WARNING: This fictional story contains sexual accounts between men and
              boys, boys with boys AND IS UNSUITABLE FOR MINORS UNDER THE
              AGE OF TWENTY-ONE. You should know whether you want to be
              reading this or not!
                                                                         5/99
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   WILLOW-BIRD-WARRIOR-6                       "Willow Bird, Warrior, part 6"
   (Part #6)                                   Copyright 1999 by Vince Water
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   *                                                                         *
   *                         "Willow Bird, Warrior"                          *
                                   - part 6 -

      Five warriors on horses are rushing towards us. Their faces are painted
   in an expectation of a fruitful warpath. My brother has already been
   claimed by their violence! I alone face the hoard. The war leader gestures
   for his men to hold back so that he can claim first coup against me. I see
   his bright eyes for the prize: my scalp! He prepares his bladed hand weapon
   to strike me down.

      "No... Stop! STOP!" shouts the boy.

      I'm forced to turn away from the charging warrior when my boy struggles
   free of my arms. What is he doing?! I dive onto the foolish youth to avoid
   the blade's curving path reaching down for us. My desperate act leaves my
   back open to an easy attack.

      I grip the boy in my arms. This is our last moment on our Mother so I
   peer into the youth's eyes to ask his forgiveness. I'm denied it when he
   looks past me to the hungry warrior about to eat us. There's no horror in
   his brown eyes though; recognition? Hope fills my breast when I don't feel
   the landing of the warrior's weapon upon me.

      After several heartbeats, I dare to look up. The war leader has dropped
   down from his horse with empty hands reaching out to us. No fierceness or
   anger on his painted face. I quickly show that my hands are empty in a
   return peace gesture yet the man's eyes aren't on me - he stares at the
   boy instead. I see recognition in them.

      The other warriors yelp with gladness. I watch the boy get to his feet
   and leap into the man's outstretching arms. Yes. He has found his father.
   My brief surge of happiness for them is drowned out by my fear for my
   brother! I crouch to the ground in a submissive pose with outstretching
   hands so that I can try making my way to him.

      "Let him pass," commands the war leader.

      I spring to Second Bird's side. Blood mats the hair behind his right ear
   but my fingers only find a hard lump there; no skull hole. I gently lift my
   brother from the ground. My ear presses against him mouth. Yes. I hear his
   breaths! Three of the warriors dismount and come to surround me; they
   aren't threatening. I look down into my brother's sleeping face and pray
   that he will live: "Oh, Wah-Conda... Don't let me lose him!" I plead.

      There's a gasp from one of the men. He turns away to fetch something
   from his horse. It's a water skin. I follow his advance through teary eyes
   and feel confusion. Why is he trying to help us?

      "I want to give him water," asks the warrior.

      There's no sign of menace coming from the other warriors standing guard
   over us. I'm powerless to do anything besides allow his approach. The
   single-feathered man drops to his knees and opens the skin's spout. His
   hand spills its water onto my brother's face. It doesn't waken him. I angle
   my head sideways to capture some of its precious flow into my mouth. A gulp
   is taken before I hold a mouthful. This I bring down to the sleeping brave
   in my arms. Our mouths come together.

      My tongue parts his lips so that I can push water past them. With my
   fingers, I trigger Second Bird's swallowing reflex and am relieved when it
   works. Big Horn had taught me that trick. I don't risk another swallow to
   allow my brother to breathe.

      "Who are you?" I ask the warrior kneeling close at my side. This man
   had been the one to strike his stone tomahawk against Second Bird. Instead
   of seeking my brother's scalp, he reveals great shame.

      "I was his friend once."

      Hope rises in my breast when an understanding fills me. I turn to look
   for the war leader. He has the boy close to his chest; his face is filled
   with love for his son. The warriors around me show concern for Second Bird.

      "You're of the Split Muddy River Tribe," I announce with confidence. The
   shameful warrior nods his head.

      "Yes. I didn't recognize Second Bird before I struck him," the man
   whispers. "He's been gone from our tribe for so long that I didn't expect
   to see him again. My hand... may have killed him."

      I feel my heart going out to this warrior yet I hold my brother closer
   with anger and growing fear. Second Bird is safe with these men but I'm
   not from their tribe. What will they do with me?

      "Who are you?" asks another warrior.

      I turn to read this man's eyes. He shows curiosity. The time has come to
   reveal myself so I answer, "I'm Willow Bird from the Kalinlepi People who
   were once a part of your own. This is my brother."

      The warrior's eyes show acceptance for my words until he hears me claim
   kindredship to Second Bird. So... his true birth rite wasn't known by his
   People. The single-feathered warrior also reveals his disbelief to my
   claim. I turn away from their stares to hold my brother's head close to my
   own. 'Please! stay with me longer on our Mother!'

      I hear commands coming from the war leader to his men. Something about
   erecting a sky shelter and making camp. A mounted warrior kicks his horse
   to scout out the area while the three men on foot go about their assigned
   tasks. Mine is simple. I hold my dear brother close while praying for his
   life.

      My name is called. I turn to the man who had tried to kill me. In his
   right arm is his son. There's a dull look in the boy's eyes that I've often
   seen before. Why does the youth seek refuge within himself? He's safe in
   his father's arms!

      "Is Second Bird well?" asks the war leader.

      I shrug my shoulders while studying the boy. His brown eyes reveal
   sadness when looking down at my brother. I'm sad too.

      "I'm called Stands Tall," announces the war leader with pride. "This is
   my son, Running Wolf who I've been searching for. How did he come into your
   hands?"

      "My brother found him walking with an old woman on the plains," I reply.
   "We believed she was his grandmother."

      "Yes. My wife's mother had taken him from camp six days ago," explains
   Stands Tall. "I do not know why she had done this. Her path was concealed
   so I suspected foul play. My war party has been searching for them so that
   explains why we fell upon you with our anger."

      "We were bringing them back home!" I shout. "Second Bird was tracking
   back the old woman's footsteps since she wouldn't tell us where she had
   come from. We suspected that she was on a death path for herself. Why she
   brought the boy along, I don't know..."

      Stands Tall ponders my words for a moment. When he replies, it's in a
   low voice filled with shame.

      "My son hasn't spoken since his mother's death," the warrior explains.
   "It's as if he followed her in spirit to the Above while his body remained
   here on the earth. I heard his shouts to stop my attack upon you. Why
   won't he speak again?"

      I cradle my brother's head. I'm filled with anger and fear because of my
   brother's condition so it's difficult to speak with Stands Tall for his own
   concerns. I am doing so for Running Wolf.

      Stands Tall notices my silence. He gestures towards a low canopy that
   his men have raised against the sun. I allow the warrior to help me carry
   Second Bird under it. He's lain over a mat. A pile of empty sacks form a
   pillow for his injured head. I allow the war leader to examine my brother.

      "It is a large bump," whispers Stands Tall. "Little blood outside so I
   hope none fills the inside of his skull. An injury like this can be
   recovered from if that is so. We'll know in a few days..."

      "He needs a shaman's healing!"

      "Yes. But we can't risk moving him," the warrior explains. "Our tribe is
   several days away on horseback so we must remain here until he recovers."

      I hear sincerity in the man's voice. He looks over Second Bird with sad
   eyes while clutching the silent youth in his right arm. I will tell him
   what he wants to know.

      "Your son has spoken a few words to me," I explain, "but when asked his
   name, he returns to hiding within himself. Don't utter it! For some reason,
   it invokes great fear in him that he can't endure."

      "Hmm. I understand," says Stands Tall.

      "When did your son stop talking?" I ask.

      The warrior's dark eyes glare at me. There's anger in him. And much
   sadness. When I think the man won't tell me, he lowers his eyes and speaks.

      "My wife was enduring a rough childbirth. It was a terrible scene with
   her crying in pain when my daughter wouldn't come out. I stood outside my
   tipi feeling helpless except to hold my son. We could do nothing but wait
   into the night. At her end, she screamed my son's name. Again and again she
   cried out to Running Wolf but I held him fast. It became quiet. My son
   never spoke again."

      I keep my eyes from the warrior's since his telling was a difficult one.
   It provides me with some understanding for Running Wolf. The boy heard his
   mother's dying wish to see him but he couldn't go. Perhaps he hates his
   father for holding him back. No. I have only to look at the youth resting
   in his father's arms to take back that thought.

      "How did my son come to speak with you?" asks Stands Tall.

      A small fear grips my heart. How can I explain the growing bond between
   his boy and me so that it won't be misunderstood? We loved in a way that's
   held as uncommon by a People. It could bring this warrior's wrath down
   upon me! Something must be said to explain what brought his son out. They
   must be true words since I'm speaking to a war leader and the father to a
   boy that I've come to love.

      "I have no son of my own," I begin. "No squaw will interest me so I
   didn't expect my life's path to hope for one. Your son crossed my path and
   he clung to me. We knew there was something wrong with his grandmother. I
   took care of him and love grew between us..."

      My eyes touch upon the warrior's from time to time so that I can read
   his thoughts to my words. I'm admitting much by them! The man keeps his
   face plain but I notice the tight clenching of his left hand.

      "What happened to the boy's grandmother?" asks Stands Tall.

      I swallow nervously in my throat. "A grass fire was sweeping through the
   plains. I held your son on my horse while Second Bird carried her. As we
   tried to escape the advancing walls of flame, his horse faltered. He tried
   recovering his mount, asking that I carry the old woman with his intention
   to follow us but I knew that his horse was injured. It came down to a
   terrible choice. I chose my brother so we left the old woman to face the
   flames. Somehow, I felt that was what she was looking for on the plains...
   her death. As we raced away, I had turned to look back for her. The squaw
   had her arms raised to embrace what came for her."

      "I understand," the warrior whispers. His grip tightens around his son.

      I look fully into the warrior's eyes. He has tempered his anger with
   compassion for me and my brother. My spirit has been revealed to him. I
   have to look away since it's a difficult thing to endure a man's judgement.

      I rub my fingers over the right side of Second Bird's face. His eyes are
   closed in deep sleep. May it not be forever! I feel tears but keep them
   from falling because of the warrior's presence. The love that I have for my
   brother bursts in my heart.

      "Can you get my son to speak again?"

      I slowly turn to face Stands Tall and nod. The warrior gently brings
   his son into my lap. I look deep into the boy's soft brown eyes. He's
   hiding somewhere in there... My arms hold the naked youth close to my
   breast. I try shaking him awake.

      "Your father wants to know if you're well," I explain to Running Wolf.
   "I know that you can talk... Please?" A long moment passes in silence. I
   feel the boy's dread to something and realized that he won't be uttering a
   sound.

      "You said that he spoke," asks Stands Tall. "What did he say?"

      I continue to bounce the boy over my thigh. My heart bursts from the
   love that I'm feeling for him! This could be our last hug. I remember that
   the warrior has asked me something.

      "He did yesterday," I answer. "The boy was thirsted. I've seen his
   grandmother push water from her mouth into his mouth so I tried that same
   thing. Only, I playfully wiggled my tongue over his. He said, 'That silly!'

      "Hmm. Did he say anything else?"

      I keep my tight embrace of Running Wolf while my eyes stare into the
   warrior's so that he can read me. "No. The boy would giggle at times and
   he mimicked my actions. I taught him how to ride a horse."

      Stands Tall reveals amazement on his face. "If that's so, why is he so
   quiet now?"

      I shake my head to what the warrior asks. "I think your son needs time
   to recover himself. He's remained close to the tragedy of your wife's death
   until his grandmother took him away from the tribe. Being amongst strangers
   may also have brought him out, if briefly."

      I see the man considering my words. He looks down at his son with
   sadness, and at his gesture, I return the boy to him. My chest feels the
   chill of the morning without his soft head against me. I turn to look down
   at my sleeping brother.

      "I hope that he will get well," says Stands Tall. "Our chief's sister
   will be glad to see his safe return home."

      A boldness comes to me. "And what of all our People? Your Split Muddy
   River Tribe should rejoin their Kalinlepi brothers." I see anger flaring in
   Stands Tall's eyes to what I've ventured.

      "That won't happen! Too much bad blood has come between us," the warrior
   explains. "When the vote comes before our chiefs, I will speak against it."

      "What vote? I don't understand your words."

      Stands Tall becomes puzzled. "Aren't you from the Kalinlepi who've come
   to us asking for peace?"

      "I am Kalinlepi, but separated from them when returning from my fasting
   ritual." My eyes widen in understanding. "Are you saying that my People's
   tipis have been struck at your camp?"

      "On the other side of our river," Stands Tall replies. "Their aged chief
   has been conferring with my chiefs to settle the old matter."

      "I've been looking for my lost tribe!" I explain in a rapid of words.
   "My fasting guardian was killed by enemy warriors and when I returned to
   the muddy river my People were gone. During my search for them, I was
   captured. Second Bird was a newly named brave of their People but he helped
   keep me alive until we escaped. He did this because I was his brother."

      "Wait, Willow Bird. Your quick words provide little meaning! Explain."

      I take a deep breath to calm myself. Stands Tall waits until I'm ready
   to speak again. I give the warrior an account of my capture, meeting my
   brother and how we fled to the Painted People's tribe where Crumobia met
   his end. I also tell him that it's our intention to rejoin our two Peoples.
   From the warrior's dark eyes, I can see that he's against it. To soften his
   mood, I change the subject, telling him how we met up with his wife's aged
   mother and his son - that we were returning them to their tribe with the
   hope of getting information about our own People in return. Little did we
   know they were from the very tribe we sought.

      "How can Second Bird be your brother?" asks Stands Tall. "It's true that
   you share a good likeness to him but I know that Bowl Bringer, his mother,
   bore only one son."

      I take a deep breath. "Second Bird was only being raised by your chief's
   sister as a kind of peace offering given him by my Kalinlepi People. He's
   the second son of my father and mother."

      Stands Tall looks down at the sleeping brave. "Your words are sincere,
   Willow Bird so I will try to accept them. Why would your father give up a
   son?"

      "Bowl Bringer, your chief's sister was in need of one," I explain. "You
   say that no more children have been born to her?" I ask suggestingly.

      "No. Her husband was killed during a raid," says Stands Tall, "but there
   have been rumors about Second Bird and a certain Kalinlepi warrior who
   often visited with him when conferring words between our People's chiefs."

      "My father was trying to rejoin our Peoples into one great tribe again!"

      "That is your intention as well?"

      "Yes. And it is shared by my brother," I add.

      Stands Tall releases a long sigh. "There are many warriors who are
   against it. Though blood was spilled in the time of your grandfathers, it
   still taints the hope of peace between us."

      "Why are you against it?" I ask.

      "My father was one of the warriors murdered!"

      I feel the urge to look away from Stands Tall's dark eyes but I endure
   our staring contest. Some boldness returns to me. "There are warriors of
   the Kalinlepi who could say the same thing."

      "Yes. I'm sure. That is why our Peoples will remain split!"

      Finally, I turn away from the warrior's smoldering eyes to look down at
   my brother. He must get well! If our father's dream to reunite our Peoples
   is to have a chance, he must stand at my side with one voice to convince
   everyone that it can be so. Second Bird is of the Split Muddy River Tribe.
   I am of the Kalinlepi Tribe. We are long-lost brother who have rejoined.
   We can be the example.

      "I see the love that you have for your brother, Willow Bird. May I
   suggest that you keep the truth of his birth a secret? As you know, the
   woman who raised him is the sister to a powerful chief of my People..."

      I turn to the war leader as if stung. "Why? Second Bird knows who his
   real mother is and that he's truly of the Kalinlepi!"

      The warrior shrugs his shoulders. "It may serve you better to confer
   first with Bowl Bringer."

      I see the wisdom in Stands Tall's words. A rash declaration of her son's
   identity could shame the woman, causing her powerful brother - a chief of
   the Split Muddy River Tribe to harden his heart against my father's cause.
   I show my understanding by nodding this to the warrior.

      "Let's pray that your brother will awaken," whispers Stands Tall. "It
   would be a great tragedy to lose him so close to home."

      Tears fall to my cheeks at the warrior's words. I hide my weakness from
   him by burying my face in my brother's breast. Stands Tall grips my
   shoulder for a moment before leaving us in peace.

      I listen to the steady beat of my brother's heart. It offers me hope
   that he'll awaken. I'm reminded of Big Horn's head injury and how it
   eventually led him to being overcome by the Trickster's evil spirit. Not my
   brother too! I keep a strong grip of him. My very spirit is pledged to
   keeping him from the darkness.

      I lift my eyes to watch the slow rising of Father Sun over the plains.
   My tears dry in His glowing yellow Head. So warm on my face...

      My body swells with the strength of the wide muddy river. I become cold
   water. From my mouth springs a swift current that flows into my brother's
   to cure his thirst. Our spirits must join!

      I become like the sun: a glowing spirit ball that is me with a tendril
   connecting to another... a young brave. He is his own without need of me.
   Disconnect. My glowing seeks another, Oh how I love him! Join. My energy
   flows like cool water into the very soul of him for healing. It makes us
   one.

      I'm in my brother. I see all that he is and the secret he keeps that
   causes him shame. Understanding comes. When I smile, his burden burns away
   like a dry leaf tossed into the fire. It is no more.

      "Water... I need water," rasps Second Bird.

      I lift my head from the brave's chest to stare at him. Yes. My brother
   has awakened! Too, I have awakened from a dream when looking into Father
   Sun's Face. His glow is fading from my inner Sight but I remember it all.

      A water skin is found on the dirt. I open its spout and bring it to my
   brother's lips. He drinks. A young warrior approaches with a dirt-stained
   face. The man who had struck Second Bird. He kneels at our side with his
   eyes seeking redemption.

      When my brother struggles to sit up, his eyes flutter. A grunt of pain
   comes deep from his throat. "No. Keep still!" I warn him. "Your head is
   injured so you must lie down and rest."

      I notice the warrior's right hand helping me to press down on Second
   Bird's shoulders. He peers at me a moment before lowering his eyes with
   shame. My heart bursts for this young man! I can understand his plight.

      "I'm glad that he has awakened," says the warrior.

      I nod my head. Second Bird has closed his eyes but from his pained
   breaths, I think that he remains awake. He doesn't respond to my voice
   though. My hands release the water skin to the dirt.

      A warm liquid spills onto my hand. There's no break in the water skin's
   lining... Oh! Second Bird is emptying his bladder. I quickly lift his front
   flap and direct his squirting penis to his side. The warrior looks away. A
   pool of my brother's urine soaks into the thirsty ground. When he's done, I
   pull his front flap down.

      I gentle shake Second Bird but he has returned to sleeping. It's with
   sheepish eyes that I turn to the man. My legs feel like pins and needles
   from having them folded under me. I try rising to get blood circulating in
   them again. The warrior notices my distress and helps lift me. I'm unable
   to keep balance on my numb feet so his strong right arm comes around my
   waist to steady me. We make a slow walk from under the canopy.

      "I thank you. What is your name?" I ask.

      "Elk Tail."

      The man half carries me into the light of the afternoon sun. I'm
   surprised by the height of Him - was I dreaming for that long? Though
   Second Bird lies behind me, I know that we'll never be apart because our
   spirits have joined. That was true for Sings-to-the-birds when he was in
   need of my energy. I have brought myself unto another... my brother.

      "Why don't you hate me?" asks Elk Tail in a low voice.

      I turn my head sharply at the young warrior. His eyes are cast down,
   ash covers his face that must have come up from his hand to show mourning.
   I brush my palm over the man's cheeks to clean them. "You have a handsome
   face, Elk Tail. It's not right for it to be dirty."

      The warrior makes a nervous swallow. "I did it to..."

      "I know. Your gesture touches me with the sincerity of how badly you
   feel," I explain. "You followed Stands Tall in the defense of his lost son,
   not recognizing who you struck. Second Bird will recover. The matter is
   behind us."

      Elk Tail nods. He's often looking into my eyes to be assured of my
   sincerity. I feel his tension. To put an end to it, I pound my fist against
   the man's head. He drops to the dirt as if hurt but comes up smiling. He
   grips my shoulder to accept the beginning of our friendship.

      "Can you bring me around camp and introduce me to the other men?" I ask.
   Elk Tail nods. He spies a three-feathered warrior keeping watch and leads
   me towards him.

      The mounted warrior guarding camp is called Swift Scout who is of few
   words. His body was much scarred by the Spear-bearing Warriors who had
   tortured him before he managed to escaped, I'm told. Elk Tail seems wary of
   the man. I try not to stare at the long lines of chest cuts and ugly burns
   that Swift Scout displays. His back reveals an even greater torture.

      There's an interesting sparkle in the warrior's dark eyes. He is bold to
   look down on my body. In lust? His horse bunts against my side and snorts
   angrily at me. I turn to Elk Tail who gestures for us to be greeting the
   other men of his war party. I feel Swift Scout's eyes falling low on my
   hasty retreat...

      Makes Bows is a nice looking two-feathered warrior. He asks about my
   brother and shows much relief (especially for Elk Tail) when hearing that
   he's awakened. I think the two men are close friends. In my presence they
   try not to show it which puzzles me. Elk Tail reveals no sign of being
   Mahyee-na so why does he hide his true feelings for a friend?

      I'm taken to where a brave is tending the horses. He's introduced to me
   as Brings Word, the youngest man in their war party. He has seen to
   Pai-alucia's injuries by applying healing herbs mixed with fat over the
   burns. Grass has been fed to him. I shake the man's hand to show my
   gratitude.

      Brings Word looks over my body as if I were a horse needing his care.
   His hands examine a few burns to my left arm and legs. I shake my head to
   his offer for applying a healing paste on them. I've been enduring the
   pain. The young man clucks with dismay at the sight of my hair. A flint
   knife is taken to it. I squat over the ground when my frizzled tangles are
   cut away. My eyes nearly fill with tears at the sight of my feet being
   covered with black hair clippings. When the deed is done, I stand up with a
   lighter head. My shoulders and back miss the feel of my hair's length over
   them. In the brave's eyes, I must appear like a boy.

      "Willow Bird, you wear much of these blackened lands on your body than
   walking over them," says the brave.

      I smile at the man's accent and unusual use of words. When he opens a
   water skin over my head, I take his meaning. My dusty body relishes the
   shower. The water skin is quickly emptied. I stand up before the two men
   who look upon with new eyes. Elk Tail gestures at my backside.

      "Would you like a flap for that?" he asks.

      I shake my head with a grin but can't bring myself to explain that I'm
   keeping my butt uncovered because I'm Mahyee-na. These men show no interest
   for my male body. Only that one warrior...

      Brings Word makes a silent gesture to his companion behind my back. From
   Elk Tail's grin, I suspect its meaning. The men reveal their embarrassment
   when I notice. I raise my hand in farewell to them before walking away.

      I wander around camp until finding Stands Tall resting by a small fire
   with his son. The war leader silently stares into the flames. I keep my
   eyes from their enticing dance. From time to time, the man glances at his
   silent boy with sadness. His obvious pain makes me feel awkward. I get his
   attention by mentioning that Second Bird has awakened.

      "That is a good sign," explains Stands Tall. "In a few days, Second Bird
   should be well enough to ride. I hope that you aren't angry with Elk Tail
   for his misdeed. He and your brother were close friends once. The warrior
   shows much remorse for having hurt him."

      I note the war leader's concern for one of his men. He thinks I may want
   revenge against Elk Tail for what he's done. "I've told the warrior that he
   was acting on your behalf to rescue your son," I explain. "He didn't
   recognize Second Bird in the heat of battle. The matter is behind us."

      Stands Tall nods with approval. "I hope that Second Bird will be as
   forgiving. After all, it's his head that is hurting."

      "Yes. Elk Tail must make that appeal unto my brother. I don't think it
   will cause any ill will between them. They were once close friends, as
   you've said."

      "So... You can speak with wisdom," remarks the war leader. "Tell me
   Willow Bird, where do you stand on your path in life?"

      I compose myself before answering. The warrior's question could be
   testing me about something or simply shows genuine concern. A judgement
   likely. I face the man squarely to answer him.

      "I am yet a boy until my naming rite. I've undergone fasting to find my
   animal helper but my tribe had moved from their place on the river when I
   returned. Midsummer has long passed. My monedo was to stand at my side to
   initiate me a brave. He is dead. Since searching for my tribe, I've been
   captured and have been forced to kill in my defense. They say that's an
   honorable thing but it leaves me with a bitter feeling in my belly. I have
   found a lost brother. My father lives through us and his sons will carry on
   his great task."

      There's humor in the warrior's dark eyes. "You've had to grow up pretty
   quickly, eh Willow Bird?"

      I nod my head at the man's words but feel offended somehow. I've poured
   my heart out to the warrior; he acts like I've undergone what any boy
   should to find his manhood. I'm about to get to my feet to go check on my
   brother when I see something stirring in Running Wolf's eyes.

      The boy has been listening to what we say. I see intelligent thought in
   his brown eyes so I'll try to draw him out further. My left hand rubs over
   his uncovered feet. I didn't notice him losing his moccasins after our
   flight through the fire. He seems used to wearing foot wear.

      My hand feels the softness of Running Wolf's soles. I playfully tug on
   his ankle as if trying to reclaim this boy for my son. Stands Tall keeps
   his strong hold. I'm glad that this youth will be raised by his real father
   but the fading hope for our bonding pains my heart.

      Running Wolf giggles. My fingers are tickling over his pale feet to draw
   the boy out. He tries reaching down to my feet but I turn away. His hand
   slaps over my butt instead.

      "It stinky!" says Running Wolf. He pinches his nose to the smell.

      "Yours too," I snap in reply. The youth rolls over the ground until his
   little butt is aimed in my direction. He farts. This causes the warrior to
   laugh, mostly from relief. I think he's glad to see his son acting as a
   nine year old should.

      "Running Wolf, that isn't a nice thing to do..." scolds Stands Tall.

      I feel a warning tremor go through me at the man's words. The boy reacts
   to hearing his name by lying still. He no longer giggles. When I check on
   his eyes, I see no life in them.

      "What you said is true," whispers Stands Tall. He collects the limp boy
   into his arms to hug him close. I see regret in the warrior's sad eyes for
   his son.

      My eyes lift up to Him in prayer. "Oh Father! Please guide us to what
   can be done to heal this little boy..." When my eyes burn from the sun,
   I turn away while keeping my ears open. Nothing. I'm given no visions or
   whispered words of advice.

      I feel the eyes of Stands Tall upon me. He stares as if for the first
   time to make some new determination about me. It makes me uncomfortable.

      "Were you Shown anything?" the man asks.

      I slowly shake my head. Does he mock me? This warrior must see me as a
   boy who's been through a lot of life lately. He doesn't know my heart. No
   trust earned between us except a measure of gratitude for having returned
   him his son. I have nothing to pass onto this troubled man from our Father.
   There's Power in me but nothing for his little boy.

      My eyes wander to the yellow flames. I'm half expecting them to be
   whispering to me but only the low sigh of burning sticks fills my ears. It
   brings me a measure of relief. I don't want to act strangely before this
   warrior. Fire Speaking is not for strangers to witness.

      Stands Tall reaches for a long pouch hanging from the side of his body.
   He unties the small leather thongs. I'm curious to see what it holds. A
   clay pipe is removed along with a small deerskin pouch. He reaches into it
   for a pinch of tobacco. He pushes the dry strands into the pipe's bowl and
   uses a burning stick from the fire to light it. A few puffs come from the
   man's mouth before he offers the pipe to me.

      I'm surprised that the warrior lets me smoke. Perhaps he doesn't
   consider me a mere boy as I had thought. I clasp the long wooden stem,
   bringing it to my mouth. A long draw of smoke is taken into my lungs. In
   the next moment, I'm forced to cough. I expect the man to laugh but he
   keeps still.

      I've seen warriors smoking with our chief in his tipi when conducting a
   council. Tobacco is rare and isn't used casually. Stands Tall honors me by
   allowing me smoke from his pipe. I try another puff. My lungs are expecting
   the strong air so I'm careful not to cough. I gently release the smoke from
   my lungs with pride. Another long puff is taken before the warrior's hands
   gently take back his pipe.

      There's a smile on Stands Tall's face when he smokes. The man is more
   use to it, drawing puff after puff. His clay pipe is passed back to me
   eventually. I smoke it with care. No coughing.

      My eyes begin noticing how bright the afternoon is. A slight buzzing
   fills my head - it's a pleasant sensation. When I think that I've had
   enough, I return the pipe so that the warrior can finish smoking from it.

      A power has filled me from smoking. I feel an excitement that centers
   behind my eyes. Stands Tall puffs until all the tobacco has been burned. He
   closes his eyes while holding the dark bowl in his right hand. I look down
   at it. The pipe is shaped from black clay; not red stone as I've usually
   seen them made. It's a strange animal/man figure with his tiny arms wrapped
   around his belly. A long wooden stem fits into the base of the figure.

      Stands Tall turns the pipe carefully in his hands to tap out the ash. He
   blows through the long hollow stem to clear the bowl. With reverence, it's
   returned to the long pouch hanging from the man's body. I close my eyes a
   moment to relish the tobacco taste in my mouth and the power it has brought
   me. A nice buzz.

      Running Wolf silently stares into the flames. His brown eyes look dull,
   bringing me sadness. I want to reach out to the boy and awaken his spirit!
   I open my very being to find the youth. Words come from my mouth that
   surprise me for their boldness: "You've hurt your son. By preventing him
   from going to his mother's side before she died, he seeks her in the Above!
   His spirit tries flying up to her but his body remains on our Mother."

      I force my mouth shut. There's a long silence following my words so I
   dare to look into the warrior's eyes. His face is plain of emotion. There's
   more needing to be said like the overfilling of one's mouth with water. I
   feel like I'm going to burst! My eyes return to the dancing flames.

      "I know that you love your son, Stands Tall. It's kept deep in your
   heart to be released only when you receive son's forgiveness. And after
   you've forgiven yourself... Tell the boy that you've let your wife go!
   Then, he can stop looking for her."

      I hear the warrior grinding his teeth. He gets up from the ground while
   carrying his son tightly in his right arm. The man turns from me to walk
   away in silence. I watch them go. A part of me is scared by his reaction
   but I know that the words I spoke were true.

      I begin to regret opening my heart to Stands Tall. He had let me smoke
   from his pipe as an equal. What possessed me to say what I did? Were they
   even my words, I begin to wonder?

      I get to my feet and return to the low canopy where Second Bird lies.
   He makes a soft breathing sound through his nose so I know that he's
   sleeping. My head feels weary. I rest my face over my brother's breast so
   that I can sleep.


      I'm awakened by a strong squeezing of my hand. Second Bird begs me to
   lift my heavy head from his chest so that he can drink water. I search for
   the leather skin. Father Sun has fallen from His sky so I have to feel over
   the ground for it. The skin is half filled. To prevent my brother from
   having to lift his pained head, I take water into my mouth to fill his
   mouth from. I'm thankful to that old woman for her trick.

      "Where am I?" asks Second Bird between swallows.

      I drink from the skin to satisfy my own thirst. My hands reach down to
   the brave's shoulders when I tell him about our encounter with the painted
   warriors who turned out to be his kinsmen.

      "Elk Tail struck me?"

      "Yes. That warrior covered his face with white ash to mourn for you,"
   I explain. "I've assured him that I won't seek revenge. How about you?"

      "I'm grateful that he didn't kill me!" replies Second Bird. "I have
   found my tribe. We'll learn where your tribe has gone so that you may be
   returned to your own People."

      "Stands Tall has told me that they're encamped across your river. My
   chief is already in peace talks with your tribe's chiefs."

      "That is a good thing!" says Second Bird.

      "Only talk though," I warn. "Stands Tall is one of the warriors from
   your tribe who will be voting against the rejoining of our Peoples."

      "He has told you this?"

      "Yes. Stands Tall's father was one of the warriors murdered that had led
   to the splitting of our tribe." My brother becomes silent. I shake him
   gently to be assured that he's not gone back to sleep.

      "My head is really hurting me, Willow Bird." Second Bird takes a few
   deep breaths before speaking again. "Ah, it will be a difficult thing to
   convince the Split Muddy River Tribe to rejoin the Kalinlepi."

      "We can be the example, my brother!" I keep my strong grip of Second
   Bird's shoulders. If he gives up hope, our father's cause is lost. Another
   concern comes to me. "Stands Tall has asked that we keep the truth of your
   birth a secret, at least until conferring with Bowl Bringer, your mother."

      "Yes. That is wise," whispers Second Bird. "She is a chief's sister in
   my tribe that could hinder our cause if angered. I knew the truth of my
   birth and some in the tribe suspected that I wasn't born by her but no one
   knew I had come from the 'enemy' tribe, the Kalinlepi... I wonder why
   Stands Tall made this good suggestion to you. I would think he'd want us
   to fail."

      "Stands Tall is a good war leader," I explain. "He can see the many
   paths that a man may follow. In his heart, he hates the Kalinlepi because
   of the murder of his father but I suspect that his head realizes the good
   a rejoining of our tribes would bring to strengthen his People."

      "How can you be sure of Stands Tall to say this?" asks Second Bird.

      My brother's question is a good one. He doesn't realize my gift so I'll
   try to explain it. "Second Bird. I want to tell you something about myself
   that I hope won't alarm you. It's a gift from our Father that I'm learning
   how to use..."

      "What gift?"

      I hear the fear in my brother's voice. A recent event comes to mind that
   will help me to explain it. "Do you remember when you asked how I knew that
   your horse wouldn't bear you to safety from the grass fires?"

      "You said that my horse had injured its leg."

      "I didn't need to see that to know what had to be done to save you," I
   explain. "I was guided by a vision." My brother remains silent to my
   admission. I'll try to explain it to him. "My gift from our Father has
   Shown me events before they came to pass. Always, I struggled to interpret
   their meaning but was unable to act to make a favorable outcome. That was
   until two days ago. I Saw the twin burning suns that had to join as one.
   That meant you and me - brothers coming together."

      "I don't understand," admits Second Bird. His voice is but a whisper.

      "It is a difficult thing to explain. Visions mix symbolic images shaped
   by emotion that cannot be easily put into words. I'm in need of my shaman's
   guidance to help me with what I See but this was the first vision that I
   managed to interpret in time to save someone from death. You, my brother."

      "You've Seen that someone was going to die before... and they did?"

      A painful squeeze is made around my heart. I try holding back tears but
   when in my brother's caring arms, I feel that I'm able to open my heart
   pain to him. My head lowers to his breast. I wet it from my great sadness.

      "I suspected that you were missing someone, Willow Bird."

      My brother shoos me for a long while. When I'm able to find my voice, I
   speak to him of Big Horn. Nothing is held back from Second Bird. "My heart
   is heavy because I had Seen my lover's death but was unable to prevent it."

      "Some things were meant to come about."

      I feel anger at my brother's words. "If that's so, why was I Shown that
   my hand would become empty?"

      "So that you could hold someone else's hand," Second Bird replies.

      I feel my brother gripping my right hand. He is not my lover but I
   welcome his strong grip that promises to never let me go. My tears continue
   to wet his breast. I'm surprised that there's still much pain in me that
   needs to flow out of my heart.

      "You are also missing someone," I tell Second Bird. "My most recent
   vision joined our spirits to heal you and I know of your hidden pain.
   There's no shame for loving someone that you should hate. I'm relieved
   that your warrior wasn't killed by my hand."

      "You knew?" gasps Second Bird.

      "That is an example of my gift." In the darkness, I can feel my
   brother's eyes searching for mine. His grip of my hand is a tight one.

      "You possess a fearful thing, my brother! I'm glad that I don't See
   things as you do."

      "My shaman calls it a gift. He will be teaching me to follow in his
   footsteps to lead our People after he is gone. It has saved you..."

      "Is this how you know of Stands Tall's heart?" asks Second Bird.

      "I've not Seen anything about him except that he sought for his son. We
   have talked. I listened to his words and was able to peer into his heart."

      "You must be careful, Willow Bird. A war leader knows when to lie if
   it's to his benefit."

      "Yes. I know that. Stands Tall is an honorable man and he has spoken no
   lies to me. He's indebted to us for returning his lost son back to him. I
   am also helping the man to bring Running Wolf out of himself."

      "Ah. I remember a boy named Running Wolf," says Second Bird. "He was a
   busy six-year-old who liked playing mean tricks. It makes me sad to see
   this youth frail and lifeless now. What can you do to help him?"

      "I've told Stands Tall what his son fears - the uttering of the boy's
   name. Both father and son must also forgive each other and allow a wife
   and a mother to go Above."

      "I don't understand."

      "Stands Tall does. My words have troubled him but I think the warrior
   will know what to do."

      "Enough talk," begs Second Bird. "My head is feeling very weary..."

      "Sleep, my brother. I will keep you safe." The brave yawns and makes
   slow breaths through his nose. I lay my head over his breast to rest but
   sleep is kept from me for a long while.


      Morning arrives with the stirring of Stands Tall's men. They eat
   together with low words spoken between themselves. The war leader has his
   back turned to me. I hear the mention of needing to fill water skins. Swift
   Scout volunteers. He ties the empty flasks to his brown mare and off he
   goes into the burned plains. My stomach rumbles with hunger. I'm glad to
   see Elk Tail walking towards us with his hand grasping a food pouch.

      "Smoked venison," offers Elk Tail.

      "I thank you! It's been several moons since last I've tasted the food of
   my People," I explain. "The tribes that I've encountered eat other animals
   that can be strange tasting. That was true of the Painted People. Have you
   seen their tamed wooly animals of curly white hair that they call 'sheep'?"

      "No. I've not had the opportunity to travel abroad," Elk Tail admits.
   "The only tribes I've encountered were in battle."

      "That is sad. Anger is easy to express between strangers but it leads to
   more misunderstanding, hatred and woe. Another People from your own can
   show you different things, clever ways to live on the land and to see good
   in each other."

      "That may be so, Willow Bird but often we're shown the bad in men."

      "Yes. I was harshly treated by two warriors who captured me. Yet they
   raised my brother into manhood and even initiated him a brave of their
   People. He saved me."

      "Ah, yes. You keep mentioning that Second Bird is your brother... How?"

      I recall Stands Tall's words of advice. What should I reveal to this
   warrior? "I could tell you that we're bonded like brothers to give you the
   impression of having made a solemn blood rite between us since you know
   that his mother, Bowl Bringer bore no other children to make you believe
   that lie. I won't mislead you, my friend. Second Bird and I are of the same
   blood since he was the second son born to my mother and father. He was
   given to your chief's sister as a peace offering between our tribes."

      "Second Bird is Kalinlepi?!"

      I nod my head. There's something troubling in the warrior's eyes so I
   grip his shoulders and press him to reveal it to me.

      "Why would Bowl Bringer want your father's son?" asks Elk Tail.

      "I've been advised by Stands Tall not to reveal the matter until we
   confer with her. Will you keep what I've told you a secret until that time
   when the truth is revealed to all our People?"

      Elk Tail is stunned. Yet he stands up tall when giving his solemn oath.
   "I swear to keep your words about Second Bird hidden in my heart until that
   day all is revealed."

      "I accept your oath, Elk Tail and know not of any others that you've
   broken." My hands fall from the warrior's tense shoulders.

      "You are in favor of rejoining our tribes," asks Elk Tail.

      "That is so. My brother and I have taken up our father's task he left to
   us after his death."

      "Why should our split tribes come back together?"

      I detect no malice in Elk Tail's question; only curiosity. I'll try to
   persuade this warrior to my father's vision. "We were once one great tribe.
   Something bad happened that caused our People to split. A necessary thing
   to break the cycle of murder and revenge yet it weakened us. Both parts
   managed to survive and heal from that old wound. Only when we come back
   together will our tribe become strong enough to stand against our enemies."

      "Is that why the Kalinlepi have come asking for peace?" asks Elk Tail.

      I gather that the warrior believes my People are too weak to protect
   themselves and have come begging for help. That is not so! My anger is kept
   under control. "I was returning from my fasting ritual and discovered that
   my People had gone. Something drove them to leave; whether it's from an
   enemy attack or simply a desire to find new hunting grounds, I don't know."
   A thought strikes me.

      "A Spear-bearing Warrior named Snarling Bear had come to trade with my
   chief recently. He offered a white boy to become my chief's son and he in
   turn was rejoined with his lost sister, the chief's second wife. Strong
   words for peace were made between our Peoples. That warrior was to return
   with his mother so that she could visit with her daughter."

      "Hmm. I've not heard about any peace treaty with the Spear-bearing
   Tribe," says Elk Tail. "They have ever been our enemies!"

      "Yes. My father was taken by them in a raid."

      "Where do you stand with this talk of peace?" asks Elk Tail.

      I lower my eyes from the warrior's since testing is being made of me.
   "They killed my father! Both our Peoples have lost loved ones to the other
   that made for a tightening circle of hatred between us. It never ends. Our
   Father has shown us that a circle is sacred because it represents life; not
   death. Yet men always find a way to turn good to evil..."

      "You speak like a shaman, Willow Bird."

      I'm dumbfounded by Elk Tail's words. Have I really changed from that
   innocent boy I was to a man who is trying to carry the burdens of his
   People upon my slim shoulders?

      "Have you two finished talking so that I can get something to eat?" asks
   Second Bird.

      I glance down at my brother. His eyes are closed but his mouth opens for
   want of a smoked venison stick. Elk Tail silently hands me one from the
   food pouch and I drop it into the brave's mouth. His white teeth clamp
   down on it.

      "Ah, it's been a long time since I've tasted good food!"

      Elk Tail laughs. "Willow Bird has told me the same thing. Tell me, my
   friend... Do you forgive my blow to your head?"

      Second Bird keeps chewing down the jerky stick. His mouth is filled with
   food so he doesn't bring himself to answering the warrior's question. I
   keep my smile from showing. My brother is achieving a small measure of
   revenge on Elk Tail by keeping silent.

      "Water, please!" asks Second Bird.

      Elk Tail fetches the water skin in a rush from the ground and he tears
   off the spout so that he can pour water into my brother's open mouth. I
   can't hold back my giggling any longer. Second Bird also laughs, causing
   the water in his mouth to gurgle. More keeps pouring in.

      "Don't let my brother drown!" I shout to the careless warrior. Elk Tail
   pulls the water skin away. He reveals humorous-looking eyes that proves he
   knows what's going on here.

      A long moment of silence passes with everyone smiling. I'm glad to see
   that Second Bird has forgiven his friend. Relief shows on Elk Tail's face
   mixed in with his happy grin. I'm smiling with relief to see my brother
   recovering from his head blow.

      The sound of a horse entering the camp grabs our attention. It's Swift
   Scout. He drops many filled skins of water into Brings Word's hands. Elk
   Tail leaves to help the young brave. My brother tries sitting up but pain
   shows on his face at the attempt.

      "No! Allow your head injury a few more days to heal," I scold my
   brother. His right hand reaches back for the wound.

      "It's a large bump," the brave whispers.

      "Yes. You're lucky that Elk Tail didn't split your skull in two." I stay
   at Second Bird's side until his tense face softens of pain. His eyes close
   to find relief in sleep.

      I slowly rise from the dirt to get out and stretch my legs. Brings Word
   and Elk Tail are carrying the filled water skins through camp. Swift Scout
   looks down at me from his brown mare.

      "Is Second Bird well?"

      "Yes. He's awakened with a hungry belly," I reply.

      "That's a good sign," answers the warrior. His shining eyes gaze down
   on the half-naked boy. "I've returned with water but our food pouches are
   nearly empty of smoked venison. There's a partially burned buffalo carcass
   laying in the plains. Come with me, Willow Bird. We can strip the animal of
   much-needed meat."

      I nod my head in agreement. It will be good to get away from camp for a
   little while. Swift Scout offers me his arm to help mount his horse. I'm
   surprised that he doesn't have trust enough for me to ride Pai-alucia.
   Don't they know I wouldn't leave my brother behind? The warrior's strong
   arm lifts me over the mare until I'm sitting in front. A swift kick gets
   his horse running through the blackened plains.

      Swift Scout holds me within his right arm as we ride. The wind passing
   by my head feels strange, as if I have no hair. I reach up to feel for it.
   Brings Word has cut my burned lengths back to when I was a boy of twelve.
   It's going to be difficult for me to bear such a youthful appearance. My
   People respect age and proven experience.

      My head lowers in remembrance. Much have I experienced these past
   moons. Even if my body doesn't show it, I have grown up inside. I'm no
   longer that care-free boy whose name I still go by: Willow Bird. I can't
   help but wonder what Big Horn was going to call me when standing at my side
   as monedo to initiate me a brave? He is dead. Midsummer has passed. Only I
   have remained and the experience has made me stronger. I am Willow Bird.
   That name my father had given me I shall keep to the end of my days.

      Swift Scout slows his mount's pace. I look around for the fallen buffalo
   that he had spoken about. All I see are the blackened remains of what were
   vast grasslands. Stark and empty. Why have we slowed down? When I turn my
   head to ask, the warrior keeps his tight grip of my body. He no longer
   needs to be holding me so close with his horse at an easy walk. I feel
   tension from his arms.

      "The land ahead is uneven and riddled with Yap-dog holes," explains
   Swift Scout.

      I nod my head in understanding. Yet something more is going on here. If
   only I could look back to read the man's face, I'd know what. Fear grips my
   heart. Does this warrior mean me harm?

      "I've heard the other men talking... They say that you were captured by
   enemy warriors and that Second Bird, a member of their war party helped you
   to escape. Is this true?"

      "Yes. Second Bird recognized me as one of his People so he turned away
   from the honor of having been named of brave of the Shew-owa. Together, we
   helped each other regain our freedom."

      "Did you kill the warriors?" asks Swift Scout.

      I slowly nod my head. The memory of the deeds remain bitter in my belly.
   I killed one man with my own hands but all the others died in consequence
   to my actions.

      "Your body bears no scars. Tell me, Willow Bird. Were you badly used by
   those men?"

      I gasp from what I think Swift Scout is asking of me. Anger fills my
   breast at his daring. Yet I recall this warrior's badly scarred body and
   his stern demeanor. Whatever I endured, this man must have suffered more.
   I'll tell him what he wants to know. "They didn't kill me outright at my
   capture because they thought I was a boy..." I begin. "Second Bird had also
   been taken by those warriors when he was a boy and used by them as their
   bito-wan-ahee..."

      "Hmm. Why then was Second Bird named a brave of their People?" he asks.

      "He was raised into manhood by those warriors," I reply, "and earned
   their trust and respect. "He didn't think he'd ever see his own People
   again."

      "Until he saw you."

      I nod my head but keep from explaining more. Swift Scout keeps silent.
   We continue to slowly ride through the scorched earth which bears the many
   Yap-dog holes he spoke of. I'm coming to relax in the man's tight arm
   around my chest.

      "Were you told of my capture by the Spear-bearing Warriors?" asks Swift
   Scout.

      My head tries to turn so that I can read this man's face but I'm
   prevented by his strong hold of my body. I answer the warrior's question.
   "Yes. Only that you were badly tortured and that you managed to escape."

      "There are many forms of torture," suggests Swift Scout. "I'm sure that
   my companions kept you from hearing what they suspected I had to endure at
   the hands of lustful 'Spear'-bearing Warriors."

      I gulp nervously in my throat. Yes. It's assumed that a prisoner is
   tortured and sexually demeaned before he's killed. Even a fallen warrior
   on the battlefield is sometimes raped by his enemies to dishonor him.

      "Tell me, Willow Bird. Why have you kept your butt uncovered since
   escaping from those men?"

      Ah. Swift Scout reveals much by his question. I begin to suspect more
   about this tortured warrior and see why our paths have crossed. His good
   question is still upon me. There's no shame in my heart when I tell him the
   meaning to my missing rear flap.

      "I went about my tribe as you see me now. Second Bird has told me that
   your People don't approve of it. Is this true?"

      Swift Scout gasps. "You allow a man..."

      "Yes," I breathe. "Those warriors who captured me only subdued my body
   to their will, not my spirit. There was no shame to my manhood."

      "You are yet to be named a man!" says Swift Scout. "But my honor..."

      "I know. You endured all their tortures and escaped with your life."
   My understanding words silence the warrior. His tight arm around me
   trembles from excitement, not anguish. I know this because there's a bulge
   pressing against my rear end. My loins grow hard in response.

      The land returns to an even footing yet Swift Scout keeps his mare to a
   walk. I don't think he's realized this. Delving into one's thoughts makes
   use of your inner Sight instead of regular eyes. I remain silent to allow
   the man his memory trip.

      "Do you enjoy pleasuring a man?" whispers Swift Scout after the long
   silence.

      "Yes. I'm attracted to those of my sex and allow my body to fulfill male
   needs any way I can." The warrior's right hand falls down my body to let me
   go. Is he rejecting my spirit? No. I feel his seeking fingers under my
   front flap. He grasps the truth of my sexuality.

      When I think the warrior is going to pull on my erection, he withdraws.
   Is the man too shy to embrace male sex? or was he only testing my words to
   see if I was excited? I feel his need pressing against my naked butt yet
   he keeps himself from that pleasure. I'll offer him another.

      Without Swift Scout's arm around me, I'm able to turn over his horse
   until facing him. My eyes go low on his body. This warrior wears a full
   breechclout around his waist yet I can spot his male bulging within. I
   don't look into the man's eyes... My left hand sneaks into his front cloth.

      I find the man's erection. It's a good size with length and a thick skin
   around his throbbing shaft. My hand begins slow pulls over the moist skin.
   When the warrior gasps, my eyes peer up at him. I'm kept from looking into
   his face when I stare at his chest scars instead. They give his body an
   ugly appearance.

      I'm shamed by my reaction. It was to no fault that this proud warrior
   bears the dishonor granted him by our enemies! He endured it and escaped.
   With my right hand, I reach for the front of the man's chest. The healed
   cut wounds and burns feel rough against my palm but they're no longer that
   ugly. It gives Swift Scout a strong, rugged appearance. I'm not afraid to
   offer pleasure to this warrior.

      Swift Scout reaches down to his groin and pulls away the front to his
   breechclout. I'm able to view his struggling manhood within my left hand.
   Below his crop of black groin hair is a nice cock; not scarred as I had
   feared. I pull over his brown foreskin to free his rosy knob. It oozes to
   my fingers. I'm in awe of his manly reach! My butt feels an exciting twinge
   to try experiencing this man's penetration. I know that he could go deep
   through my asshole!

      "Will you kiss it?" asks Swift Scout.

      Without having to read this man's eyes, I know what he wants of me. I
   grip the warrior's thighs. My mouth lowers to his hairy groin. I smell his
   manly musk - a heavy sweat smell mixed with the sweetness of his precum. My
   mouth opens to taste of its oozing. His breaths are but gasps. I know that
   this man is intensely excited to the act I'm about to offer him. My dick
   aches me within my front flap.

      I watch in awe as the man's thick foreskin fully retracts to expose his
   rosy knob. My mouth opens around it. I feel his warm glans pressing against
   my tongue. Stiff and sweetly! In the next moment, a strong hand pulls on
   the back of my head. I'm forced to swallow the warrior's all! He makes big
   stabs into my mouth. My tonsils feel the brunt of his attack. It makes me
   gag. Badly!

      When I try pushing against the warrior's groin, he flexes his whole body
   over the mare's back to keep his thrusts deep. Both of his hands grip my
   head so that I can't escape! I'm savagely used. My teeth scrape around his
   shaft yet the man stays in my mouth. He is intent on feeding me his sperm.

      I hear the warrior's loud groans that drown out my gagging pleas for
   him to stop! I angrily pull at his breechclout. My fingers break the thong
   belt around his waist yet he doesn't end his thrusts. I endure it as I must.

      Swift Scout groans like a bear. There's a strong gush at the back of my
   throat. My swallows are many. I'm barely kept from drowning on his cum! At
   its end, I feel the softening of his cock. He stays in my mouth as we rest.

      "That was good..." breathes Swift Scout. His grip loosens from around
   the boy's head.

      I notice that I'm clutching the man's ass in both hands. Free of the
   warrior's tight grip, my mouth can pull back from his hairy groin. His
   satisfied cock flops down to the horse's back. I watch his thick foreskin
   drawing back its oozing knob within. The salty blandness of his seed is
   sticky in my mouth. I try swallowing it away.

      Swift Scout's gentle hand lifts my face to his. He must notice my fright
   that I'm trying to hide from him. His face reveals male relief. It's an
   expression that I've often seen from my partners.

      The warrior peers closely into my eyes. In the next moment, his lips
   touch mine in a kiss. I'm startled by his show of affection! The man's
   tongue darts into my mouth and swirls. I react by kissing him back. Wetly.

      At its end, I hear Swift Scout gasping for breath. I am too. There's a
   strong familiarity to what we've done - the offering of my act and the
   man's pleasurable acceptance. We've kissed sweetly. I'm drawn into his
   embrace with my head resting on his breast.

      "You are a nice boy..." says Swift Scout.

      I'm rankled by the warrior's words but come to accept them. My shortly
   cut hair and the lack of manly stature makes me so. I'm without a sacred
   bundle, full breechclout, eagle's feather or a brave's name. In a way, I've
   remained the boy, Willow Bird.

      Swift Scout's mare carries us lazily through the scorched plains. I've
   been listening to the warrior's heart. Its beat has calmed from the
   frantic war pace after we had sex. I relax in the man's arms. He keeps me
   safe as if I were his boy.

      "I want to share something with you, Willow Bird. It brings me no shame
   since I know that you'll understand..."

      I nod my head against the warrior's sweaty chest. A kiss is given to his
   left nipple. He strokes my head in return.

      "I've told no one the full truth of how I escaped," begins Swift Scout.
   "I was aided by a boy of the Spear-bearing People only a few years younger
   than yourself. We loved. It was an unexpected thing since I was a proven
   man. Even the Spear-bearing Warriors were most impressed with my show of
   bravery.

      "After days of torture to my body where I endured shallow cuts to my
   chest and coal burns, they tied my hands to a totem in the center of their
   camp one night. They hoped to humiliate me finally. Yet I stood strong when
   a handful of men used me like their squaw...

      "My spirit went untouched by their vileness," continues Swift Scout.
   "The days were spent in further torture of my body and at night, I was
   raped. My body was failing to its wounds and for lack of food and water.
   I would have died if not for that boy who came to me in secret.

      "I only saw him in the deepest part of night. Like a shadow he would
   visit with me, cleaning out my wounds with a gentle hand. I thought the
   youth was sent to try keeping me alive for more torturing so my heart was
   hardened against his kindness. Two nights he came.

      "No one could break my spirit. A final day was spent in scarring the
   rear of my body to prepare me for a death ritual. That night, I was
   attended by many warriors and braves. After their lust was spent, wood was
   piled around me. They let me know I was to be burned come morning.

      "It was an honor granted to me for having kept strong. Though the boy
   brought me secret sustenance, my wounds were making my body weaker and
   susceptible to pain. I feared that! The fire would finally release my
   spirit before my body gave out. Yet that honor was not to be bestowed...

      "That last night in my enemy's camp, the boy came to me when the moon
   had gone to sleep. He fed me and allowed me to drink water from his mouth
   as I hung from the totem. I didn't realize it but we kissed. His thin arms
   embraced me like a lover. His kisses went down my scarred chest to my
   enflamed loins. The boy wanted to drink of them, like you did."

      I lift my head to look into Swift Scout's face. He reveals much by his
   soft eyes and trembling lips. His hand covers my eyes and he holds me
   closer to his breast.

      "I ill-used the boy though. All of my hatred was coming out through the
   only weapon I could wield - my hard dick. I stabbed the youth like a war
   spear. Yet he endured my wrath to bring me to seed. We embraced once more
   with his mouth finding mine. I was surprised by his kiss. It was a tender
   show of his love in spite of what I'd done to him.

      "A guard's approach startled us from it. The boy had to watch his
   tribesman make use of me once more before I was to be burned in the
   morning. It was a most difficult thing to endure for some reason. I could
   feel the youth's anguish for me! He was born of this enemy tribe but I
   recognized that his kindness was done out of love..."

      Swift Scout keeps silent. I feel his struggle to prevent his heaving
   chest from releasing weakness. I'm sure that his eyes are filling with
   tears. Mine are still covered. My heart feels wretched for this man.

      I recall another man's love lost... My brother's. Second Bird was
   captured when a boy and brutally used by Crumobia yet he grew to love him
   as a man. That's what really kept him from trying to escape the Shew-owa to
   rejoin his People. When I was captured, Second Bird had to make a choice.
   He left his warrior lover behind to save me.

      "I know of a man who also grew to love his enemy as you did," I admit.
   "It's not shameful but can be a difficult thing to embrace." Swift Scout
   releases a quick sob. I feel him dropping tears to my head so I remain
   silent until his weakness passes.

      I feel a hand coming down to my front flap. The warrior feels through
   the deerskin cloth for my dick. It's still hard. The man turns his body
   until falling from his horse with me in his arms. There's a startled snort
   coming from the mare to our unexpected dismount. I'm surprised as well.

      A crumpled breechclout falls to Swift Scout's feet. His hand pulls my
   front flap from its belt to bare my body to him. We are standing naked. The
   man peers into my eyes for a moment before turning to pick up the reins to
   his horse. My eyes go to his butt. It's of lighter skin than the rest of
   his tanned body. Curious scars cover each cheek.

      The warrior binds his hands within the leather reins and holds onto his
   horse's neck. His back arches to stick out his butt. An exciting tremor
   runs through my body at what this man seems to be offering me.

      "You've kissed the front of my body," Swift Scout asks. "Kiss my butt."

      I fall to my knees in the dry dirt. My hands reach out to the muscular
   cheeks to take them. My mouth kisses over the sweaty pale skin. Against my
   lips, I feel the rounded scars. They're not random and ugly as the rest
   I've seen on the warrior's chest and back. These scars reveal a pattern.

      I'm being drawn into greater lust by my hungry mouth to consider the
   curious designs. My hands pull the man's cheeks apart so that I can tongue
   deeper into his butt. I find his hole. It is tight to my penetration as
   I've expected. This warrior hasn't given himself to anyone since being
   raped by the Spear-bearing Warriors.

      I hear Swift Scout's moans of pleasure to my tonguing. I spit to his
   hole so that my dick will make an easier fit up his butt. My tongue swirls
   it deep inside. He smells like a man in there! When I withdraw, my teeth
   make gentle bites over both his butt cheeks. He moans loudest from that.

      I get to my feet in a rush. With my left hand, I direct my erection
   through his scarred cheeks to push on his asshole. It slips in. A tight
   heat surrounds the shaft of my hard dick. I'm barely able to contain my
   lust! A final stab gets me all the way inside. My hands reach for the man's
   hips to fuck him good.

      Swift Scout pants against his horse's neck as if in pain. With the
   reins wrapped around his hands, it appears like he's bound; I'm raping the
   warrior. My stabs go deep through the man's ass. I know that my release
   will be a good one! I feel his butt's ringed muscles squeezing around my
   dick. Probably from the pain. I don't think this warrior is experienced
   with pleasuring a man as Big Horn has taught me.

      I pull on the warrior's hips to stab in deep. His hot butthole yields to
   my penetrations. A wonderful thrill for my dick! My balls slap against his
   as we body bump. I'm amazed that such a strong warrior is giving of himself
   to me.

      Swift Scout turns his head back to watch my performance. There's such
   fierceness in the black depths of his eyes - I feel that he'd kill me if
   he could get free of his bonds! I answer his challenge by fucking him
   harder. The man's eyes narrow. Seeing his pain gets my loins to flow.

      I cry out when squirting deep up his ass. The warrior releases a low
   moan of defeat like the fallen buffalo. I'm feeling my greatest pleasure!
   My eyes are but slits. A few more quick stabs gives up all my seed. My wild
   body slows since I'm out of breath.

      I cling to the warrior's back while I rest. As expected, it was a
   tremendous mating! My cum fills this man's butt. A proud accomplishment...
   I yelp out in surprise when feeling a hand around my swollen balls. My sac
   is held against the man's sac and rubbed together in ritual.

      When my balls are released, I push on the warrior's back to separate our
   heated bodies. My dick pops out with a sucking sound. A small squirt of my
   sperm comes from his hole following my withdrawal. Did I shoot in a lot?

      Swift Scout releases his right hand from the leather reins. He turns to
   me with a grin. I don't have to fear his reprisals to what I've done. He
   had freely given me his butt to fuck.

      "You did that well," admits Swift Scout. The warrior holds his aching
   butt with a grimace.

      I bear myself erect with pride; shoulders raised. I follow the warrior's
   eyes down to my dripping dick. It's stained from his butt. The man
   continues his account of how he escaped.

      "After that guard raped me in front of my boy, he was urged by his
   tribesmen to take his turn at dishonoring me. Instead, the youth squatted
   behind my butt to suck out all the sperm my hole had captured. That made
   the guard laugh. When he left us, I offered myself to the boy. He loosened
   the bonds to my hands instead."

      "Why do you think he helped you to escape?" I ask.

      "That is something I ponder over many times without knowing for sure. He
   didn't follow my flight out of camp. I keep wondering if he wanted to be at
   my side... as my lover if he could."

      "He cared for you," I suggest, "and tried to win your love. Perhaps he
   too is pondering over that night of your escape and wondering if he should
   have joined you."

      "Sweet words, Willow Bird. I'll never know but I thank you for stepping
   into that boy's feet a moment so that I could feel what it would have been
   like for him to mount me in love..."

      I reach for the warrior's shoulder and grip it. He lowers his face as if
   embarrassed by something. I turn to fetch our breechclouts from the ground.

      "Let's not wear them yet," suggests Swift Scout. "That fallen buffalo
   will make for bloody knife work."

      The warrior mounts his horse and offers me a hand up. He holds me in his
   right arm. A swift kick gets the mare trotting. In my tight hands are our
   wrapped breechclouts. My dick is still leaking cum to my thigh.

      I snuggle against Swift Scout's body. His scarred chest presses against
   my back in warmth. My butt bounces over his hairy groin. No male growth
   from his loins... My mouth must have satisfied him too well.

      After a short run, Swift Scout pulls his horse to a stop. I spot the
   dead buffalo lying in a heap over the blackened earth. It has been badly
   burned. We dismount. Our breechclouts are tossed into a sack for safe
   keeping. The warrior fetched some empty sacks and offers me a flint blade.

      "Cut past the bad parts," suggests Swift Scout. "There should be ample
   meat for us to return to camp with."

      I get to work along side of the warrior. The scorched hide is cut and
   pulled away to reveal a thick layer of smelly melted fat. Our knifes go
   deeper into the flesh. Upon reaching the inner cavity, we find the organs
   too rotted for use as food.

      "Let's salvage what we can of this carcass," asks Swift Scout. "I didn't
   think this buffalo was that long dead..."

      I think back to the walls of flame. "Second Bird and I came through the
   fire two days ago. This poor beast may have been caught even earlier than
   that."

      The warrior nods in grim understanding. Our bloody work leaves the
   ground piled with ill-smelling flesh and our bodies filthy. It was good
   that we had performed this deed while naked. Our breechclout would have
   been soiled and unusable.

      A small pile of good meat remains to us. Swift Scout wraps it within the
   empty sacks that he ties to the horse's back. I see the mare's eyes roll at
   the smell of death. My hands take hold of her reins in case she spooks. The
   warrior gestures that we walk.

      "Water there," he says. "We can clean ourselves in the stream."

      Swift Scout leads as I follow with his horse in hand. My eyes are often
   looking over the man's butt. I'm able to gather the meaning to the curious
   scars over his pale cheeks. They are six rounded signs of male excitement,
   all leading to his hole. It's no wonder that this warrior keeps his body
   covered with a full breechclout. Anyone spying on his ass would know the
   humiliating scars for what they are.

      The tiny hairs on the back of my neck raise up. There's a menacing cry
   in the wind. Swift Scout points at something in the distance: wolves!

      "They've smelled blood," warns the warrior. "Quick! Let's mount up and
   get out of here!"

      I hear the panic in Swift Scout's voice. When I turn to hold his horse,
   she rears up in fright when hearing the wolves' cry for their prey: us! The
   warrior tries getting over her back. I try shooing the panicking horse but
   to no avail. Swift Scout is thrown hard to the ground. His horse breaks
   free of my hold.

      The pack of hungry wolves are almost upon us. I look down into my hands,
   stunned, at the broken ends of the leather reins with incomprehension. The
   horse got away?

      Swift Scout painfully gets to his feet at my side. Naked. Not even a
   flint blade between us for use in our defense. Like a wind devil, the pack
   of six wolves encircle our position. The warrior stands at my back.

      "Our only weapons are hands and teeth, Willow Bird! They will lunge for
   your neck or belly. Toss them aside. Bite those who pull you down. If we
   put up enough fight, they may chase after the horse or find the fallen
   buffalo!"

      I stretch out my arms in preparation of this fight for our lives. My
   back presses against the warrior's. Our butts touch. I raise my head a
   moment to our Father in a plea to save us before the wolves attack.

      A brown wolf half-lunges at me but at the last moment, turns away. I'm
   surprised that they don't rush us all at once. I notice the blood stains
   and gore over my naked body that had come from dressing the buffalo. Its
   scent must have attracted their hungry attention.

      Behind me, Swift Scout manages to deflect an attack. The wolf rejoins
   his pack as they make an ever tightening circle around where we stand. I
   look each animal in the eye. They snarl at us with gleaming white fangs.
   A lunge at my belly! I throw out my hands to push him away. He manages a
   painful nip of my left arm. First blood has been drawn. I wonder how the
   warrior and I will live through this?!

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   {End file: WILLOW-BIRD-WARRIOR-6  Story continues in: WILLOW-BIRD-WARRIOR-7