A/N – right, first things first, thank you Tintenfleck. I read the old marvel comic; I don't know if there's a more recent one out, though I have seen a French adaption which seemed quite good. Anyway, sorry for the lack of update, but I have been away to Austria, and I actually wrote this during the 14 hour drive ! sorry for the wait, I have just finished uni exams so have been very busy. trying to keep my-self motivated to keep writing this.

Also it has been brought to my attention (thank you Mohawk woman) that you guys might not be getting the update alerts? if you guys want updates to my story please private message me, so in future I can personally send you a message to let you know when my chapter is up.

Days had passed without much incident. After the confrontation with Ji'yah in the river Robin had seen little of the vindictive devil woman, or anyone for that matter. Yunyeno's wigwam was strangely isolated from the rest of the village, bordering on the outskirts, though still in sight. His wigwam was humble, as he had few personal possessions. All he had were bare necessities. Crockery, clothes and some warm blankets. She personally found Yunyeno to be a strange character. Although he was revered amongst the village, he was a recluse at the same time, only venturing into the heart of the village when his services were required. He spoke little to no English, though Robin suspected the wily old man at least understood a few phrases. Maybe he refuses to speak the language of those trying to conquer his people... Who could blame him? But it made communication difficult. Robin only managed to communicate him through amateurish sign language and very poor broken French. Magua was insistent that Robin learn the language of his people. He hoped it would better assimilate her to tribal life. In the mornings when Yunyeno would wake for his morning chanting, Robin was carted off by the local women, to do chores and learn skills. Her mornings were sometimes filled with foraging. Summer had brought an abundance of fruit and berries. The women harvested these bounties whilst men hunted for wild game. Whilst the great woodlands were now bountiful, the Huron always restocked and preserved their food supply. Some winters could be harsh, with little to no game. During such periods they survived on dried biscuits and finely made paste made from berries and nuts.

It was a brisk but otherwise warm morning. Given a basket, Robin followed the usual trail of berries, lost in concentration. Picking the berries by hand she knew exactly what to look for, none that were particularly withered or rotten. Only ripe berries tasted the best. Robin was so lost in concentration she didn't even hear Tawendeh calling after her down the trail.

"Tis'tenha…Tis'tenha!"

She didn't recognise her Huron name yet. Magua always called her by the English translation. She was half buried in a bush by the time Tawendeh stumbled over to her, playfully slapping her on her upturned rump. Robin jerked back from the bush like rabbit caught a hunter's trap. She looked questionably at the older woman.

"Don't go too far", Tawendeh lectured. Looking around cautiously, she ushered Robin back to the main group, like a diligent mother doe. "Come"

"Why?" Robin looked around curiously. Even though they were still close to the village, they had a constant entourage of men keeping watch, some concealed in the nearby trees, others sat in the open. It never occurred to Robin that there might actually be a possible threat. They were deep in the heart of tribe territory. Who would be as so bold to launch an attack?

"Seneca…Seneca steal you away." Tawendeh answered, as if that was explanation enough. Robin stared owlishly, expecting more. The older woman rolled her eyes at the young woman's naivety. "Always they like to steal away Huron women…even pale ones." She smiled, slapping Robin's rump again when she didn't go straight back to picking berries. Perhaps it was her sign of affection?

The women had overhead their conversation and giggled, "Seneca men look for Huron women because their Seneca women are so ugly". They all then burst into a fit of laughter, making light of the very realistic threat. Many tribes practiced captive taking, even before the white man came to their shores. This was different from common slavery however. During times of war, enemy tribes counted coup and stole women and children from neighbouring tribes, often adopting them into their own clans later after the captives assimilated to their new life. The practice kept the blood in the tribe healthy, perverting interbreeding. Very rarely would adolescent boys and young men be taken. Their lives were forfeited in battle. Many actually preferred a glorious death in battle, than a dull life in captivity.

Life in captivity wasn't exactly sitting well with Robin either. The novelty was quickly fading…

At sunset the women regrouped and took their baskets back to the village. The berries needed to be cleaned, soaked and dried. Some were kept fresh for immediate eating; the rest was squashed into a fruity beverage or dried for biscuit like cakes. Tawendeg handed a generous bundle of them to Robin.

"Take some back for Yunyeno. The old dog must eat. He grows thin." She then looked up and down at Robin. Her frown implied displeasure. "You take some too"

Robin had gotten used to ignoring such remarks. It was blatantly obvious she was still an enigma amongst the village. No amount of food would be enough to fatten her naturally slender frame. Where many of the Huron women were short and plump like forest turkeys, Robin was lean and of slightly taller build. She was still ghastly pale by their standards, her flaming red hair only exasperating her complexion. The warm sun had only brought out the occasional freckles dotted along the bridge of her nose. She didn't tan very easily, much to Magua's annoyance. It made it difficult when French trappers and merchants visited the village for trade. They would spot Robin a mile away and plagued the War Chief with questions. With aggressive indifference he advised them to cease their intrusive meddling. The traders, wishing to maintain their profit and good relations, dropped the matter quickly. Bounties for rescued white captives often accumulated into little more than pocket money. And all those men had on their minds had been the procuring of profit.

Robin had actually seen very little of Magua him-self. Every so often she would catch a glimpse of him, walking through the village, observing the young warriors sparring, or sitting in council with the elderly veterans, whose glory days were long behind them. Every so often he would come to Yunyeno, with a handful of freshly killed rabbits and wild birds. Robin thought it was strange, but possibly not unusual. Perhaps the Great War Chief was simply honouring the village Medicine Man with a casual tribute, like many others did…but this was different. Whilst those leaving tribute would simply leave the offerings outside unattended, Magua would stay close by, watching and waiting until his tribute was acknowledged and taken into the wigwam with Yuneyno's approval. Every time Robin would be the one to take it inside, under Yunyeno's instruction. Though she was suspicious, she obeyed.

Perhaps it is because Yuneyno is old, and there is no one to hunt for him. I could hunt for him…She then laughed at her-self…Magua would never let me near a rifle. He's probably say something like 'Huron women have no need for weapons. Huron men hunt. Huron men fight.'.

A Huron woman's life was a hard one, but also one of resource. Whilst in the company of the village women one afternoon, Robin had watched one woman constantly attending to a cooking pot, filled to the brim with a meaty broth that had been stewing for days. The heat kept the stew from rotting and every so often bowls would be served and the cooking pot would be restocked with fresh meat and vegetables. It was the first thing Robin learned to cook. After three unsuccessful times, Yunyeno finally deemed it barely edible. He still ate it none the less, to spare Robin's feelings. He knew she was in a delicate stage in her transition. He tried to do as little as possible to discourage her and hinder the process of her assimilation. So far things had gone well. She was slowly gaining the acceptance of the village woman…Through trial and error.

The women had begun teaching her the tricks of the trade. One aspect was teaching her the grisly task of gutting and skinning the animals. With predatory like precision they knew exactly where to cut to insure the blood spilled neatly, with clotting or much mess. Robin wasn't that successful. It took practised skill and keen eyes. Tawendeh repeatedly showed her again and again, insistent that until she could perform the task without fault, she would always be the one to drain the blood. Gutting the animal was much easier, but needed to done quickly so that the bile in the animal's stomach did not leak and ruin the good meat. For now she would simply watch, and hopefully learn.

She returned to Yunyeno's wigwam not long after, surprised to see him scurrying around the wigwam, straightening things up and laying out his best blankets and furs. This was something out of character as Yunyeno was a man of humble pride, never one to flaunt or show off. He welcomed her with what seemed like exciting news.

"Guest is coming"

That peaked Robin's interest. They had never had a guest round for dinner. She wondered aloud, "Who is it?"

Yunyeno sipped at the stew on the fire, testing the flavour. "Great War Chief" He answered, deeming it acceptable.

"Magua?" Robin said, slightly taken back. "Why he come?"

Choosing his words careful Yunyeno muttered "For meal. What else? Poor man has no wife to cook for him"

"Then Magua should learn to cook for Magua" Robin looked unconvinced. "That all he come for?" She suddenly frowned, deeply unhappy with the possibility of his presence. She waited for a response. Yunyeno did not give her one, much to Robin's annoyance. She would never admit it but she missed the arguments she had with Magua. At least they entertained her. Sighing with discontent she helped prepare the wigwam. She needed something to distract her. She even turned to her horrid quilling in an attempt to keep her fidgeting hands busy. Why was she getting so worked up at the prospect of seeing Magua? A man who, by any standards, deserved her distain. She pondered on this for many hours. After some time, she wondered if he was coming at all. Only the light of the fire kept darkness away.

But Magua did come, entering the wigwam once the moon had begun its nightly journey across the starry sky. The flap of the wigwam was left unopened, letting him know he was welcome to enter without issue. Robin was still quilling, unsuccessfully, in the corner. She hadn't heard him enter; he was that silent, that skilful. He just remained standing, silently observing her. It seemed she was trying to quill a garment of her own, perhaps a shirt. She still refused to wear the buckskin dress Tawendeh had made, he noted. He wondered why Yunyeno allowed this. He had even heard the old dog had humoured his new daughter by making a trade with one of the local boys. He gave a lucky talisman, in exchange for a spare pair of small buckskin leggings. She looked like she was wearing one of Yunyeno's shirts now, figured with a string of leather round her waist. Her copper red hair slowly began to grow out; barely noticeable at the moment, but growing none the less. This pleased him. Her hair was wavy, and bounced with every moment, unlike Huron women's hair, which was always black and straight. His wife…he chest tightened with pride. His soon to be, exotic, wife… He eyes took in the rest of her features, from the tip of her freckled nose to the bottom of her dainty toes.

Magua was also pleased to see Yunyeno had not relented on her footwear. There are many dangers on the forest floors; it was not wise to walk around barefoot. Eventually, after much debate, they came to an agreement. The soles of the thick leather moccasins were removed, allowing them to be strapped around her feet with scavenged pieces of ribbons, as oppose to simply slipping on like normal shoes. The moccasins went as high as her calves. Her feet still touched the ground, but they were covered from spiky thorn bushes and possible snake bites. Magua noted that she was so used to walking around barefoot that the under-skin had hardened dramatically. He could see the calloused foot pads from the way she was sitting. Dancing feet…He thought humourlessly. He had yet to see her dance. Come to think of it he had not heard her sing recently either. He frowned at the thought.

Giving up on the mess of a shirt she was trying to create Robin turned to stir the broth on the fire. Only then did she see him. He was dressed in full attire. He wore thigh-high blue dyed moccasins, with a matching blue and yellow shawl flung across his shoulders and coiled around one arm. His breech cloth was beaded and adorned with traded foreign charms, much like the ones tangled in his scalp lock and hooked in his pierced ears. One engraved silver band was coiled on his right arm. It complimented the black grouse feathers stitched into his hair. A respectable Huron woman avoided the direct gaze with a Huron brave. Robin knew this, and yet she held his. Magua merely chuffed at her usual antics. He sat him-self down at the fire when Yunyeno gestured for him to do so, without so much as a word to Robin. For days no word had passed between them, and now to being so close only caused tension.

But the meal was otherwise pleasant. Magua and Yunyeno spoke intermittently during the meal, mostly general chit chat of little interest. Another Huron custom; it was considered rude to rush conservation. Every so often the two men just exchanged glances whilst Robin sat a side in muted annoyance. The men always ate first. She was to sit there quietly and wait. Her teeth clenched painfully at the thought. Usually Yunyeno allowed her to eat with him, a huge gesture on his part. But they were in the presence of company, the Great War Chief Magua. Social rules had to be obeyed. She scoffed at her-self. Obedience was not a virtue amongst the gypsy people of her clan. She was so ireful that she jumped when Magua tapped at her shoulder, lifting his empty bowl, almost expectantly. He looked as if he was testing her.

She pouted, reluctant to serve him at all. Her face turned red like an angry plum. Yunyeno only chuckled and continued to eat. His adoptive daughter's antics amused him to no end.

But Robin felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand she didn't want to dishonour Yuneyno with her behaviour, though he honestly didn't seem to mind. On the other, she didn't want Magua to think she had now grown submissive in his absence. When Magua impatiently waved his bowl at her, Robin stormed out of the wigwam in flat out refusal. "Serve yourself!" She hissed, marching down to the river, throwing stones into the water to vent her frustrations. She swore every curse under the moon. He just makes me so angry sometimes… and yet she didn't know why. That only added more to her frustrations. Usually she always got the better of men. But Magua did not seem like any ordinary man. Not in comparison to a white man at least.

Maybe white men are just stupid…

Once she had gone Magua shook his head, indeed serving him-self another bowl full of broth. "Still too defiant…too spirited" He should have sounded angrier than he was. And yet he seemed relieved. At least her cooking is edible he thought on a lighter note. Not quite good as Tawendeh's though.

The old dog, having finished his meal, simply smoked his pipe in amusement, feeding the fire with chips of wood. "I would expect no less of my daughter." He exhaled a lung full of smoke with practiced precision.

"Why do you allow such disobedience? I expected you to be stern and strict" No he didn't, Yunyeno was as fickle as the weather. On good days he was as pleasant as a contented otter. On others he could scare off even the fiercest warriors. Perhaps the warm weather helps his bones, eases the stiffness…

Yunyeno stared longingly into the fire, smoking his deep. Finally he spoke, drawing pictures in a small patch next to the fire. "No person has the right to break another's spirit. A cruel hand will not change her. She is like water. You cannot tell water where to flow. It cuts its own path through life. The mighty mountains stand firm and do not move. The waters of the Great River go around without heed and nothing is accomplished. But the Great River can also be gentle. Water and Earth can work harmony. The earth allows for the water to run through its heart, and they become one. Equals. And from this union life is created, as vast as the forests that surrounds us"

Magua did not reply. How could he, in the face of such wisdom? He could only sit in silence, staring at the fire, trying to see what it was in the flames that captivated the old man. After some time he realised Robin would not return to the wigwam as long as he was there. He left the old man in his wigwam and went in search of Little Bird. He had a good idea where he could find her.

She was standing by the river's edge, her eyes looking wistfully distant. Her mind was elsewhere, he noted. The moon's reflection barely rippled in the calm waters. It mirrored the blue tint of her eyes. Magua could see now why the Mohawk had called her River Woman. She looked like a wayward water spirit. He imagined any moment now she would dive into the river and never resurface. And part of him knew that he would try and follow.

How do I keep a creature that doesn't want to be kept? The question continued to haunt him. He feared one day, in the near future, he would wake up and find her gone. Just as she had warned him.

No…He decided. He would find a way to make her want him. Find a way to make her want to stay. He would court her affections with gifts; woo her as any Huron would do. He would show her what sort of husband he could be. He was a great and skilful hunter. Resourceful and cunning. Where young men had youth on their side, he had experience. With newly determined zest the wily fox returned to his wigwam to fetch his musket. There was still plenty of moonlight to hunt by.

Over the coming days strange baskets had been left outside Yunyeno's wigwam. Sometimes they were filled with various fresh meats; neatly skinned and quartered. Other times they had pieces of textiles and furs. It made Robin all the more suspicious, though Yunyeno seemed unfazed; almost as if he was expecting the offerings to suddenly appear. Every few days it was the same. Robin would raise with Yunyeno early in the morning, only to find another basket had been left outside their wigwam. Robin tried constantly to catch the admirer in the act but in the late hours of the night she would reluctantly fall asleep.

The women were gathered in the heart of the village, quilling and stitching, as it was becoming too warm in the day for heavy chores. Robin had brought with her a cloth of brilliant colours, obviously traded from outside the village. Yet another gift left by her admirer. The Huron women stared in awe at the fine fabric, offering many items for an exchange. Tawendeh shooed them away and insisted Robin stitch her-self something out of the fabric. Her feminine craft skills were appalling, even with practice. Robin decided to make something easy, a simple head scarf with frayed edge detail…But even that proved difficult, much to everyone's amusement.

After some time Tawendeh finally spoke, evaluating the piece of material from afar. It was clearly of French origins. "Magua has begun his courtship" She noted. The Great War Chief was becoming a spectre, disappearing from the village from time to time, with only his most trusted warriors. He went off to French forts and visited nearby allied tribes, still making his presence known as the Great War Chief of the Huron people. And every time he came back he had brought something back with him. An exotic token which no other Huron man could offer. Although no other men had approached Robin with open interest, Magua was none the less eagle eyed from any competition.

Robin jarred her head up like a rabbit. "Courtship? What - OW!" She pricked her-self again, losing her concentration.

Tawendeh nodded absently, focusing on her own stitching. "Accepting these gifts mean you accept his courtship" She then laughed at Robin's comical disbelief.

She shot up from the ground, as if she had just been snared. "No one tell me!" All the other women burst into a fit of giggles. It must be amusing to them to torture a soon to be, but anxious, bride.

Doesn't take much to amuse them…She huffed, flinging her quill stitching aside.

Retrieving the piece of the cloth from the ground, Tawendeh tsked. "Calm your-self, Tis'tenha. You knew this day would come. Be grateful you are worth such a bridal price. Most men would not pay for such a skinny wife"

I'm not that skinny…Robin thought, subconsciously running hands over her underdeveloped hips as she began to pace. She quickly changed the subject. "That is all? He give Yunyeno gifts and we married?" Surely it wasn't that simple…she hoped. Anxiously she looked around, half expecting Magua to jump out and carry her off like a conquering hero.

But to her limited relief, Magua was nowhere in sight, and Tawendeh was shaking her head "No, no... Courtship takes months. Maybe end of summer you get married. Not getting any younger" Tawendeh playfully swatted Robin's rump as she paced passed.

"I'm 20!" If her counting was correct. Give or take a few years.

Again Tawendeh and the other women laughed. "Ha, almost a spinster. I already birthed Anue by then"

"Until then, he just leaves gifts? No…love songs? No dances?" She didn't seem too impressed.

But her disfavour seemed unfounded to the other women. Tawendeh was blinking at her, as if Robin was touched in the head. "He is war chief. Only songs he sings are for war."

"And Magua does not have good singing voice" One of the other women chirped, inciting more laughter.

Robin pouted in rueful discontent, seeing as her plight was quickly becoming a mockery. "This not how my people marry" She sat back down, arms crossed in irritation

"You are Huron now, we are your people. And this is how things are done." Tawendeh reminded, resuming with her own flawless quill stitch work. Robin sulked back to Yunyeno's wigwam, only to find yet another offensive offering had been left.

She approached with dread. Yunyeno was already outside, contently smoking his pipe. He was obviously waiting for her return, as he already knew this offering was for Robin alone. Magua's gifts were becoming more personal and directed. He left a hair comb, carved from oceanic shell. It was beautiful, finer than any silver comb she had once wanted. Though lovely she dare not touch it, for fear she would become enthralled.

Yunyeno picked it up and inspected it in the light. "Very pretty. But I have no hair. Is not for me" Jokingly he passed it to her, awaiting her own judgement.

She took the comb as she sat down beside him, fingering the natural ridges and carved teeth as she spoke, "My hair is not any longer" She tried to mask her obvious delight. She was a magpie at heart, she liked lovely things as they were often hard to come by.

"Is getting longer" He noted, patting her head affectionately. He then noted how displeased his comment had made her. "You are not happy with this?"

When she didn't reply, he looked at her more closely. "I see conflict in you"

Robin knew the old dog would not give up the bone that interested him. He would continue to pester her. Finally, after much debate, she relented with a haughty sigh, "I change, I defeated…don't want change. You good to me, Yunyeno. Am grateful. But am stubborn" She gave a hopeless shrug, with an apologetic smile.

He nodded at the revelation. Restocking his pipe, he thoughtfully spoke aloud, "Animals change to survive. Change is not bad." He recalled that, "Brother Wolf once hunted alone, many moons ago. Now he hunts in pack."

Absently shaking her head Robin muttered, "I change now, I no change back. I lose much"

"But gain much" He replied. "A family. A husband"

Robin gave an unladylike snort, "No want husband."

"No want Magua for husband? You prefer another warrior?"

Awkwardly, she fidgeted, discarding the suggestion. "I…like Magua…how he was" She looked embarrassed to admit it.

"What was he?"

"Enemy…" Again she shrugged, though a small smile played on her lips. She looked away , trying to hide it.

Yunyeno chuckled, shaking his head at her child like actions. "Not best word for future husband"

"Can think of no better word" She stood up, ready to prepare their dinner, but Yunyeno stopped her.

"Maybe you should call him 'friend' "

Elsewhere, concealed under the cover and darkness and woodlands, two shrieking creature bickered on whilst others slept. Che'estaheh was once again trying to calm his violate lover. She had flown into one of her emotional fits. "Ji'yah, hear me, sweet one. You know I only have eyes for you" He had hoped they would enjoy a pleasurable roll in the long grass, not arguing over old matters. Had he have known an angry devil cat was about to pounce on him, he would have just stayed in his wigwam and slept. He huffed, unamused with her moody antics. He just watched with little interest as she paced, hauling abuse and accusations with every step.

"You liar! You Scoundrel! I have heard the gossip! You have been leering at that white witch! Magua's scrawny woman!"

His head perked up. "En'ita?" He didn't bother to hide his interest, much to Ji'yah vexation.

She jerked to a halt, jaw clenched in utter displeasure. "Aiieee! You have a name for her!?"

Amongst many tribes names were a very personal and intimate matter. A person could have many names given onto them by many different people such as family, friend, enemies, and even lovers. The very mention of the name only fuelled her rage. She renewed her rampant shrieking, stamping her feet and flinging her fists about the air.

Che'estheh groaned. I should have just stayed in my wigwam. No rump is worth this much trouble.

But quickly he tried to cover his obvious blunder. "Only in opposition to you. You are great sun woman. She is but the lowly moon in comparison"

"How dare you compare us at all" She spat venomously.

"You have nothing to fear, from her or any woman"

"You not see what she has done to me?" She cupped her still bruised, but now deflated eye. "I am scarred for life!" She exaggerated of course, seeking reassurance.

Her dispassionate lover however half-heartedly patted her cheek. "You shall heal, foolish woman. Your face shall be grand again"

"But still not grand enough to be your wife?" She said, crossing her arms in a huff. This wasn't the first time she had brought up the matter.

"Ji'yah…" Che'estheh groaned again with renewed frustrations.

Again she brought up his many unfulfilled promises, flinging them at him like sharp daggers. "Two summers you have been promising to marry me. Yet still I live with old widows and pregnant sows"

He threw his hands up in exasperation, looking for an plausible excuse. "I tell you before; I have no standing for such a great woman. Magua prevents me...Magua always prevents me" He always blamed Magua for his failings. It was simply easier to accept than admitting the fault was with him-self.

Jiy'yah wouldn't stand for it. She marched up to the loathsome brave, "Then do something, or I will marry another. My children need a father. I need a husband. Not just a bed mate" She then retreated, casting a condescending gaze over her shoulder. "Or do you desire another?"

Rolling his eyes in disinterested he inquired, "Who could possibly make my eyes stray from you?"

"A witch…" She hissed, rubbing the side of her face. It throbbed painfully at the mere thought of Robin. Her fists balled in anger.

Che'estaheh approached her once more, taking her hands into his own. "Calm your temper woman. I have a plan." The glint in his eye spoke of much promise.

"What sort of plan?" She looked doubtful. Che'estaheh was notorious for his ill-fated plans. Something always went wrong, one way or another. Although he possessed a crafty mind, much like his brother's, his youth made him reckless and brash. He would charge into battle without first analysing the consequences of his position. It was a miracle he hadn't been killed yet. Those brushes with death only made him bolder.

"A plan that will make me a Great Chief. Greater than Magua. Then I shall make you my fine wife. But you must just be patient, my sun woman." His almost feral sneer reminded Ji'yah of a starved wolf, anticipating a meal.

Despite her better nature Ji'yah instantly melted at such promises, snaking her willowy arms around his broad shoulders, embracing him tightly as she had often done before. "Oh, promise me, Che'estaheh. Promise me, my love, that I shall never know hungry. My children shall never be cold. That your eyes will never stray"

"I promise" He said almost absently, staring over her shoulder, whilst kissing her neck. he looked over at the village, eyes searching for someone that apparently wasn't there. He abruptly pulled away, composing him-self. "I must leave the village for a while. But know that when I return, I shall herald in our fortune." With that cryptic message, he departed, returning briefly to his wigwam to retrieve his rifle and provisions. Jiy'yah watched him slink away into the night, all the while cupping the small bump on her belly. She didn't know what exactly he had planned, but she hoped it would at least prove fruitful. She was slowly getting older, she could only rely on her beauty and body for so long. She needed a man, she needed the security. But she wasn't going to settle for anything less than the best. And at that time, Che'estaheh was her best bet. a risky one, but one that may yield more favour. Certainly more than her previous husband. She grit her teeth at the mere thought of him. An incompetent man...

Huffing with unwanted memories Ji'yah returned to the women's long house, careful as not to disturb the other women and her own sleeping children. There were numerous old women there, snoring and snorting loudly in their sleep. Other children whined and gurgled in their sleep whilst their mothers slept nearby. There were at least 30 of them, all sharing the one living space. everyone was involved with each other's business, there was no privacy. It meant Ji'yah could not run off with handsome young warriors as often as she'd like to, for fear of judgement by the other widows and councilwomen. But once Che'estaheh returned, and his so called plan works, he will marry her, and they will move into their own wigwam, and it will be the biggest in the whole village. So big they won't know what to do with the space.

Her little fantasy was cut short when one of the other women, in their sleep, absently tossed about, her foot scuffing the top of Ji'yah head. Usually she would have thrown her-self into a rage but she had exhausted her-self berating Che'estaheh. Maybe in the morning she would suddenly kick the woman back, even if said woman didn't know what she had done. Ji'yah was just that type of woman. She strikes when one least expects it.

A/N - so any thoughts ? yes ? no ? maybe ? ? ? ? let me know !