The Savage

Twenty Five

It came back to me in pieces, small bits of sensation that made me aware of my surrounding gradually. I was lying on something soft and warm, instinctively sensing I was low to the ground. Crackles and rustling filtered through the fog of my mind, along with the thick, heavy scent of wood smoke. Was that murmuring, faint whispers of voices nearby? Groaning I tried to force my eyelids open.

"Mamma?" At my ragged croak the voices ceased and I heard movement approach where I lay. Something rough but gentle touched my face, then my neck. Alarm lurched through me at the foreign feel, for I knew the fingers did not belong to anyone in my family. Starting to panic now, I fought my reluctant lids to open, blinking heavily as I tried to focus.

"Mamma...Frank-?"

"Ah-blah kay-lah, Kimimela...you are safe here."

Above me, hovering too close for my liking, was a darkly tanned face frame by long sheets of black hair. His eyes were nearly black, flecked with amber and brown, and seemed kind. Alarm jolted through me, but not powerfully enough to fully drive away the stupor of exhaustion of pain. Staring at him as though I'd never seen another living human before, it took a long moment before recognition came to me.

"Stalking Elk?" My lips dry as sun beaten leather, mouth gummy from lack of water, I sounded more like a bull frog. The shaman reached behind him and produced a cup of liquid, putting it to my lips. His other hand slid behind my head, lifting me enough so I could drink. It smelled herbal and I swallowed it almost automatically, trust instinctive.

"You remember me then...that is good," his smile was gentle as his gently eased me back. "I was not certain you would return."

"Return?" I frowned, trying to understand then memory came at me with a rush. "I-I thought I was home, dreaming- the dream...that was you?"

"You were hurt badly, Kimimela, and you would not respond, so I asked the spirits to call you to me, to find your wandering soul before you became lost."

"Where am I?" It suddenly occurred to me that if I was speaking to Stalking Elk, I was not at home. I remembered a soft voice, a warm touch- "What happened?"

"You have been injured, shot. Wind Runner brought you to me, fearing you were dying. You have been here, in my care."

I tried to sit up but gasped in pain, gritting my teeth so an agonized scream did not escape. Stalking Elk put a firm hand on my shoulder, resisting my attempts.

"You are not ready to rise, stay,"

"My family...how long have I been here?" Worry was pulsing through me now, pounding in my temples, flaring my raw and weak body with pain.

"I have watched over you for the full turning of nine suns, while you battled fever and sickness."

"Nine- nine suns!" my voice cracked it was so loud. "My mother-!"

"Pay-zjue-dah wee-chah-shah," the voice abruptly came from behind Stalking Elk, and Wind Runner came into sight, his brow furrowed as his gaze fell on me. "Is she recovered?"

"She is anxious," the shaman spoke soothingly, gesturing for the young brave to join him. "There are many questions she will ask, explain what she wants to know. I must go gather more medicines for her poultice."

We were alone then, and Wind Runner settled at my side, taking my hand in his, leaning down to push his forehead against mine.

"Was it you?" my cracked, feathery voice struggled to form words. "I thought there was someone, earlier..."