Disclaimer: I do not in any way; have possession over Yu Watase's work or any of her stuff. But having Kyo's hair or bow and arrow would be nice
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Prologue

The days were getting darker and darker as the people of the land knew that Grandfather Winter was coming soon. They needed to protect themselves from the cold with food and fur from the plenty land, provided by Mother Earth. Of course they would give thanks: it's only natural. They all had to do their part: women do the cooking and tending to the children and their homes while the men go out and hunt. Then again, it was only fair for the guys to go out because of their strength and body structure. But there's always one person that went against everyone's doings. That person was a girl.

"Come on, father!" The little girl chased his father around. "I'm coming of age already! Let me at least try to hunt with you guys."

"Adsila, how much times have I told you? You're job is to stay in the village with your mother and take care of things around here." Her father turned around and put his hand on her shoulder. "You have to get used to it: who's going to be here when the spirits come take me home?"

"But father, I'm not going to be the one taking after you." Adsila cried out. "Maska is! He's the rightful heir to your spot as chief, isn't he?" Her older brother walked behind them and gave out a chuckle.

"You got that right, Blossom. And unlike you, I'll make sure I take care of all the people in my village. Now go back and help mother before father gets angry." Adsila growled and stomped her way back to the hut. She was indeed the chief's daughter, and she was even treated like the chief's daughter. Everyone looks at her with those glances and those fake respect attitudes. Thinking of that makes her even angrier. She didn't want to be in the huts and help scrape off the meat from the fur. She didn't want to be tending the fire so it's all warm when father and Maska get home. And she did not want to take care of little kids and cook. She hated those jobs. She would rather give herself to Cousin River as an offering than to cook. Walking back into the hut, she sighed and sat herself down next to her mother.

a/n: In the Native American language, 'Adsila' comes from the Cherokee tribe which means 'Blossom'.

"Blossom, you know that Strong is right. We mustn't get your father angry at this time of the year." Her mother looked down at the patch of fur she's been sewing up for Maska.

a/n: And again, in the Native American language, 'Maska' means 'Strong'.

"But mother, I don't want to be here!" She whined. "I want to be out there running and catching animals for the entire tribe! I want to make something, someone out of myself!"

"Then if you want to make someone out of yourselves, first you got to prove to your father that you can cook, tend to the huts and the children, and make clothing like every other women in this tribe." Her mom tossed her pieces of otter skin and gave her an ivory bone needle and long piece of string made from sea lion fat. Adsila sighed and picked it up reluctantly.

"Prove yourself to him, Mother Earth, and me and then we'll talk about it with your father." Her mom sighed. "Although it is strictly against the saying of our village shaman…" Adsila growled. She hated the village shaman. A creepy old guy who's always chanting nonsense and sprinkling who-knows-what on everybody, supposedly bring good luck. She didn't believe in shaman or his believes.

Or good luck for that matter.