Redtail Rise This life isn't romantic or free, there's no path to anything that makes any sense

By every account, a child as young as Yakone should not have been in Redtail Rise.  The mountain's edge was steep and footholds were not always steady, but Yakone was no ordinary child.  Most of her life had now been spent as a voyager, whether it was across the varied landscapes of the Teekon wilds or the shores of Meares Island.  She boasted the muscle mass and wear of constant travel, uncanny on her youthful frame.

Mama was somewhere close behind.  Since they had met the white man and his children in the valley, mama remained a ghost on her daughter's heels and a tension had crept into the air.  Yakone was sharp and quick to understand abstract concepts, but this was something she could not grasp.

She wondered if it was because she looked like him, like the man there in the valley.  She didn't remember him, for she had been stolen away at such a tender age that the only thing she felt when she saw him was confusion, because if mama was her mama, then why did she look so much like him?

Her mind worked this over as her eyes locked onto her paws, making sure she had proper grip as she maneuvered the worn paths of the Rise, and when she looked up she realized she was no longer alone.  Mama was nowhere in sight (although she was surely within earshot) but two strangers were and as she instinctively took a step backwards to avoid being noticed she tripped and was sent tumbling down the rocks.