리틀팍스

I was strolling around the Blue Wilderness when I heard a howl of an animal which I could not identify. It was like yipping, a dog barking in fear, but also like a squeal of a pig. 

 I had once seen a pig when it was brought here by the Yankees to be slaughtered. They ordered my mother to prepare the pig for their evening feast. So the pig was brought to our house in a small wooden cage that just allowed the pig to stand up and sit down. The pig did very little, but my brothers and I were still facinated by the fat creature that we had never seen before. Well, until we came to sleep with it. It squealed all throughout the night, and my family didn't got a descent snooze until the day came and the pig was digested by the Yankees. Tigerfang was delighted that we could finally sleep in peace, but I felt sorry for the small creature.

 The ignorant look in the pig's eyes when my mother finished it's miserable life are still vivid in my mind. It was always squealing but the last moment of it's life. It had a dazed look on its face as the life in him was sucked out and never to return - did the Yankees know that they were eating a harmless, innocent creature that had done nothing wrong to them? I would never knew, and even if I do, I would never understand. 

 We, our tribe, eat to survive, not for contentness or satisfaction. Alas, would I ever understand the happiness of eating a creature that has it's own mind like us? Maybe that was the best ending for that poor pig which came to my house. If it had not came here, maybe it would've suffer much more. But would it not had been better if they had let the pig enjoy its life before it got digested, not kept in a small cage, waiting to be slaughtered? 

 From then on, I believed that the pig's spirit roamed the wilderness at night, where there was nothing to stop him. That he would experience the freedom it had not felt when it was living. That it would forgive us in doing so... My thoughts never stopped to wonder what would have happened to the pig if I had let it go. Could that had been better for the small creature? I would never know.

 I strained my ears to pick up the sound again, and after a tense silence, it howled again. Then it struck me. A boar! The sound I heared was not howling, but the cry of the wild boar. I soundlessly headed toward the cry, knowing that if I could capture it, I could breed it. Moosecurve would be delighted to breed a wild boar. If I could catch it, I might be able to breed it. Moosecurve always wanted a wild boar to breed... I grimaced at the name. Moosecurve. The memory of the previous day suddenly jumped into my head. Moosecurve and the Yankee woman crashing their heads into one another. I shook my head vigorously. I was not here to remember about Moosecurve, but the very opposite. I was trying to wipe that scene from my head. I had concluded that a night stroll would do the job. The cool Autumn breeze had always calmed when I was troubled. 

 The grass bristled. It had almost reached my shoulder. The good thing about tall grass is that it is easy to take cover or hide. The bad thing is that it also hides the victim I'm targeting, so it is easy to lost track of the victim. I was slightly worried because my father had warned me about going deeper into the Blue Wilderness. But my eagerness to catch the wild boar was strong, and I decided to pursue the wild animal. 

 The cry became louder and clearer when the tall grass came to a stop. I looked around, and noticed a small wooden house. I ventured toward it. The house was small, and it was very dusty. It had one window, one door, and one small box on top of the roof that spit out white gas now and then. This looked like a normal house, though the box with the gas made me feel a little bit suspicious. But I had no time to ponder on that thought. As soon as I took one step toward the door, it creeked open.

 My heart did a flip-flop as I stared at the door. But the door did not go further. I took a deep breathe and walked toward the door and peeked inside. Nobody was in the house. That gave me courage to open the door wider. Now I could see the interior of the house. It had a wooden bed, a wooden chair, a wooden cabinit, and a wooden box that had fire growing inside it. Wow, I thought. This house would be ashes if some of this wooden furniture caught on fire. After a thorough search of the house, I found out that the wood that was used to build these furnitures could be found near the village. That gave me a chill, knowing that the owner of this house was capable to attack our village if possible, though that wouldn't be so likely. Well, to consider it in a more "mature" manner, a Yankee probably wouldn't attack us; unless that Yankee is crazy. Our village, or more likely, our reservation, is heavily guarded by Yankees. Even though it had been more easy-going these days, the guards are always on alert. And a tribesman would never attack us. Actually, they are trying to convince us to fight beside them; they've been hiding their letters between the garbage area number 7. Laughingtiger's son, Eaglenerve has been collecting those letters recently and handing them around the village.

 That topic had been on discussion for tons of weeks, along with who Laughingtiger would pass the cheif title to. He had been getting weaker these days, so everybody is anxious who would get the title. I have considered it myself, wondering how it would be if Moosecurve or Tigerfang became cheif. For Moosecurve, our lives won't be so different from now. Well, not if he goes too far, like trying to befriend the Yankees. Then the tribespeople would stand opposite from Moosecurve, and there would be fights to elect a new cheif. For Tigerfang... to be honest, I don't really know. He has such a personality that I wouldn't be surprised if I find him dead on our doorstep oneday. He might fight the Yankees, drag us into great danger, or... well, anything's possible with Tigerfang. 

 But to be honest, I reel kind of bad for the new cheif. Usually, the current cheif would help the next cheif's training. But in this situation, the new cheif must stand alone, with nobody at his side. 

 Oh, wait, what am I talking about. Well, to go back to my situation, I was in so much trouble. I didn't want to face the endless scoldings of the village when they found out I had gone out of the village, but I was not brave enough to face this danger by my own. I debated on this for a moment. Either to go back, and face my father, or to stay. I finally decided to just go back. To be logical, it was much more wiser for me to go back, and risk my pride but keep my life rather than to stay, risking my life, but keeping my pride. I reached for the door, but it swung open before I could grab the door knob.

 I was sturtled and looked up, and I came face to face with a girl I had never seen before. She looked a bit like the Yankee woman, but unlike her who, from afar, could be mistaken as a mistreated tribeswoman, the new girl looked nothing like our tribes people. From her navy pants to some kind of clothing that let the girl's arm completely vulnerable, her clothing was nothing more than completely different from what I wore. Her face was something too; I stared at her bright yellow hair and dark blue eyes. No doubt, but I had just encountered a Yankee. 

 "Ah!" I let out a astounded cry when the girl marched up to me. She put down the lantern she was holding. I watch her pull up her hair and tie it with a stretchy band. I pulled out my pocket knife and pointed it at the Yankee girl. "D-don't move!" I said. The Yankee girl took a glimpse of my trembling hand and "smirked". Yes, she actually had this smug look on her face. I felt a sudden urge of anger creeking out of me as the Yankee girl twirled her hair. I grasped the knife's handle as she came closer. Then out of the blue, her fist came flying toward me, and before I could react, everything went black.