Hushed Willows My love, hear my song and cry

Waawaashkeshi had never known the violence of men, though it had been heard through stories of sister's and grandmother's alike. Now she understood their fears, understood the need to look over their shoulders on dark nights and to hide in the midst of their heat. It was a disgusting, uncertain feeling that boiled in her stomach and made her feel ill. It was a sense of powerlessness that she had never before faced.

Her skull met the hard ground that was growing frozen in the winter's ice and snow, and her brain rattled in it's cage. The concious mind faded, and the red heat of blood began to flow from the back of her head.

She could see, and yet she could not move. She was alive, and yet she felt dead.

For a moment she felt clarity, and her mind went to one face. Her most treasured friend. Nasamii..tuuq.. The quiet, broken word slipped from her throat before she fell into an unsettling silence. The only assurance that life had not yet left the fragile body of the sunflower was the rising and falling of her chest.