Chapter Three: Gunshot at Sunset

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Chapter Three: Gunshot at Sunset

                “Where have you been?” Gray Skies’ father Wolf Heart questioned as Gray Skies and Bear Claw made their way back into clearing that the tribe called home.

                Their numbers were smaller now and they no longer lived in the cabins they had once been able to call home. They had been reduced to living in teepees in order to be able to disappear that much more quickly should the need arise.

                They would not live on a reservation and most pale skins had no urge to live beside a group of savages and they were willing to kill innocent men, women and children in order to keep the savages away. Who were the true savages?

                Gray tipped his head. “Ask your other son, father. I am sure he would be glad to tell you.”

                “Gray Skies, you cannot continue to risk our people.”

                “I would never risk our people.” Gray Skies countered, feeling his anger grow toward this conversation that they’d had countless times.

                “Our chief feels differently.” Wolf Heart replied sadly as he patted his eldest son’s back. “He wishes to speak to you in his teepee.”

                Gray Skies felt a tremor of unease pass over him. Their people were not a strict people. They lived and worked together for the survival of the tribe. The chief, Big Sky, was more a figure of guidance than a ruler however if Gray Skies angered him enough he could either shun him from the tribe or order him killed.

                His head held high, Gray Skies made his way to the decorated teepee of their chief. He had done no wrong and would not fear this meeting. Deniah was worth any punishment and Gray Skies would not abandon her no matter what his people thought.

                “Come in, Gray Skies.” Big Sky’s voice called out as Gray Skies approached the flap. Gray Skies made his way inside. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the change in light and then fell on the aging chief sitting cross legged on the floor. Big Sky had lived for nearly ninety winters. He had seen the rise and the fall of their people. He had seen many changes to their land. He was blessed and loved by the Great Spirit to have lived so long.

                “Hello, my chief.” Gray Skies greeted him respectfully as he bowed his head.

                Big Sky raised a thin arm and waved his wrinkled, bony hand. “No need to bow, Gray Skies. We are meeting here as two equals. Use my name.”

                Gray Skies nodded as he took a seat on the ground across from the other man and looked into the chiefs sharp brown eyes. Everything else about the man had dulled with age but not his eyes. They still seemed to see and know all.

                Big Sky was silent a moment, simply staring into the small fire burning in the center of the spacious teepee. The sound of children playing and women talking drifted through the deer hide walls. Big Sky sighed as he looked at Gray Skies. “I have been told you have been making trips again to see your white woman with fire hair.”

                “I saw her this morning.” Gray Skies replied with a nod, knowing better than to lie.

                Big Sky tossed his long gray braid over his shoulder and studied Gray Skies carefully. “You understand the danger our people will face if we are found?”

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