Moon Dancer, Earth Song

"They are coming!" She screamed.

The relentless sun was beating over the range to the east.

It shone crudely through the tall woods.

She arose with a start and peered off toward the direction of their cries.

The war chants had awakened her.

There was a steady breeze to the morning air and the birds of the high redwoods were aflutter. The twilight of an enchanted former evening had vanished quickly and the relentless sun through the high canopy had pierced Moon Dancer's sleepy gaze. He heard her rustling about in the nearby thicket searching for her things. He told her to quiet down, that there was no need for such noise.

She hammered his wide chest with both fists balled and cursed him, scream-whispering, for leaving the horses by the brook and gallivanting off to the edge of the woods to an unfamiliar region this time.

Ignited and provoked, he scraped his temples with curled fingers to calm and gather his nerve. The soil was soft beneath them and there was a still air among the ferns emanating the morning dew.

The mist was thick and fresh in the morning and the sun beamed out from the horizon in the east, stronger now. Footsteps gained momentum from three different directions and the cackling language among the pursuers was unmistakably her people.

They, indeed, were coming. He closed his eyes and kneeled, pressing his hands to the Earth and opening Her spirit.

She did the same, once dressed, and they could read the distance of the nearest cult of braves who trekked briskly and silently through the trees. The other two groups were bigger and rode many trees behind the nearest. Their calls echoed through the trees shrilly and fiercely and would grow silent once their distance matched that of the nearest braves.

Her father, the chief, was among the furthest of them. His gaze was set. Fearless and painted for war, he was ready to mutilate the incorrigible Moon Dancer and his tribe.

Their speed was causing Moon Dancer to tremble frantically but when they were about two miles off, he gained himself with an instinctive focus. He was recalling their notorious tenacity and the legends of their merciless carnage in conquest.

Together they strayed north toward the brook.