Young Writers Society

Dark Fox's men whooped and cried with triumph as they picked up the pace and continued to move towards the now limping figure. The boy hung back a little bit while the others raced down the hill. He watched through vengeful, narrowed eyes as it move away desperately. He then charged down after it as well. The other warriors jumped around the figure, trapping it in a circle.

Dark Fox pushed his way through and examined the now clear figure. It was a girl - the girl he had seen earlier, that Windtail had approached. He said a few words to her in his native language - words that she clearly could not understand. He then looked over at one of his warriors and gave a sharp nod. A couple of men jumped up behind the girl and each grabbed one of her arms. She began to struggle, but the men continued to pull her along.

Dark Fox followed shortly behind them and made sure to keep an eye on their hostage. He was unsure of what his father would think, or what the other white people would do when they learned of her capture, but he was determined not to let her go. To show the pale faces exactly what his people thought of the invasion of their land.

Storm struggled against the arms that were binding her, another set forcing her to walk as the young indian man, around her age, glared at her vengefully. His eyes were full of hate and anger. A whip of fear ran down her spine as his eyes seemed to stare into her very sould. Where was Blade when she needed him?!

Glancing up, she realized they were getting closer to the camp. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and forced her tears away. Her blue eyes gazed into the searing fire in the middle of the campsite as they got closer, her fear rising.

When they got to the circle of grass around the camp, Storm began to struggle. "Let me go!" She screamed, know they wouldn't understand her. Her ankle was searing in pain and tears had begun to make their way down her face. "I've done nothing to you I tell you! Let me go!"

The warriors became antsy as their hostage struggled more and more with every move they made toward the camp. Dark Fox tried to settle them as best he could. Though he wanted nothing more than to kill this girl as a warning, he didn't dare allow any harm to become her until his father could have a say.

A fire was now blazing in the middle of the camp. A black mass was huddled in front of it, peering out toward the approaching men and their captive, trying to get a good look and see what was going on. Windtail bounded out to them. She came running, but slowed immediately when she recognized the girl. She jumped to the side and watched them walk by. Their similarly colored eyes locked as they passed directions.

The warriors guiding the girl pushed her on, and the stare was broken. Windtail shook her head, as if to wake herself up, then ran up to Dark Fox. He paid no mind to her. He was anxious to get back and talk to his father; to get the permission to send a warning to all white men who passed through their land uninvited.

The faces of his people became much clearer as they neared the camp. They were all straining to see the girl. Kicking Bull was waiting for them by the fire. The men dropped the girl at his feet and she cried out in anguish as she fell hard on a swollen ankle. She looked up at him as Windtail began to smell her and get a feel for the newcomer. Her white tail wagged on and off as she did so. Kicking Bull looked from the girl to Dark Fox and back again.

**Sorry Rayne, my computer crashed, and has to be re-done now D':**

Storm looked around, fearfully. The wolf, who had gazed at Storm with such... knowing, nudged her jaw gently, whimpering lowly and rasping her pink tongue across Storm's ear. The girl swallowed hard, shaking the wolf off with kind rejection, afraid that any other movement would anger the natives. The bear tooth necklace, from one of the friendly native tribes near Storm's old home was digging into her skin as she tightened her arms, which were already wrapped around her tightly.

The chief, headdress and all, walked over, raising a hand. The whooping and hollering came to a cease, and he reached down slowly. Storm flinched away, eyes closed tightly. The older, much older, man took her chin gently, his grip still like steel, and gently pulled her head up. His brown eyes gazed into her crystal blue ones before his hand reached down farther.

The chief grabbed the bear tooth necklace, pulling it up. With it, came Storm, standing feebly to her feet. The chief turned to a young man and spit out some words. The man ran off, and soon returned with a feeble-looking woman, who squinted at Storm, and quickly picked up her pace, shouting words that seemed like a mix between rage and admiration. Storm let out a cry when the medicine woman raised her woven stick, and delivered a sharp rap on Storm's skull.

Slowly, Storm's surroundings got duller and duller until finally... she was in darkness.

Okay! I'm back now!

Dark Fox hung back a little and watched with distrust and disapproval as his father looked over the hostage. He turned to a man beside him.

"Run and get Te'kana," he said to him in his gruff voice.

The man nodded and raced off to find the elderly medicine woman. They both came back seconds later. Te'kana used her long walking stick to help her along. It was adorned with beautiful beads and feathers and necklaces that the woman used to perform her spells and incantations. The boy could barely hear the conversation between the woman and the young man.

"We caught her not far from here. She fell, and her walk is very weak, and--"

"And you wait this long to get me?!" Te'kana interrupted.

Her arms flailed through the air as she tried to run desperately towards the girl, shouting angrily as she did. When she reached her, she glanced over her for a couple seconds, shouted a one or two-word spell, and knocked the girl over the head with her walking stick. The girl cried out, then slowly fainted. The men holding her lowered her to the ground gently, then picked her up and carried her to Te'kana's tent. Dark Fox walked up to his father once they had gone inside.

Without looking away from the scene, Kicking Bull spoke. "The white men are not all untrustworthy," he said.

"I don't believe it," his son responded, also watching Te'kana's tent mindlessly. "They invade our lands, kill our food, and give nothing back. They do not deserve to be here, and should be punished as so."

Kicking Bull's eyes narrowed, but he still did not move them. "If your mind cannot be changed, I fear for the future of our tribe." Then, finally, he looked at his son, sternly, and with great disappointment.

Dark Fox looked at his father in surprise, but remained silent. He didn't believe it to be true, that their tribe would perish should it need to fall into his hands. But perhaps not all of the white men were not to be trusted, and they were not all out for the same things. Regardless, he reserved judgement on this newcomer, and wanted nothing to do with her until his father had decided that they no longer had a use for her.