Author notes – first, thank you to Tintenfleck for the feedback. Regarding the dialogue, I thought it would be easier writing in a moderately modern speech form, rather than trying to mimic 18th century dialogue, I have the original LOTM novel and I can barely understand what they're saying sometimes.

Regarding the gypsy topic, I am trying to shine abit of light on the gypsy culture, what a lot of people see and accept is the negative examples and stereotypes. I understand the isolative nature of the gypsy culture, but remember there are tons of different gypsy people, American, Irish, Romani, Russian, Dutch etc. with completely different views to eachother, which I will outline later hopefully. If it makes more sense, whilst robin was born of gypsy descent, she is orphaned young. With the disbanding of the clan she is more exposed to the outer experiences of life, as well as other cultural practices.

And lastly, the native names I used are as close to their English translations as I could find. Though some such as Tawendeh and Tsi'tenha actually just mean the animals, like Otter, or Bird. The language I use is Wyandot, which was the most common language used amongst the Huron, Mohawk and Iroquois people. Because our language is so different from the many languages of the First Nation tribes a lot of meaning is lost in translation. For example the name 'Running Wolf' in native translation actually means 'he who runs like the wolf'. Sometimes it's easier to shorten the name, especially if it is shared by another warrior or so.

Robin struck the first blow. And she struck hard.

Late into the night Magua had returned from his visit to the sweat lodge. He had expected to find Little Bird clothed and asleep amongst his bed of fine furs, contented. Instead he found her almost nude, only covered by a mere fur pelt slung over her shoulders. For hours it seemed she had merely been stoking the fire, awaiting his return, as there was nothing else to amuse her. In his absence she had painted her body with blackened ash. Spiral patterns littered her arms and legs, like crashing waves on the rocky coasts. She looked at him, said nothing, and returned to prodding the fire with her stitc k. With the fur slung around her shoulders, all but briefly did Magua see the glint of her piercings in the glow of the fire. She was painted for war. Magua swallowed the uncomfortable lump which had formed in his throat. She looked like one of those heathens the French churchmen so piously condemned. They had shown Magua etchings and drawings of these 'pagans,' cavorting in the most immoral of ways. Dancing around fires, barely clothed, worshipping monstrous deities, all the while indulging in the most forbidden of pleasures.

Indeed, now she looked like a vengeful goddess, ready to strike him down. It aroused him, like the calm before battle.

Having quickly laced the door flap of the wigwam shut, he finally spoke. "Why are you not dressed?" He was grappling with him-self. It took all the control he could muster not to show any visible reaction. A warrior prided him-self on control. Though his blood seared with hellish fire, his expression was stoic

Robin shrugged, poking at stick at the fire. "Tawendeh did not come. I assume she is in the arms of her well missed husband", from the corner of her eye, she watched his approach.

"What is this then?" he ran his finger down the length of her arm, tracing the spiral patterns crudely drawn on her otherwise pale skin. Was she purposely tempting him? Testing his resolve? Like a doe, she dangled her-self before the hungry wolf.

Again she shrugged; "I got bored". The answer seemed almost childlike. Innocent even. But experience had taught him well. Whilst still young, Robin was not as innocent as she appeared. She was as cunning when circumstance called for it. Never would he underestimate her. It could prove fatal. Warrior life had taught him that much. Often the unseen dangers were the deadliest. He stepped away.

When she finally stood up to full height he couldn't help but snigger, masking his awkwardness with mockery "You look ready to go to war". She only stood up to the height of his chest. Even then she had carefully maneuverer the fur pelt to cover her front as she faced him. It was nearing Summer soon, Magua saw no need to store his thick long pelts at hand. Like a benevolent leader he gave them to those amongst his tribe who were need. Some kept them for the cold winters, other traded and sold them. He didn't care what became of them. The only one he cared was now the fox red fur clasped against Robin's figure. Too thin, he thought again.

Robin crossed her arms, carefully angling her body aside to perceive some modesty. Though she didn't know why. The fox pelt was only small. It was the only sizeable pelt not stitched to the bedding or floor. Part of her had intended to tease and tempt. To torment. She believed Magua's honour would prevent him from doing anything irrevocable. Now she was not so sure...a dangerous light flickered in his eyes.

Coolly she jarred her head, trying to look as dignified as always. "It's not wise to make war on gypsies. We are a fierce people"

"So are Hurons…" he countered before growing quiet. There was a moment of silence. Yet again the battle of wills was looming. A battle he was tired of having. "Do not fight me, Little Bird"

She rebuffed him sternly, as if such defeat was truly that bitter. "It is in my nature. You cannot break a gypsy's spirit", she dismissively gestured him away with her hand.

He then grasped her hand tightly in his own, "You cannot challenge a warrior's will"

"Then it seems we have reached a crossroads" She jerked her hand back, as if bitten. "You have my acceptance, but not my submission"

He frowned. "I will have your respect, woman"

"Respect is earned"

Magua could see this argument would lead nowhere. It was late into the night. He had not slept in his own wigwam for months. For one night, he wanted peace. He changed tactics.

"What are those beads…piercing your flesh?" he gestured to the area of piercings, silently aghast at their presence. Body piercings were not unheard of; he just never expected to see them on his slim, white captive. She needs to eat more… he mentally thought again. He would hunt for some fat plump rabbits.

"Rites of passage." She was deliberately vague.

He frowned. He was starting to get annoyed with the tandem answers. He had heard of the gypsy's notorious secrecy. He would have no secrets between them.

"How so?" He couldn't make his mind up whether he liked them or not. His fingers itched to trace the circumference of her naval. When she did not reply straight away, he made a move towards it.

Lightly slapping his hand away, she relented, huffing in exasperation. "My belly was pierced when I came of age as a young girl. It symbolises my fertility. My… breasts were done when I was eligible to marry. Some have their noses pierced when finally married. Widows remove theirs as a sign of respect."

"Are you a widow?" he couldn't help but ask. Maybe that is why she spurned him so persistently. Did she have a gypsy lover waiting for her somewhere out in the unknown? He fists clenched at the thought.

"No. Shuvani never marry" She spoke as if it was rule of nature.

"We shall marry".

"We shall not"

He was very persistent. He even considered getting a paid of those gold bands the Frenchmen put on their fingers, to symbolise their monogamy. On his part this was a massive gesture. As a successful War Chief Magua was well within his rights to obtain multiple wives, so long as he cared for them. Little Bird could be his head wife, or secondary. She could even be kept as a sort of mistress. Magua didn't have to honour her through marriage. Yet for some strange reason, he wanted to.

"I can gain our wise man's consent" he said as if it was the solution to his problem. Which of course it wasn't, as Robin so blatantly pointed out; "You don't have my consent yet"

He snuffed dismissively, moving away so that he could slip off his beaded moccasins."It is no concern of yours"

She arched her brow, "I beg to differ" her eyes followed his movements.

Again there was silence. After a moment of contemplation Magua decided to play his favours to his advantages, arguing got them nowhere. "Would it be so horrible, marrying a Great War Chief? Many women would consider them-selves honoured." He said in a casual, yet careful tone in hopes of not appearing to indulgent in self-flattery

"That is a matter of opinion" Robin replied with equal caution, careful not to offend his male pride.

"You would never go hungry. Never know the harsh cold of winter. Always have shelter over your head and the finest furs to keep you warm"

She scoffed. "What more could a woman want…" She thought her sarcasm would be as obvious as the rolling of her eyes.

"Indeed"

Apparently not...

It was her turn to approach him, desperate to make him see the logic of her argument. In doing so, she took his paw like hand, holding it in both hands as she spoke, gazing at him with the same blue eyes that first enchanted him. "I am a gypsy, Magua…We are born standing on our feet, so that we ready to run with the sun. The day we settle down, is the day we are preparing to die." Like a secret she was ashamed of, she admitted, "I would not be a good wife for you, Magua. You cannot change the nature of an animal, any more than you can command the sun when to set. Why torture us both? One day you will wake, and like the morning tide, I will be gone. If we have children, I will take them with me, as is the gypsy way. And you… shall have nothing" she hoped then the magnitude of his decision would weigh on his shoulders. Although she had resigned her-self to married life, she did not intend to do so for the rest of her life. Eventually the winds would change and beckon her, and like a dutiful servant, she would follow without thought. Many hearts had been broken by his gypsy way of life. Few who are not born of it dare to follow.

He was silent for a moment, as if seriously internalising her words. He drew away, as if he him-self now had been bitten. He seemed to take a moment to compose him-self. Perhaps her words had struck home. Without a word he removed his weapons in a muted fashion, and then stripped off his shirt, revealing a chest and back littered with old scars, ranging with age. He turned to gaze at the dwindling fire, now left unattended. Perhaps her words had struck too hard. For a man who has lost everything, to face such an experience again…who knew how he would react. Robin braced her-self. But she was caught off guard.

Off handily, he grinned over his shoulder. "You have thought about us having children? This pleases me"

In the back of her mind she had realised, she had never seen him grin. It was as if a full fledge fox was now leering at her.

Robin shoulders sagged in exasperation. "You're not evening listening to me are you?" It was like talking to a tree. A very stubborn, Huron tree.

He approached again, gesturing between him-self and her. "Know this, gypsy. The fire between us burns too bright to be ignored". Gingerly he trailed his fingers along her forearms, returning her earlier touch.

With a stony expression she rebuffed him, masking her disbelief with measured words. "Men are fickle things. I can be patient, I can wait. Like all men you will eventually grow bored"

"You underestimate my desire." He almost looked offended, now grasping her arms tightly. Again his expression turned spiteful. The pressure of his grip increased, making her wince. "I think you are the one who is fickle. Converting with my brother, in the nude"

She turned a bashful red, striking his chest in utter insult. "I was bathing and he was the one spying on me! Why am I to blame?"

"And what about that Mohawk runt, Waneek?" he could barely spit out the name out with so much venom caught in his throat. Waneek was young, handsome, unscarred. Everything Magua saw him-self as not.

"He saved my life. This means much to a gypsy" Again she tried to shrug him off. When he got temperamental like this there was little hope of speaking with reason.

He was having none of it. "Don't I mean something to you, gypsy?"

Tired of this conservation already she withdrew into her-self, unwilling to face the issue he had just proposed. "If we continue down this road, we shall both be damned."

With obscure and twisted affection his hands travelled up, cupping her face in his palms so that she would gaze up at him. He stared deeply into her blue eyes, as if hoping the answers to his problems would stare right back at him. "I was damned the day I met you, gypsy. I have made my bed, now it is time to lay in it".

Just when Robin thought he was going to kiss her, he retreated. Instead Magua retired to his bed of furs, finally stripping off leggings, leaving only a loincloth to cover his nudity. He chuckled to him-self with Robin averted her gaze. Now he was teasing her. Reclining back, taunt lean muscles stretching, he rested his arms behind his head and waited. She knew he wished for her to join him. There was nowhere else to sleep. The fire was dying out, and she certainly wasn't going to sleep on the floor like a common mongrel. He had not made any amorous advances. He generally seemed tired from his long campaign. Already his eyes were closed and his chest steadily rising and falling with each intake of crisp evening air.

The realisation dawned on her…It must have been months since he has last slept in his own bed…

He was finally home. Who was she to ruin that?

With a sigh of resignation she slowly crawled onto the very edge of the bed, content with the space the between them.

But sleep did not come quickly to her. Quietly, almost too afraid to break the silence, Robin asked, "Did you love your wife?" She had asked before, but he hadn't given her an answer. The question had come out of nowhere, and yet it played constantly in the back of her mind. She knew little about this man personally, and was looking for some sort of comforting insight…she didn't get it.

"Huron do not speak of the dead" He stated, with his eyes still firmly closed.

"Is she dead?" She thought his first wife only remarried

Then in the coldest tone she had ever said, he said, "She is dead to me…"

Again there was silence, and Robin chose to leave it at that. From the tension in his jaw she could see the question had struck a tender nerve. She wondered if Magua still had feelings for his first wife, hence his reaction…?

The more she thought about it, the more profound she became. She couldn't help but wonder if Magua felt betrayed by his wife's remarriage. He spoke little of her, and gave no insight into what sort of relationship they shared. Was she an obedient wife? Were they childhood sweethearts? Was she beautiful? If Magua had loved her, why hadn't he tried to reclaim her? Maybe social conventions prohibited such actions. But more likely, perhaps it was pride. He left his tribe a broken man and returned as a Great Chief. Maybe his wife reminded him of everything he was, and everything that he had lost. Like a rotting limb, perhaps it was better to be severed, than to remain attached to the body as a whole. Robin tried to picture being Magua's first wife. They had had children, whom were killed in the cross fire of war. Her husband was taken captive by their mortal enemies, the Mohawks, more than likely to be killed than adopted. Was she forced to remarry, in order to survive? Was it easy to forget Magua and fall into the arms of another? Robin couldn't even begin to comprehend that kind of emotional torment. She wondered if the woman was in their very village, but then deduced it was unlikely. Magua's first wife would have probably left with her new husband, leaving old wounds to heal…If they ever could.

Does Magua ever compare me to her? She wondered, unsure of how she felt. This was a faceless ghost, a shade of a woman, an enigmatic opponent.

With the fire now but a smouldering patch, there was utter darkness in the wigwam.

Just as Robin was about to fall asleep, strong arms encircled her waist and pulled her close to the warm body beside her. Whilst one arm stayed coiled around her waist, the other supported her weight. She laid half on him, her head and hands having no choice but to rest of the barrel that was his chest. Leisurely his fingers toyed with the curls of her hair. It was actually quite soothing, hearing his heart beating in his chest, the scent of burnt cedar, musk and woodlands engulfing her. Tentatively a muscular leg snaked over her own pair, further ensnaring her. In a husky voice, laced with fatigued, he asked, "Are gypsy women faithful?" his words were slightly muffled as his bured the side of his face into her hair, inhaling her scent, as if committing it to memory, much like the brother wolf does when he has found a mate.

In the sincerest tone, she sleepily replied, "…Yes"

She soon fell asleep.

Magua lay awake for hours. Things had not played out how he had hoped. He had meant to keep Little Bird secluded for a few days, let her grow accustom to her new life. Bit by bit he would introduce her into the Huron tribe. First step would be befriending the women. They would be the ones to teach her important skills, such as tanning hides and cooking meals. Perhaps if he bribed Tawenhed she would start teaching Little Bird some of their language. The words of Englishmen could not fully translate the essence and beauty which only Wyandot tongue could convey. Next would be the meeting with their village wise man. He would need to cleanse Little Bird of all outer influences, and bless her entry into their tribe. Once Little Bird became settled Magua would then start the courting processions.

Courtship was a delicate social matter. Although Little Bird, by rules of conquest, was his captive, in order to make her his wife he would need to follow strict social protocol. Usually when a young woman came of age she was closely guard by her relatives. A young suitor had to be careful when scouting for possible brides. Once his sights were set he had but few options. Traditionally, if he was confident in his own manhood, he would directly approach the maiden's male relatives and make his intentions subtly known. Once he had established himself he would pay a handsome tribute of food, blankets, even rifles. As long as he could provide for the bride's family then he was seen as an eligible suitor and would be granted permission to continue more intimate courtship until finally the marriage was consummated and the two lovers would move into a wigwam of their own. With the maiden's acceptance, of course.

Little Bird, it seemed, had no male relatives, alive or close by. This would prove problematic. Magua could give her to a Huron family; his authority as Great War Chief would allow him to do so. She would live with a Huron family for a few months, grow accustom to her new life, and once settled Magua would then approach her adoptive father. The only problem with his plan was threat of competition; other Huron suitors could court her as well. Including his snake of a brother. Such an act would be an outright challenge to Magua's authority. And being the grown men that they were, this challenge would only be settled with a fight to the death. Magua had to admit, despite his contempt for his half-brother, the Seneca bastard was a very good fighter. Strong and swift. Looking down at Robin, Magua couldn't help but feel his age was showing in comparison to both his young half-brother, and even younger soon to be wife. If there was even a possibility of Magua being defeated then all would be lost. Little Bird, his position amongst his tribe, and most likely, his life. He would never show Che'estaheh mercy, and he wouldn't expect any in return.

Sighing heavily he continued to ponder. He could give Little Bird to the wise man Yunyeno. He could be her adoptive male figure. It would certainly give her respectable standing amongst the tribe. The old dog's bark would scare away any unwanted suitors. Magua would go hunting in the morning and bring the old man a tribute in hopes he would accept Little Bird under his guardianship. He had his doubts however. Little Bird was far more defiant than many Huron women. Yunyeno was a stubborn old man, set in his ways. Whether he would tolerate such a mouthy 'daughter' was another concern.

When Robin woke up the next morning, Magua was yet again gone. The furs they had shared were now cold in his absence.

He's definitely an early riser…

She sighed, lying on the back on the pellet of furs, looking up at the ceiling of the wigwam without any particular interest. Things had not gone how she had hoped. Not that she was really sure how she had wanted them to do in the first place. she had agreed to marry Magua. She acknowledged that. Accepting it was another matter. Magua would want an obedient wife. A respectable companion. A loving bed mate. She was none of these things. And she certainly wasn't ready to be a mother. Birthing children, tanning hides, cooking food...was that the life she had searched for ?

No! She sat straight up, frowning at her-self. She wanted adventure. She wanted to see the world and meet new people. If she wanted to be married and settled down then she could have just married a white settler, or gypsy kinsmen. There was still so much to do, and a husband would only slow her down. Sadly men had this innate assumption women needed protecting, always needed to be cared for and kept out of danger. Robin had none of it was a child and she was having none of it now. She wanted to travel further inland, see the different terrains, meet the different tribes. She had heard there were hundreds of different tribes. Curiosity called for her to explore. Just as it called to her visitors...

Every so often she would hear the amused giggles of visiting children, peering at her through the half untied flap. When she would looked over at them they would quickly scurry away like field mice. She huffed. She was tired of being cooped up, moved from here to there, told to do this and that. If she was stuck there in the village then she wanted to at least see what there was to do and see. Maybe she could find something to amuse her. She wasn't going to stay out of sight like some frightened puppy. She was going to explore. It was gypsy nature.

Scavenging what clothes she could find easily accessible, Robin donned a pair of what seemed to be Magua's winter buckskin leggings, finely beaded with many colours. The plain linen shirt she had found–how it was acquired it, Robin didn't know- engulfed her. It wasn't the most well fitted attire, the leggings were far too big, barely hanging on her hips, and scuffing the floor. Still better than a dress... Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the wigwam.

Never shy in the public eye, with shoulders drawn back, she marched barefooted down to the river. Women stopped and stared at her, whilst nearby men looked on completely dumbfounded. Children ran alongside her, looking at her as if she was enchanting animal. Their mothers quickly called them away. Even Ongewa him-self stepped out of his wigwam at the calling of his son, Anue. He crossed his arms as he simply watched her, looking ready to burst out in laughter. Other men watched her suspiciously, unsure whether she would make an attempt to escape, but also uncertain whether they should interfere. She was Magua's captive, and he was elsewhere attending to his duties. Unhindered, Robin continued her casual stroll through the village, soon crossing paths with Tawendeh.

She dropped her basket of berries, shrieking in horror "No, no! Stupid girl, stupid." She ducked inside her family's wigwam and quickly retrieved a half-heartedly made dress "I have dress for you. You can't wear those" she gestured wildly between one article of clothing to the other. She even tugged at the baggy leggins, in hopes of conveying her panicked message.

It took Robin a moment to realise what the woman was trying to say. She just shook her head stubbornly. "I don't want a dress." Shrugging the woman off Robin continued on her way.

Tawendeh nearly had a fit. She had made those leggings especially for Magua, the beading alone took hours. Now Robin was walking around in them, the cuffs scuffing along the rough ground, becoming tattered.

Other women had congregated by the edge of the river again, scrubbing clothes against the soft rocks, and rinsing out used cooking pots. The trio of young giggling women stopped abruptly, gawking the new comer.

The most beautiful of the three spoke first, giggling in a high pitch voice not suited for her true age. "Who, or what, is that?"

Her companions followed her mocking example, shyly pointing as they sniggered. "Magua's captive. I think it's a girl"

"What an ugly girl"

Her friends fawned over her. "Not like you, Ji'yah. You are the most beautiful woman in the village"

"This is true" She flicked her long glossy black hair back over her shoulder, knowing full well how beautiful she was. A young mother of two children, she still had a good healthy figure. She was the envy of many tribal women. However her face turned horrid with a foul scowl. She eyed the outsider like a beady eyed dog eyeing an intrusive fox. "Why would Magua want such an ugly woman?"

One of the more mature women chimed in thoughtfully "She is not so ugly." Usually the older women stayed out of the gossip and catty chatter. Despite their docile nature, women could be vicious combatants, capable of cruelty no male could match. Daily chores and attentive husbands were thought to keep this vindictive nature at bay.

However this was not always the case. Ji'yah shrieked like an angry cat, kicking a stone at the older woman, showing just how badly her temper could flare. "Look at her, smothered in dirt, hair cut short, so pale and thin. She looks like a mongrel." Like the two faces of coin, hers changed yet again, back to haughty smiling beauty. "Am I not the more beautiful one? My hair is long and black, like raven feathers. My skin is healthy, like the darkest of honey. My hips are so wide that I birthed two children with ease. Warriors look upon me and become mad with desire" She sauntered shamelessly along the shore, waving to nearby men in fishing canoes.

"Well, Che'estaheh seemed to think she was nice enough to look at. He was spying on her the other day, right here in the river" The older took slight joy in pointing out

She blinked absently as if her hearing had failed her."What?!" She spun round so quickly she almost tripped over her own feet.

"He was watching her bath! Almost went in to join her" Ji'yah female companions turned traitorous, giggling and gasping in unison, like clucking field pheasants. "I heard that too. Magua had to chase him off like a scoundrel."

Again the mature woman opted in, purposely trying to rattle the high and mighty Ji'yah. "She has nice eyes, blue like my French beads. Very rare. She is thin like the willow, yes. But perhaps a good dancer. With a voice that shames even the more beautiful of song birds, so Tawendeh tells me. " The woman had heard enough of Ji'yah vain ramblings. It was time for her to feel the harsh sting of jealousy. What consequences came of it were no concern of hers

"Enough!" Ji'yah snapped, marching away from the flock over to Robin. "You!" she pointed angrily towards the otherwise bewildered young woman. "Stay away from my man!"

Robin blinked at the disgruntled woman, hissing in her face. "I'm…sorry? I don't understand what you're saying" she looked completely disinterested in what she was saying, unaware of the conservation which had just transpired moments ago.

"Che'estahed, Che'estahed!" She screeched "He is mine! My man!" She was like a temperamental child, having a hissy fit. Stomping her feet on the ground, fists balled up tightly, her face twisted in jealousy. She looked like an enraged banshee.

"Ch'estahed?" Robin recognised the name. Magua's brother. She then frowned. Was this woman his wife? She couldn't understand why the woman was suddenly so angry with her, when moments before she giggling with glee far away from her.

The woman's eyes darkened even further. Ji'yah suddenly launched at her, enraged to hear Robin utter her lover's name aloud. The two tumbled into the river, Ji'yah attempting to grasp and pull at Robin's short hair, but her grip kept failing. In her attempts Robin clocked the side of Ji'yah side with a loud crack. Ji'yah howled with pain and retaliated with a well-aimed slap. Despite the vicious fight the rest of the women watched on, with no intentions of breaking up the river side entertainment. They thought the outsider was fairing much better than most girls who had crossed Ji'yah's path. One forceful slap across the face was enough to send most running to the shelter of their wigwams. It was a display of dominance, but one she couldn't support, as Robin was turning the tables.

"Get off me, crazy woman!"

"Manstealer!"

The two women thrashed in the water, swinging at each other like a pair of wildcats. Ji'yah scratched and clawed, aiming for the blue eyes that insulted her so much whilst Robin fought to keep the woman's hands at bay, her nails digging into the flesh of the wrists. Robin kicked out, placing some distance between them when her foot connected squarely with the Huron woman's midsection. Gaining some footing Robin stood up, staggering back as Ji'yah resurfaced, coughing and choking on the river water she had swallowed. Before the madness could continue a booming voice rang out, calling for everyone's attention. Magua had returned to the village.

"Little Bird!" He came stalking down towards the river, followed by a stout, porky looking old man.

The elderly man looked at Robin, drenched in muddy water, and then turned towards Magua. "This is the woman I have agreed to take as my daughter?"

Just when Magua feared the old man would rescind his agreement, he surprised with chief with a cheeky smile. "Ha, she has spirit. I like her" The two then looked back at the emerging warrior women.

Ji'yah was first to compose her-self, crawling out of the water like a drowned rat. "Magua, Great Chief, do you not see what your animal has done to me?! This is an outrage! I demand she be punished!" Ji'yah screeched whilst cradling her face, as if it was a piece of fragile, broken pottery. Her right eye was already beginning to swell and blacken. Murky clumps of mud clung to her damp hair, mattering into a bee hive of a mess. She looked more like a haggard water witch than a beautiful Huron maiden. Out of the fight Robin seemed to come out the victor, only brandishing a split lip and bruised knuckles. Whilst Ji'yah wept bitterly over her blackened eye, Robin sucked on her lip and spat out the excess blood. Magua looked unimpressed with Ji'yah's she cried rivers of crocodile tears, Robin shed none. Clearly this wasn't her first cat fight.

"You do not make demands to me, woman." Magua looked between the women, unable to determine who had dealt the first bow. This also wasn't the first time Ji'yah had been involved in a 'feminine dispute', though she usually came out of it moderately unscathed, preferring to use gossip and slander to her advantage rather than physically coming to blows. But he wouldn't put it pass Little Bird to retaliate when needed. She too was also feisty. "I do not settle the petty squabbles of women. I do not care who struck first. You are both Huron women. Behave as such!"

"Ha!" Ji'yah spat "She is not Huron! She is White"

"She is now Yunyeno's daughter." Magua snapped "And soon to be my wife. She is Huron" Yet again a small crowd had gathered, curious to see what had transpired to cause so much shouting and commotion. "All of you, back to your chores!"

The women on the river bank quickly scurried away, Ji'yah being one of them, pitifully limping away as her friends tried to untangle the muddy knots from her hair.

One of the mature women, whom had lingered, offered Robin a friendly hand out of the river.

Robin eyed her wearily, wondering if it was some sort of cruel trick. None the less she took the woman's hand and stepped out onto the solid river bank."…Thank you?"

"You hit Ji'yah good. Very fun to watch." She then walked away with her laundry, chuckling.

Finally only Magua, the old man, and Robin remained. Even the fishermen on the river had moved off.

Shaking his head and crossing his arms, he sighed, "What a troublesome woman. I leave you alone, and again I find you have caused trouble"

"It is in my nature" Robin couldn't help but pout, showing her age. "Besides, she started it"

She is the trickster's daughter… Magua mentally grumbled. He could tell she wasn't the least big apologetic it. At least she is not weak. It would have done no good to cower. Let the village women know that she is one to fight back.

He then titled his head, "Why are you wearing my clothes?"

She shook the excess water from her hair, and hang out the hem of the linen shirt, which was now stained and muddy. "I got sick of sitting around in that wigwam. I wanted to go for a walk." The beaded leggings were torn, utterly ruined. Tawendeh would be in tears, seeing her hard work wrecked in mere minutes. Magua, however, didn't been seem too choked up. He was more interested in introducing the man beside him.

"This is Yunyeno, Dog Man. He is our wise man. You shall stay with him. Be respectful" he looked at her expectantly, as if he had gone to great lengths to achieve this meeting –which he had- and now expected her to be utterly grateful.

Always one to disappoint, Robin frowned, quick to point out "First you send me to that longhouse. Then your wigwam, and now to his." She seemed more annoyed than what she really was. Such an unpredictable man…He would have made a fine gypsy man. She did however acknowledge the elderly man with a respectful nod.

Having no intentions of revealing his plans just yet, Magua sternly sought to asserted his authority; especially with Yunyeno watching so intently. "Do as I say. I have spoken" And just like a thunderous storm, he was gone, again leaving her aghast at his actions. The old man had just stood there, watching the scene unfold, looking utterly amused with the turn of events.

"Most amusing" He turned back towards the village, walking off until finally Robin had no choice but to follow.

A/N – I'm evil aren't I ? I'm a sucker for the whole 'will they get together, wont they?' complex. And believe it or not….things are going to get even more juicy ! stay tuned ! anyone guess what's going to happen ;) ? remember ! review the story, to get more chapters !

On another note, I am considering getting a Betta for this story, but not sure how to go around doing it...