of the vision they shared. But after several days with still no word, Red Earth felt they had waited long enough, knowing she had left many things unfinished to come home. When the chief of the Swifthorn was ready, word would get to them. And after spending her time with the young shaman, she also had other things on her mind. As they flew back to Thunder Bluff, certain words Jumping Stone had said weighed heavy upon her mind.

You haven’t been listening lately.

These words were true. She had not been taking the time to seek the Ancestors for awhile now. The world had drawn her attention away from honoring them, from taking the time to see if they needed her. And so they had to send a boy to get her attention.

The sun was beginning to set when they arrived back in Thunder Bluff. As soon as they arrived at the lodge, she was receiving news of the days past. An old message delivered to her by the AAMS informed her that Faithe, the human priest that had been stolen from them, had been found and a rescue mission was being planned. The messenger who delivered it said that it was outdated. Red Earth was relieved to hear that Faithe had been rescued and was safely back with her people. Perhaps now, some of the mistaken ideas about her and her brethren would be cleared up. When asked by the messenger if she wished to relay a return, Red Earth politely declined. She would send message as soon as she found the time and officially the Ishnu Por Ah were still boycotting their services.

But now she had her other business to deal with. So bidding the messenger a quick farewell, she entered the lodge and started gathering her things, her pipe, her medicine bags. She could feel their whispers now that they had gotten her attention. They were like that person in a crowd you could just barely see in the corner of your eye weaving through the sea of people towards you and all you merely had to do was turn your head to know who they were. And now, the time when An’she and Mu’sha could both be seen in the sky, was one of the best times to turn and look upon the faces of the Ancestors and commune with them.


“There was something different,” Jumping Stone had told her a few days after they had shared the vision. “I didn’t remember right away, but I do now. The kodo. They weren’t in the dreams before. Do you know what they mean?”

The boy had looked a little worried when he told her this, not sure if his delay in remembering had been a mistake. She had given him a reassuring pat on the back to comfort him.

“Yes, I know what it is,” she told him. “But it is for me to worry about now.”


The kodo in the dream were the message for her and now she would see what they had to say to her.