Author's Note; Sorry my stuff's really short .; I honestly can't help it sometimes.
Chapter 2
He found himself passed out on the ground in the high vegetated field in which he was running in hours before. The over-bearing sunlight stabbed at the other side of his eyelids, forcing them to open and meet the sun and sky. Groggily he went to rub his eyes to the adjustment and notices that he looks down at his hands. They seemed slightly paler, but he figures it's because of the mixture of sunlight and how ill he feels when realizing he should go look at the damage to his once home.
Slowly he walks back to the place where he was so fond of in despair for he had a vague image of how it was now. Shuffling his feet on the familiar path he found with his head hanging low.
When he finally reached his destination it truly was what he imagined it to be. Nothing but burned and torn cloth, abandoned bowls and tools that took weeks to make and carve. The plants if not dead were on the journey to death and the only things that did seem alive were the memories of last night's tragedy flooding his mind.
The white men left corpses on the ground of his people. The unknown nation gritted his teeth and tried holding back his tears as he got to work for preparing a proper burial for his family members.
When he was sealing a prayer he heard voices approaching but stayed where he was. He didn't understand their language but the voices were much higher and faster then the way his people spoke. He