Duck Lake blue heron

his tail thumped, the action of an annoyed cat.

sun eater listened. she was saatsine. she had hunted with him. the chieftain bore respect for her words, but no other questioned him, and thus he found less tolerance inside him.

through her story he found little similarity. the lesson she wished to impart was one reflective, had he been one to do so.

but at a certain moment, sun eater rose and turned sharply toward her. the words had become a lecture, and he was reminded too starkly of red leaf, how she had humiliated him before moontide. "i am not forever," he said sharply; listen to me edging his tone. "them? forever. not put power in one heart. put power in many."

no. she should not question him. she did not know. it still interested sun eater at all that she had; a new challenge to taste among the wolves who heeded his skill and his voice.

"this saatsine. not rise."

he did not dismiss her nor himself; he let go the moment of irritation and beckoned to the caribou. "and this hide? yours, red-paint-woman." for her effort. 

for the only mouth who questioned, save his son.

proudly he turned away and trotted back toward the woodland camp, gnashing teeth once at a straggling animal.