Swiftcurrent Creek copper thunder

perhaps it had only been a dream painted by the burning of her body. a lovely dream, but one for which muskrat could no longer wait.

still, she felt a little foolish to have believed the woman from the mountains would come at all.

muskrat devoted herself now to monitoring any changes in her own body. despite her intentions upon leaving the creek for the mountains, the anger she had felt being approached by the creek men had spurred her defiance in other ways, and now there was a great chance she had conceived.

for now, her body remained the same and no illness touched muskrat. she knew enough to comprehend that the personal odor of those pregnant changed early, and took to urinating upstream or in other places of moving water which would wash away any evidence. 

there were only five plants any warrior needed to know, dropped to four if you were a man. but nothing of the swamp grew here, and so muskrat ferreted out black cohosh, saving the plant in three parts: stem, leaf, and root. 

dutifully she drank a bitter decoction of one part or another each morning, and today was no exception. the horrid taste clung to her teeth, her tongue, and muskrat set off to find sweeter fare.