There was nothing more than the sensation of the wind blowing across his face, rustling the leaves in the trees. There was the occasional grunt and snort of a buck moving through the grass, expressing its displeasure with other males, and there were also the shrill shrieks of fox kits, playing outside their den. The forest was as quiet as it usually was. There were no disturbances of any human kind to be found for miles, apart from a native boy, crouched quietly in the branches of a tree, letting the wind blow over him, and the animals carrying on noisily below him. Ratonhnhaké:ton could have stayed like that for hours, if he wanted, but he was not so inclined. He took a deep breath and very slowly opened his eyes, squinting through the leaves at the dappled sunlight that greeted him. He lowered his head, then and surveyed the ground beneath him, frowning as he did so, and leaning heavily to his left, wrapping his arm further around the tree branch he clung to.

Then, with all the poise and grace of an eagle, he took off through the trees, his feet stamping against the wood, and his bow and arrow slapping noisily against his skin. The belts that crossed over his bare chest shifted a bit, but the skin beneath them was calloused enough that he did not notice. He grabbed branches, pushing them out of the way and using them to haul himself forwards, until he came to a clearing and the branches ceased to allow easy passage. He came to a stop, standing with his feet one in front of another atop a branch large enough to support his weight. He looked on, his eyes traversing the grass ahead of him, before he crouched down, grabbing the width of the branch between his hands and swinging himself down into a hanging position. He hung there a brief while, before dropping to the ground, in a crouch. The shock done to his feet was quickly forgotten as Ratonhnhaké:ton stood up briskly and began to make his way through the clearing, tapping anxiously on the beads around his neck.

His eyes remained downwards, staring down at the grass, which was browned and caked with a hard dull drown substance that Ratonhnhaké:ton could easily identify as blood. He slowly raised his head to the large oak tree, which stood proudly towards the edge of the clearing, despite the macabre decorations which hung from its bows. Three dead bodies hung lifelessly from a singly branch, twisting in the wind, with their arms bound behind them, and their heads covered with hessian sacks. Ratonhnhaké:ton approached the tree slowly, and stood for a moment, watching the bodies twist and turn as the wind blew past them, the rope continuing to rub raw patches into their slightly rotted skin. His attention slowly left the men hanging there and turned to the tree's mighty trunk, where someone had nailed a large piece of wood with big white letters painted on it, that read: "HAIL TO THE KING."

Ratonhnhaké:ton scowled and he walked over and grabbed the piece of wood, which was slightly rotted around the edges, and pulled it clear from its hook. He turned and threw it away, as if it might infect him with some disease just by touching it. He wipes his hands on the pelt that he kept tied around his waist, grimacing as he did so. He then slowly turned and looked up at the three men, once more, and his expression softened. He turned around, and as quickly and naturally as any other man could whistle, he scaled the tree's bark, hauling himself up onto the branch from which the three luckless souls still hung. He produced a stone knife from its hilt on his side, and grabbed one of the ropes before beginning to saw through it. The body fell to the ground with a sickening thump, and the other two very quickly followed suit. As soon as all three had been detached, Ratonhnhaké:ton leapt from the branch and landed beside them, before reaching down and straightening them out in a line, beneath the oak. He looked up and cast his eye about him to make sure he was not being watched before he knelt down and began to stab at the dirt around them with the knife from his belt. He did not have the time or the tools to bury them in the manner that they would have considered a proper burial. However, it was better than leaving them to hang and rot in the warm June sun.

He covered them as thoroughly as he could with the dirt around them, and patted it down tightly. Ratonhnhaké:ton had never had much to say, especially not in the way of ceremony, so he simply stood up and wipes his hands down the fur that he wore around his waist, and gave the dead a respectful nod and moment of his silence. He then turned in the direction he had come, and bolted swiftly across the clearing. He did not bother climbing into the trees, and instead jumped over rocks and branches that formed debris among the forest floor, allowing the steady downhill slope to carry him faster than he would normally be able to run.

The run took longer than he had been expecting and he felt his cheeks burn with the realization that he had wandered further from the valley than he had meant to. He continued to slip down the hill, barely keeping his feet underneath him, when the large wooden walls of his village came into view. He slowed himself to a jog, allowing the breeze to cool his heated face as he heaved in breath. He made his way to the dirt path that lead into the land, and slipped behind the opening, running his hands idly along the wall. A few people glanced up at him as he returned into the village, but he was largely unnoticed, which suited him just fine. He made his way to the center of his village, nodding a greeting to a few elder men, and then pushed aside a pelt, which hung in the doorway of a longhouse. He ducked under it, and stepped inside, casting his eyes around nervously as he did. He saw no one else inside, and just as a sigh of relief began to part from his lips, he felt a hand on his shoulder and a strict tone from behind him.

"Where have you been, Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton winced and slowly turned to face the Mohawk woman behind him. "Hello, mother."

"I told you, do not leave the valley." She folded her arms.

"I did not go far." He blushed, embarrassedly.

"Let me see your hands." She held out her own hand, palm upwards, and Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at it for a few minutes.

"Why?"

"Let me see them." She motioned, curling her fingers. With great hesitation, he raised his right hand and put it in hers. Instantly she grabbed his wrist and pulled it closer, inspecting it. "That is a lot of dirt under your fingernails for a simple walk you told me you were taking."

"I fell."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, what did you do?" She released his hand and it fell down to his waist again, dejectedly.

"Mother…I… I could not leave those men out there. They did not do anything wrong, and they deserved a better burial and more respect than what they were given."

Kaniehtí:io's features softened, if only a little bit, and she put a hand on her son's shoulders. "That is a noble cause, my son." She said moving his braid slightly with her fingertips. "However, it is not worth losing your life over."

Ratonhnhaké:ton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No one saw me, and even if they had, it would not matter." His features set into a determined glare. "I am ten times quicker than Washington's best solider."

"And ten times as arrogant."

"Mother…" He frowned up at her as she turned around and walked deeper into the long house. "You worry over me too much. I am nearly the age of a man!"

"You are a child, Ratonhnhaké:ton. You are thirteen."

Ratonhnhaké:ton scowled and followed her as she continued to walk forwards. "I can protect myself now."

"Just because you can wield a weapon does not mean you should go out looking for a fight. I do not want you leaving this valley." She turned to him, her features just as determined. "Do you understand me, my son?"

"I am tired of staying here! I am tired of seeing my brothers go out and die and burn, and knowing that there are countless men dying needless deaths. I want to fight!"

"You will fight. But not now. Not today. You are not ready."

"Then let me become ready!" He cried, exasperatedly. He sighed and straightened, taking a pleading stance towards his mother. "Oiá:ner said… she said you and some others discovered something. Something out there that makes you stronger. She said… she said that if I were to take it, then…"

"No!"

Ratonhnhaké:ton flinched backwards from his mother's sudden outburst, and looked up at her once more. He was shocked to see such alarming amounts of anger in her face. "Mother…"

"I do not want to hear anymore of this nonsense. You do not need some foreign poison in your body to make you stronger. You will become strong by your own two hands. You will fight with your own strength, do you hear me, Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

"Mother, please-"

"Do you hear me?" She snapped.

He sighed and lowered his arms, in defeat. "Yes."

"Good. Now forget all this talk of power, and strength. And forget whatever fool ideas that old woman is putting in your head." She pointed a finger, tapping him lightly on his forehead. Ratonhnhaké:ton batted at her hand lightly, his face still carrying sullen disappointment. She smiled at him, the anger in her eyes gone. "I have something for you."

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked up suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. "You do?"

"Yes." She turned around and continued her trek into the long house. She reached the corner on the farthest side, where two beds were made. One was his, the other hers. And laying on top of his mother's pelts, was another folded pelt, though it was smaller. Ratonhnhaké:ton tilted his head at it, and was after a moment able to tell it was fur that came from a wolf, though it did not look like a usual pelt. It had been sewn up in quite a few places, and he wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to be. His mother leaned down and picked it up, holding it up for him to see it fully, but Ratonhnhaké:ton was still completely baffled as to what it was. He reached out an took a corner between his fore finger and thumb.

"What is it?"

Kaniehtí:io chuckled briefly and then turned the pelt around, and Ratonhnhaké:ton's frown only became more pronounced as his confusion deepened. It was not an average wolf pelt, as it seemed to be the head of the wolf. The snout and ears were clearly visible, and he could tell where the nose and eyes had once belonged. She then flipped it around, turning it so the back was facing her son, and lifted it up and over his head. She draped it over Ratonhnhaké:ton's head and neck, and he could feel it clear down his shoulder blades. The wolf's snout slipped down over his eyes and he reached up and pushed it away, looking up at his mother curiously.

"A hood?"

"Hm." She frowned, tapping a finger to her chin. "It is a little big on you, but I'm sure you'll grow into it."

Ratonhnhaké:ton reached back and yanked it a little further down his neck, before shuffling a little in place, trying to get it to fall naturally into a place where it would not hang in his eyes. He stretched a few times, seeing if it would stay in place, but a quick readjustment of his belts made that possible. He beamed up at his mother, once he was satisfied. "I love it. Thank you, mother."

She smiled and reached up, running a finger through the fur. "Well it is something to do… while I wait to see what develops. Perhaps I will find more furs to decorate you with. A wolf for your head. A bear for your shoulders…" She poked him, as she spoke.

"Mother…" He grumbled, pushing her hand away and turning bright red with embarrassment.

"Alright, alright." She conceded, leaning down and wrapping him up tightly in her arms. She held him there a moment, until he returned it and then pushed back. "Go on now. And stay out of trouble."

Ratonhnhaké:ton pushed backwards, and turned around, slowly exiting the tent from the opposite doorway. He ran a hand along the fur of his new hood, and pushed the tips from his eyes again. He slowly examined the dirt beneath his fingernails, and heaved a sigh. King Washington's men pushed further and further every day, and his mother's plan could not simply be to stand still and do nothing. He had a feeling she had something planned, and it had to be something big, and something very dangerous, of that he was sure. He knew she was hiding something from him. Though he had no idea, just how dangerous that something was, and how it would change everything, forever.

(Surprise! This is what I've been doing with my life. Uhh yeah. I'm going to keep writing What We Call Bonding, when inspiration strikes, but for now, this has grabbed my life by the shoulders and is shaking as hard as it can. Cause oh my gosh, am I the only one who is in love with the Tyranny time line and wants to know everything about how it works? I'm going to burst with excitement waiting for the next part.)