For personal use and select distribution only © by Judith A., October 2006

No Greater Burden
By Judith A.

Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen

Michaela, Dorothy, and Night Crane rode their horses at a frantic pace to escape the hurrying flames. The new blaze had blocked their path, forcing them to travel back the way they had come. Blinded by stinging smoke, their hair wild, and their clothes singed, they pushed forward, refusing to be slowed down by the burning in their lungs.

With the fire's hot breath bearing down on them, they rode harder and faster. For over an hour, they pushed themselves and their horses to the northwest as hard as they dared until they made it out of the fire's direct path. Eventually, the smoky haze thinned enabling them to see each other, and the surrounding landscape, clearly once again. The danger lessened, they slowed the horses to a stop to catch their breath and examine their options.

Michaela hunched over Flash's mane, collapsing from exhaustion. She couldn't stop coughing from the smoke that had settled in her lungs. After a few more hacking coughs that shook her entire body, they finally subsided enough for her to speak. "Is…is everyone all…all right?"

Dorothy could only nod in reply as she coughed from the stinging dryness in her throat.

Night Crane didn't respond.

Michaela turned toward the young Indian woman concerned by her silence. "You're burned!" she said, alarmed.

Night Crane rubbed the smoke from her burning eyes. She glanced down at her leg, which was throbbing from the pain. "It is nothing."

"I need to clean and bandage it," Michaela said, straightening on her horse, preparing to dismount.

Night Crane stared at the fire continuing its march toward them. "We don't have time. This can wait until we are safe."

"Should we make another fire?" Dorothy asked, taking a sip of water from her canteen.

Michaela looked out at the fires in the distance. "No. With the fire splitting off into two large fires as it did, I don't think that would be wise. We were fortunate it worked the first time."

"The fire appears to be weakening," Night Crane observed, as she stared at the ominous sky. "Perhaps if we ride further north, we will find a section that's passable."

Michaela turned her gaze to the north. The sky was not as thick with smoke as it had been. "It's worth a try."

"How will we find the others?" Dorothy asked, pouring water from her canteen to wash the black ash from her face.

"First we must secure our safety; then we will find the others," Night Crane responded.

"Night Crane is right," Michaela said. "Once we're safe, I'm certain we can find our way back to Sully, Running Wolf, and the children."

"We must hurry," Night Crane said, flicking the reins to motion her horse forward.

"Do you think they're all right?" Dorothy asked with concern, as she rode up beside Michaela.

"They should be," Michaela replied. "The wagon made it through before the fire doubled back and trapped us. I'm quite certain they're safe."

"Running Wolf will be worried," Night Crane said.

"So will Sully," Michaela replied, barely audible.

The women guided their horses toward the north as the fire continued to advance behind them. Over the past hour, the wind had changed direction, losing some of its speed. With the wind no longer serving as an accelerant, the fires' strength and velocity weakened. This change of fortune allowed the women to put increasing distance between themselves and the scorching flames.

They continued to travel northward, looking for an area where they could pass. On the way, they noticed large sections of barren earth that had already been destroyed by the fire. Continuing north, they headed toward the stream that Running Wolf had mentioned. As the stream came into view, they noticed an expanse of charred terrain. It was safe to assume that the fire had passed through earlier.

"We can cross here," Michaela said, motioning for the others to follow.

All three horses turned to the right to traverse a narrow road leading to the stream. The preceding weeks without rain reduced the once mighty stream to nothing more than a shallow pond. Still, the women were overjoyed to see water. As they guided their horses closer to the banks of the stream, they could hear the sound of frogs croaking and water trickling over the rocks. At the water's edge, all three women dismounted, leaving the horses free to drink.

"Water!" Dorothy exclaimed. "Oh, am I glad to see water. I can't wait to wash up. I need to get this black soot off me and wash away the smell of smoke."

"I know what you mean," Night Crane agreed, as she brushed the ash from her clothes. The pain in her leg was searing through her body, but she tried to push it away.

Michaela retrieved her medical bag and approached Night Crane. "First, I'm going to treat your burn. Dorothy, please check for any burns or cuts. They could become infected if not treated properly."

"I will, but I'm not burnt, just dirty. I'm going down to the stream to wash up."

When Dorothy left, Michaela knelt down to examine Night Crane's leg. She gently lifted the material of her torn doeskin skirt revealing a small patch of skin on her calf that had been seared by the fire, leaving a raw, bright red wound. Michaela ripped a clean piece of material from her petticoat and dampened it with water from her canteen. Taking great care not to hurt her, she dabbed at the area to clean it. When the water touched her burn, Night Crane flinched from the pain.

"I know it stings," Michaela sympathized, as she opened her medical bag to remove an ointment. "I'm afraid this will hurt, too."

"The pain…is…bad," Night Crane uttered breathlessly. Her entire body felt drained and weak from racing the flames, inhaling smoke, and now the burn.

"I'm sorry," Michaela said, applying the ointment as gently as she could.

"I know you have to do it. I have seen your medicine work," Night Crane said, inhaling deeply. "You were always kind to my people."

Michaela tentatively raised her head to meet her gaze.

* * * * *

"I gotta do somethin'," Sully told Running Wolf. He had been sitting by the side of the wagon for over an hour, his hands wrapped around a cup of cold coffee, waiting for Michaela to return. Mostly, he was placating himself with logical explanations for why she hadn't shown up yet, because anything else was unthinkable. "I can't just sit here."

"What are you thinking?" Running Wolf asked, as he stopped in front of him. He had been walking back and forth trying to calm his crying son. It seemed nothing he did helped. New Promise was hungry and only his mother could fulfill that need.

Sully rose to his feet to face him. "It's been over an hour since they got trapped. If they could get through, they'd be here by now. So, I figure they had ta go another way. We gotta find 'em."

Running Wolf repositioned the baby on his shoulder. "Sully, we don't know which direction they headed. It's best to remain here. At least they know where we are."

"I can't do nothin'," Sully said frustrated, as he emptied his coffee on the ground. "What if they're hurt?"

"Your wife's a doctor. She can do more than either of us," Running Wolf said sensibly.

Sully loathed feeling so helpless. It went against his nature to wait around, doing nothing. "I need ta try an' find 'em."

Running Wolf patted New Promise's back. The baby had cried himself to sleep and now rested on his father's shoulder. He sympathized with the desperate look in Sully's eyes. "If they made it, they would have headed north."

"Ta the stream?"

"I believe so," Running Wolf replied.

"What are we waitin' for?" Sully said, setting the coffee cup on the back of the wagon and turning around to leave.

Running Wolf grasped his arm. "What if they're not at the stream?"

"We'll keep lookin'." Sully gazed absently toward the distant horizon.

"For how long?" Running Wolf asked, staring hard at him.

"Long as it takes. I'm not givin' up," Sully said, his voice cracking. "When I fell from a cliff and was thought dead, Michaela never gave up. She searched for me day an' night for days. I'd be dead if she'd given up."

Running Wolf let go of Sully's arm and remained silent for a long time. No words were needed to convey the meaning in the Indian's somber expression.

"They're not dead!" Sully snapped, his nerves raw and on edge.

"Sully, the flames…they were strong. There is a possibility…that they didn't…"

"No!" Sully cut him off as a sharp shiver of fear slid up his spine. "I'd know if Michaela was dead. You don't understand. I'd feel it. She's not dead." He brushed past him to ready his horse and to escape the negative thoughts. Then he turned around once more to face Running Wolf. "I'm goin', with or without you."

Running Wolf watched him for a long moment. "I'm coming with you." The Indian looked to the sky to study which way the smoke had gone. The sky was clearer toward the north. "We should head north," Running Wolf said, careful not to wake the baby as he settled him in his basket.

"Brian," Sully called, as he was unhitching his horse from the wagon.

The young man approached him, worried about what he was planning to do. "Pa?"

Me an' Runnin' Wolf are gonna look for your ma. I need you ta stay here with the kids," Sully explained, as he readied his horse.

"Sure, Pa. Where're you gonna look?"

"They probably headed north. The sky's clearin' that way. We're gonna go ta the stream. I don't know how long we'll be gone."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything here," Brian assured. "Just find Ma."

Katie and Josef came running over when they noticed their father preparing to leave. "Where you goin'? Katie asked, her lip trembling.

Sully knelt down to her level and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Kates, I'm gonna go find your Ma. I need you both ta be brave an' help Brian an' Eyes Like the Sky take care of the baby. Can ya do that for me?"

"You'll bring Mama back?" Josef asked in a tiny voice, his hands clasped behind his back.

Sully patted the top of his head. "I'll do my best."

Katie was on the verge of tears. "Don't go. I'm scared."

Sully stroked her hair. "I gotta go, sweet girl. You'll be safe here with Brian. The fire's gone."

Katie hugged him tight, petrified neither of her parents would return. Sully drew both children into his embrace.

Running Wolf approached his son. "Sully and I are going to look for your mother and the others. I need you to take care of New Promise. He's asleep in the basket."

The little boy panicked at the responsibility. "He'll start crying again when he wakes up."

"He's hungry." Running Wolf felt awful leaving him with an unhappy baby. "Have Katie help you. See if the two of you can find something he might eat until we bring your mother back."

Eyes Like the Sky nodded. "Do you think they're all right?"

Running Wolf averted his eyes. "Your mother is strong. She has survived worse."

Brian approached Running Wolf. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of them."

"Thank you," Running Wolf said, hugging his son.

"We best be goin'," Sully said, as he mounted his horse. Running Wolf climbed atop his horse and the two of them rode off disappearing into the smoky haze.

* * * * *

"Pardon me?" Michaela said, unsure of her meaning. She stared into the young woman's eyes; they were eyes that revealed more of life's struggles than her age betrayed.

Night Crane held Michaela's gaze. "When I was a young girl, I remember you brought medicine to my village. You were always so kind. I have never known such kindness from a white person."

Michaela's eyes widened as her meaning sank in. "You…you were part of Black Kettle's village?"

Night Crane nodded. "My people called you Medicine Woman."

Michaela shivered upon hearing that name again after so many years. "Black Kettle gave me that name."

"I am his niece," she told her. "You saved many lives in our village. My uncle trusted you."

"I trusted him, too," she said. Feeling overwhelmed by this revelation, Michaela lowered her eyes to finish tying the end of the bandage she had wrapped around the burn. "Why haven't you mentioned this before?"

"I wanted to wait for the right time," she told her, lowering her skirt and taking a seat on the ground. "I wasn't positive at first. It had been so many years. After all that had happened to me and my people, it seemed like another lifetime ago. I didn't trust my memories." She paused to collect her thoughts. "The more time we spent with you, I realized that I remembered Sully from our village. Then I recalled the woman doctor who brought us medicine and I thought it had to be you. I was pleased to know you married him."

Michaela's cheeks flushed. "Were we that obvious?"

"To many, yes," she said with a smile.

Michaela struggled to order the many questions that came to mind. "Was your family…?" she couldn't complete the question.

Night Crane nodded with downcast eyes. "Yes, my family was killed at the Washita."

Michaela sat down on the ground, bringing her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry." She hesitated, uncertain if she should ask her next question. "How…I
mean…what?" she stammered.

"How did I survive?"

Michaela nodded slightly, unable to voice the question.

Night Crane noticed the sober expression on her face. "I have asked that question many times. Why did I survive when so many, including my entire family, died?" She paused to take a sip of water from her canteen. "I have wondered if there was a purpose to my being spared, but if that is the case, it has not yet been revealed to me."

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen."

"Do you remember much about the battle?"

"I remember everything." As the details of that night came flooding back, she was caught up in the images of memories long ago. "On the night the Army took our village by surprise, I was asleep in our lodge. It had snowed all day and there were several feet on the ground. The night was bitter cold. My mother, her sister, my brother and I were huddled together to keep warm." Night Crane wrapped her arms around herself as if chilled. "I awoke to the sound of gunfire. My brother grabbed his bow and rushed out to help defend the camp. My mother told us to remain quiet and still. My father was with a group of men, all of whom sprang into action, grabbing rifles and charging to meet the enemy. As the soldiers grew closer, my mother ushered us out of the lodge in an attempt to escape. We ran through snow up to our knees, deeper into the woods. As we ran, my mother was shot in the back. I turned around and saw her lying on the ground, blood pooling around her. I wanted to go to her, but my aunt yelled for me to keep running. Then she, too, was shot in the back. I had never been so scared in my life. Shaking in terror and too tired to run through the snow any longer, I crawled under a bush to hide. I watched in horror as the bullets from guns and arrows from bowstrings whizzed through the air. I heard the screams of women and children grow more desperate as our brave warriors tried in vain to keep the soldiers from advancing. The gunshots, screams and cries were replaced by an unnatural quiet, as most of my people lay still, as if they were sleeping in a sea of red."

As Michaela listened to her story, her own images of the aftermath of the battle site at Washita came rushing back to her. The overwhelming sadness of that day had taken hold inside her, never having found a way out. She had tucked it away, but she had never forgotten. Wiping away her tears, she remained quiet, letting Night Crane continue.

"The soldiers then set fire to everything. They burned our lodges, destroying all the winter provisions, robes, and sacred articles."

At that moment, Dorothy returned from washing at the stream, her hair and skin clean, but her clothes were still a smoky gray. She paused behind a tree as she heard Night Crane's voice recounting her experience at Washita. As she listened to the young woman's story, her heart went out to her. She understood why Michaela had been drawn to her. Perhaps it was time to give the young woman a chance. Not wanting to intrude, Dorothy remained behind the tree listening. She had heard Michaela recount the events at Washita and had even written an article about it. But as she listened to Night Crane's story, she felt physical pain at the thought of what the Cheyenne endured and of Cloud Dancing's anguish at finding his wife murdered by soldiers. On this day Washita became real to her in a whole new way.

"What happened after the battle?" Michaela asked, twisting the frayed ends of her singed blouse. Though her curious mind wanted a first hand account of what happened, she wasn't entirely certain she was prepared for what she might hear.

"There were about fifty of us who survived. Most were women, children and old ones. The Army rounded us up and took us away like a herd of cattle to Camp Supply. What I remember most was the cold. My hands and feet were frozen to the bone. We were walking through snow, without warm robes or blankets. Many of the young ones couldn't keep up and kept falling down in the snow. I picked up a small child and carried her on my back the rest of the way. Her parents had been killed as well. We were given nothing to eat."

Michaela's body trembled from the inhumanity. "It must have been awful for you."

"I never felt so alone. My parents were dead, my brother was dead, and my uncle, the greatest man I had ever known, was dead. I was scared. I cried all night long. That's when the old woman, White Thunder, named me Night Crane. The Crane is a symbol of sorrow and tears. I embraced my new name. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. Golden Feather had died at the Washita, and was replaced by Night Crane."

Dorothy emerged from behind the tree and walked toward her horse, trying not to disturb the conversation between Night Crane and Michaela. She felt like an unwanted third party.

Michaela noticed how uncomfortable Dorothy appeared, but it wasn't her place to ask her friend to join them. She glanced at Night Crane and again at Dorothy.

"Dorothy," Night Crane called. "Please join us."

Dorothy was searching her saddlebags for something to eat. The women hadn't eaten since morning. She turned toward Night Crane. "Oh, I don't want to intrude."

Night Crane waved her over. "After surviving that fire together, I don't have any secrets from either of you. Please, sit down."

"Night Crane was about to tell me what happened to her after Washita. She is one of the survivors."

Dorothy brought her hand to her chest. "Oh, my."

"Where did you go afterward?" Michaela's tone was sympathetic.

"Camp Supply." Night Crane looked out across the plains wrestling with her painful memories.

Michaela reached for her hand and squeezed it. "You don't have to go on."

Night Crane met her eyes. "I do. I need to tell what happened." Though her story was known to the people in her village, she had only ever told it out loud to her husband. Out here, she hoped that by sharing it with new friends, she could make it more manageable. Perhaps by wrapping it in words, she might finally be able to fold it away.

Michaela and Dorothy sat with rapt attention waiting for the young woman to continue.

"Our life at Camp Supply was difficult. After surviving the massacre by the Army, many of my people succumbed to disease. Some of the soldiers treated us kindly, even though we were prisoners, but others were cruel. They denied us food and medical care." She stopped for a moment, finding it more difficult than she expected to give voice to memories that still held such pain. "One day, I decided to take a walk to the river. I needed to think about what had happened. On my way back, a soldier stopped me. He spoke to me, but at that time, I didn't understand or speak English. When I tried to go around him to return to camp, he grabbed my arm." She drew her knees up, hugging them with her arms, careful to avoid the burn on her leg. "Before I knew what was happening, he pushed me to the ground and he was on top of me."

Dorothy gasped, knowing what was coming.

"He ripped my clothes and touched in me places no one ever had before. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth with his hand. When I bit him, he slapped me. I tried to move, to get him off me, but I couldn't. He was too strong." Night Crane was recounting her story as if in a trance. There was no emotion on her face and her voice was flat. "When he finished, he left me lying on the ground. For many years after, I could still smell the stench of alcohol and stale tobacco. I curled up and cried, never feeling so ashamed. I vowed no one would find out about my dishonor."

Michaela finally let out the breath she was holding. "It wasn't your fault. You…you were raped."

"In time I came to understand that," she replied. "But, that wasn't the only time."

"What do you mean?" Dorothy asked.

"For several weeks after that, every few nights, men came to take me to him. I felt dirty and ashamed. No one did anything to stop it. We weren't people to many of the soldiers. By the time we were moved to the reservation in the Oklahoma territory, I was with child. I couldn't keep the shame from my people any longer." Night Crane took a deep breath, relieved to be finished.

"Surely, they understood it wasn't your fault," Michaela said, full of compassion.

"Most of them did. Many women were treated the same. Still, it was difficult for Eyes Like the Sky. Even though no one blamed me, it didn't change the fact that my son had the blood of a white soldier inside him. The children teased him and many people distrusted him."

"He was only an innocent child," Dorothy said in sympathy.

"Eyes Like the Sky had trouble making friends. You know him. He is a quiet child. He is ashamed of his white half. After a time, I thought it would be best if we left the Indian Agency. We escaped with several families to the north to start a new life. It was hard for him there, too. He spent most of his time alone in the woods. That's where he met Running Wolf."

"He met Running Wolf?" Michaela questioned with a slight smile on her face.

"Yes. Running Wolf lived on his own between the Cheyenne and Crow lands. He also preferred to spend much of his time alone. I have always believed Eyes Like the Sky could have been Running Wolf's son. They are so alike."

"I always felt the same way about Sully and Brian," Michaela concurred.

"A bond began to form between them. Running Wolf taught my son to hunt and track. At first I was concerned about how close the two of them were becoming. I didn't want Eyes Like the Sky to be hurt. But, after a time, the three of us started spending time together."

"And you fell in love?" Dorothy finished for her.

"It wasn't as easy as that," Night Crane clarified.

"It never is," Michaela said knowingly.

"Running Wolf is Crow, an enemy of the Cheyenne. I vowed to raise my son Cheyenne. I told myself I could never be with someone who wasn't Cheyenne. To make it even more complicated, we were both haunted by our pasts. I was afraid of getting close to a man. He was afraid of my knowing aspects of his past. We both pushed each other away."

"But, somehow you worked it out," Dorothy assumed.

"It took many years of friendship. Slowly we both gave in to our growing feelings. We decided to let the past rest and build a new life together off the reservations. Running Wolf is the kindest, most honorable man I have ever known."

"How long have you been married?" Michaela asked.

"Over two years. After New Promise was born, we decided to return to the reservation to raise our children in the ways of their Cheyenne grandfathers."

"It will be difficult."

"Even more than you know," she replied.

* * * * *

After the women were clean and rested, they left the stream to ride south in a different direction, eager to find their way back to their loved ones. They rode through monotonous miles of charred grass, and as night was beginning to suggest itself, they picked up their pace, fearful of losing their way in the darkness. The rumbling in their stomachs reminded them it had been hours since any of them had eaten.

"Now what?" Dorothy asked, as they slowed their horses in an area that looked the same in all directions. The ground was flat and burnt for as far as the eye could see.

"I'm afraid I didn't pay enough attention to how we'd get back," Michaela said, looking out toward the horizon. It was bathed in the last throw of golden light.

"We were too busy trying to escape the flames," Night Crane reasoned, as she, too, couldn't decide on a direction to head.

"We just have to pick a way and trust it," Dorothy said, though she didn't have the faith to decide.

"I see something," Night Crane announced, as she squinted her eyes. "Someone's coming."

"Where?" Dorothy said, shielding her eyes from the setting sun. "I don't see anything."

"Sully," Michaela breathed. She recognized her husband by the way his hair moved in the wind when he was riding fast.

"You sure?" Dorothy asked.

"I see Running Wolf, too," Night Crane said, taking off toward the two riders. Michaela and Dorothy followed close behind.

"Do you see what I see?" Running Wolf said, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

"They're all right," Sully replied. Intense relief washed over him as he pushed his horse faster.

The five horses moved closer to each other across the plains. It seemed to take forever to close the distance between them. Sully was halfway off of his horse before it came to a full stop. He ran to Michaela to help her to the ground. She looked into his eyes with barely a hint of emotion and then fell into his arms. Feeling safe at last, she laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms tightly around his back. His heart was pounding as he crushed her to his chest. No words were spoken as the two of them just held onto each other. A similar scene unfolded a few feet away between Running Wolf and Night Crane. Feeling like an outsider, Dorothy looked away, slowly dismounting from her horse. She pretended to be looking for something, so as not to disturb the intimate reunions.

Sully finally pulled back slightly to look into Michaela's eyes as he caressed her face. "Are you all right?"

She dropped her head to his shoulder once again. "Yes. Just hold me."

Sully drew her tight to his chest again and stroked the back of her head. They stood like that for several moments slowly rocking back and forth in each other's arms.

Running Wolf held Night Crane in his arms, feeling a tension in her that matched his own. "I was so worried about you."

"I am fine," she told him, relaxing against his chest. "The children?"

"New Promise is hungry, but otherwise I am sure they are fine. Brian is looking after them." He gave her a soft kiss.

"I want to see them," Night Crane said, stepping out of her husband's embrace.

"You're burned," he said alarmed, noticing the bandage around her leg.

"I am fine. Dr. Mike took care of it."

Sully continued to hold his wife. "How 'bout we get back ta the kids before it gets dark," he whispered in her ear, letting his lips brush the lobe.

Michaela nodded then reluctantly stepped back. It had taken all her strength and courage to keep focused on escaping the fire. Now that she was back in Sully's arms, she finally felt the fear that had been bottled up inside her. Sully could read the fright in her eyes. He leaned into her, kissing her slow and soft.

Michaela kissed him back and when they separated, she leaned back to look into his eyes. "Are the children all right?"

"They're fine…just worried 'bout you. We all were." He helped Michaela back on her horse then he approached Dorothy. Catching her off guard, Sully gave her a gentle hug. "I'm glad you're all right."

Startled by his rare show of affection toward her, Dorothy returned his embrace. "Thank you."

"Are we ready to go back?" Running Wolf stood with his arm around his wife.

"Let's go," Sully replied, as he helped Dorothy onto her horse, and then mounted his own.

* * * * *

"Were the flames really chasing you?" Katie asked, as she lay on her bedroll in the tent.

Michaela tucked the blanket around her daughter. "They were in our path, yes."

"Tell us again how you ran from the fire," Josef said, stretched out with his hands behind his head.

"And how Papa found you," Katie added.

Michaela smoothed back her hair. "Let's just say we found each other."

"Were you scared?" Josef asked.

She leaned down to kiss his cheek. "We talked enough about fires for one day. It's time for all of us to go to sleep. We'll arrive at the reservation tomorrow."

Brian stood near the flap of the tent watching his siblings pepper his mother with questions. It amused him that, now that the danger had passed, their perspective shifted from fear for their mother's safety to excitement over her adventure.

Eyes Like the Sky rolled over on his side to face Michaela. The little boy had been sleeping in the tent with Katie and Josef for most of their trip. "Will the Army still let me play with your children at the reservation?"

"Of course you may still play with Katie and Josef for as long as we're visiting. You're also going to meet other nice children to become friends with."

Night Crane entered the tent to say goodnight to her son. "New Promise is asleep."

"Does your burn hurt?" Eyes Like the Sky asked his mother with worry.

"No, it doesn't hurt." Night Crane leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," the boy replied.

"Goodnight Mama," Josef said.

"Goodnight sweethearts," Michaela replied, as she exited the tent with Night Crane.

Dorothy waited outside to say goodnight. Though tired from the day's ordeal, she felt reluctant to separate from her friends. Surviving the fire together had forged a new understanding and closeness among the three women.

Giving in to their exhaustion, each woman said goodnight and retired to their bedrolls. Dorothy watched as Michaela joined Sully and Night Crane stood beside Running Wolf. She wished that she, too, could lie in a man's arms, safe and protected, just for this one night.

After tending to the horses, Running Wolf slid in beside his wife, pulling her close to him. "Are you asleep?"

"Not anymore," she replied, taking his hand in hers.

"I was terrified today." He kissed the side of her head.

Night Crane brought her hand up to stroke the hair at his temple. "I was frightened, too."

"I don't know what I would do if I lost you," Running Wolf murmured, caressing her hair as it hung like black silk ribbons against her shoulders.

Night Crane snuggled closer to him. "I feel the same." There was silence for a long minute. "I told them everything."

"Who?"

"Dr. Mike and Dorothy. I told them about my past…about remembering Dr. Mike and Sully from my village…Washita…how we met. I spoke only of my past."

"You must trust these women," he said, unsure how he felt about her revelation.

"I do." She kissed her husband. "After today, we share a bond."

"I have never had a white friend," Running Wolf told her.

"Sully could be. No?"

"In time, I think he could," Running Wolf admitted quietly. He reached for her hand under the blanket and squeezed it. "You will always be my best friend."

"And you mine," she replied, taking his hands in hers.

Running Wolf cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently until their passion quickly ignited. Their love, which began as a gentle friendship, had been subtly woven in the midst of a tangle of obstacles in their path from the secrets of their past, to having to overcome their ancestral animosity, to even the difference in their ages. When they finally dared succumbed to their growing feelings, their lives changed completely, as if the past had been chopped away with one swipe of a tomahawk.

Across the camp, Michaela and Sully lay in their bedrolls cuddled up against each other. She had fallen asleep fully clothed in Sully's arms and he hesitated to move for fear of waking her. Instinctively she tucked her hand into the hollow of his arm for warmth. He pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and wrapped his arm around her, holding her to him securely. Michaela stirred and murmured.

"Sully?" she said, groggy with sleep.

"Shh…go back ta sleep." He kissed the top of her head.

She turned in his arms to face him and reached out to touch the bandage on his arm. "What's this?" She hadn't noticed it before because his shirt had hidden it from view.

"Nothin'. You need ta rest."

"Michaela started to rise. "I should examine it."

Sully gently nudged her back down while he hovered over her with his weight resting on his elbows. "I got a minor burn. I took care o' it. There's nothin' ta worry about." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Now, go back ta sleep."

"Are you sure?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yep."

"I'll examine it in the morning," she said before growing quiet once again.

In the darkness, lying beside one another, they talked in silence. In their wordless language, Michaela moved her hand to Sully's hip for anchoring, while he gently stroked her temple with his fingers. They remained quiet in their familiar conversation for a long while. Michaela was the first to add a voice.

"Sully?"

"Hmmm…" He had nearly drifted off to sleep.

"Night Crane was part of Black Kettle's band."

Sully was quiet for a time, taking this in. "Ya sure?"

"Yes. She remembered us."

Sully lay on his back staring up at the star-filled sky, his hand clasped with Michaela's resting on his chest. "Why didn't she say nothin' 'fore now?"

"She wasn't positive we were the same people. When she figured it out, she wanted to wait for the right time." Her voice was soft in the night, hesitant and tentative. "Sully…she…she survived Washita." Those words struck him with almost physical force. When he didn't reply, she continued. "She told me what happened to the survivors afterward. You were right about her son. He is half white. She was raped by a soldier at Camp Supply."

"Their sufferin' don't seem ta end."

Michaela squeezed his hand. "Despite everything she's been through, she hasn't given up hope that she can keep the Cheyenne alive through her children."

"That's not gonna be easy when the government wants 'em ta forget they're Indian."

"I suppose nothing worthwhile is ever easy." She threaded her fingers through his and repositioned herself to kiss his chest.

Sully brought their joined hands to his lips for a soft kiss. "If anythin' woulda happened ta ya, I'd never forgiven myself."

Michaela caressed his face. "Sully, this wasn't your fault."

He sighed. "It's my fault we're here. You wanted ta go home."

"I'm glad we came," she reassured him. "I'm even happier we continued on. I wouldn't have wanted to miss getting to know Night Crane and Running Wolf. I'm quite fond of them."

"I owe Runnin' Wolf," Sully agreed then hesitated. "There's somethin' 'bout 'im though…"

"They are very private."

"It's more than that. I can't help thinkin' he's hidin' somethin'." He voiced the nagging concern that he had been trying to let go of.

"With all they've been through, can you blame them for being guarded?"

"I suppose not." Sully lay quiet for a moment then tightened his hold on her. "When ya weren't behind us…I…I was scared…I…."

"I know." She lifted her head to kiss him, her long auburn hair falling down around his face, curtaining it.

Sully brought her into his arms and deepened the kiss, tasting the cool sweetness of her mouth. It was this passion, nourished with extraordinary care, which sustained and protected them in their inevitable times of adversity. He pulled back to gaze into her eyes. "I love you."

"And, I love you." She reached for him and pulled him gently toward her feeling their mouths and limbs stir with mutual hunger. "We have to be quiet."

"Then stop talkin'."

Go to Chapter Seventeen...

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Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen

A large horseshoe shaped hill rose above the flat, prairie landscape. The weary travelers knew they had arrived at their destination by the numerous log cabins dotting the grass and the American flags waving in the breeze. The Cheyenne-Arapaho Indian Agency was on the riverbank near a long, low hill in the tree-lined valley of the North Canadian River.

Running Wolf pulled up on the reins to slow his horse. He drew in a halting breath at the sight before him. Sharing a silent, uneasy glance with Sully, he flicked the reins again to continue his approach toward the reservation. The closer he came to the entrance, the tighter his stomach muscles contracted as he faced the reality of his last moments as a free man.

"Ya all right?" Sully asked Running Wolf as he brought his horse to a stop several feet from the entrance.

Running Wolf took several deep breaths as he stared at the divide between freedom and captivity. Looking in Sully's direction, he gave him an almost imperceptible nod. "I am ready."

Two soldiers stood guard on either side of an American flag marking the entrance to the reservation. Upon seeing the strangers, they immediately reached for their weapons and blocked the passageway with their bodies. Taking one look at Running Wolf, they aimed a rifle at the Indian while shouting at him to dismount. When Running Wolf was off his horse, the soldiers pinned his hands behind his back. Sully leapt off his horse and lunged toward the soldier to free his friend. But, before he could reach Running Wolf, he found himself staring down the barrel of a rifle. Slowly, he stepped back with his hands in the air.

"We're not here ta cause trouble," Sully told them, his eyes hard and narrow.

"We're seein' ta that," the soldier snapped, his gun a mere two inches from Sully's chest.

The sight of a gun pointed at her husband caused Michaela to abruptly pull up on the reins to halt the wagon. Before it came to a full stop, she leapt down to rush toward Sully, but was halted by the sturdy body of a six foot soldier, his face hard and stern. "Sir, if you would allow us a moment to explain," Michaela began calmly, though her heart was pounding against her ribcage.

Night Crane was bathed in a flood of hot indignation at the treatment of her husband and Sully. As she watched her husband struggle to rein in his temper, she thought it best to remain on her horse, in the background. She was afraid of how he might react if the soldiers pointed their guns at her or their sons.

The children huddled close together in the rear of the wagon, frightened by the guns and loud voices. Brian crawled into the back to calm them, confident that his parents could handle the confrontation. Dorothy remained atop her horse behind the wagon concerned for her friends. Unconsciously, her eyes couldn't help occasionally drifting across the perimeter of the reservation in search of Cloud Dancing.

With the gun still pointed at him, Sully noticed another man dressed in civilian clothes hurrying toward them. He surmised that he must be the Indian Agent at Darlington, John Miles. Agent Miles had been the Indian Agent for almost a decade, since 1872. He was known to follow the rules, favored assimilation as the only hope for the Indians, and was fair in his treatment of those under his command.

"What's going on here?" Agent Miles asked the soldiers, eyeing the wagon, horses, and the women and children.

"They tried ta get through. We apprehended them," the soldier replied, his gun still aimed at Sully.

Agent Miles faced his men. "Let him go," he said of Running Wolf. "And lower your weapons. These men came here voluntarily with their families. We will first find out why." Then he turned to Sully with an expression that demanded an explanation.

With the gun no longer aimed at his chest, Sully breathed easier. "I came with my family ta visit a friend…Cloud Dancing," he replied as he tried to push down his anger. His eyes scanned the area for any sign of his brother. Seeing none, he turned his attention back toward the Indian Agent.

Agent Miles considered his response as his eyes roamed from the stranger's fringed buckskin jacket, to the large knife and tomahawk hanging from the belt that snugly hugged the hips of his buckskin pants, down to the moccasins on his feet. He raised his eyes back to Sully's face. "This is most unusual. We've never had visitors. I don't believe I can allow visitors."

"Can't or won't?" Sully challenged, his arms crossed at his chest.

"Even prisoners are allowed visitors, sir," Michaela added, moving to stand beside her husband.

"The Indians aren't prisoners."

"Could o' fooled me," Sully replied under his breath, his eyes intently focused on the soldiers.

Agent Miles ignored the sarcastic comment and directed his attention toward Running Wolf. "And what brings you here?"

Running Wolf inhaled deeply. "We have come to live."

Taken aback by this news, Agent Miles asked, "Where is your reservation?"

"Here. We are Cheyenne," Night Crane offered. Once the guns were lowered, she had come to stand beside her husband.

"Where have you been living?"

"In the north," the Indian replied. "We desire to live among my wife's people now."

Agent Miles glanced between Sully and Running Wolf, confused by their alliance.

"We met up on the way here." Sully began. "We were travelin' the same way an' figured it'd be safer ta come together." His voice was thick with resentment from having to explain himself.

Agent Miles ignored his tone as he turned back toward Running Wolf. "I'll escort your family to their living quarters." Then he turned again to Sully. "Your family is welcome to visit. You may camp where you wish. The reservation is peaceful. I don't want any trouble."

"We don't mean ta give ya any," Sully replied, staring sharply at the Agent. With Running Wolf about to leave for his new lodge, Sully pushed down his outrage toward the agent, focused on what mattered most, and approached his friend. He clasped Running Wolf's hand warmly, knowing nothing was ever going to be the same for him and his family again. Unexpectedly, Running Wolf drew Sully into a bear hug.

"I am glad to know you," he told Sully in a shaky voice.

"Same here," Sully said. "Take care o' your family."

Night Crane walked to the wagon and lifted New Promise into her arms. Then she made her way over to say goodbye to Michaela. "I am pleased we have met again," the young women told her.

"We'll visit you as soon as we've set up camp," Michaela reassured, her palm gently resting against the young woman's back.

Night Crane could only nod in reply. With her emotions stirred, she did not have the words she wished to convey. She gave Michaela a warm hug then said goodbye to Dorothy and took Eyes Like the Sky by the hand. Running Wolf and Night Crane followed behind the Indian Agent to their new home. Eyes Like the Sky glanced back at Katie and Josef several times, his face clouded by fear.

As Michaela and Sully watched their friends being escorted to their new home, their eyes continued to scan the area for Cloud Dancing. They noticed immediately the appalling condition of the Indians. Their clothing hung in ragged tatters on their starved bodies. Their pace was slow, as if their daily existence held no purpose for them. Many of those who walked by coughed and wheezed. The only sign of joy in these tragic habitations was the sound of laughter coming from a group of young children up ahead. Having known no different life, they could delight in the ordinary games of youth, unaware of the enormity of what they had lost.

"Let's find a place ta camp. Then we can come back ta look for Cloud Dancin'," Sully suggested, seeing no sign of his friend.

In the distance, Michaela noticed a figure moving slowly in their direction. There was something familiar in his walk, but his loose clothes and thin physique bore no resemblance to anyone she knew. Turning her eyes away from the man, she faced Sully, nodding in agreement. As she climbed into the wagon, she glanced over the top of Sully's head to take another look at the approaching figure. She drew in her breath when she realized it was Cloud Dancing heading toward them. "Sully," she spoke low placing her feet back on the ground and her hand on his back.

Noticing the peculiar look in Michaela's eyes, Sully turned around. He drew in a sharp breath when he saw Cloud Dancing walking slowly toward them. Sully fought to keep down his rage at the sight of the once strong and robust man. Elation over being reunited with Cloud Dancing momentarily quelled his anger and he quickly closed the distance between them, drawing his friend into a tight embrace. The moment they circled their arms around each other, they could feel the miles that had separated them melt away.

"It is good to see you, my brother," Cloud Dancing said, his eyes misted by unshed tears. For a few seconds, they experienced one of those mute moments that often follow an enthusiastic reunion. So much needed to be said, yet neither one knew where to begin. Instead, they stared wordlessly at each other, overcome to be standing in each other's company once again.

Sully couldn't find his voice as a storm of emotions waged war within him. It was so good to see Cloud Dancing again, but not like this, now so thin and frail. He stepped out of their embrace, draped one arm across his shoulders and guided him toward his family.

"Cloud Dancing," Michaela greeted with a warm hug. Her eyes blurred as the joy of seeing him again merged with sorrow over his frail condition.

Cloud Dancing's eyes lingered over each member of the family until they settled on the boy who was now a man. "Brian, you are taller than Sully now," the Indian remarked, shaking the young man's hand.

"It's been a long time," Brian acknowledged. His voice was halted by the emotion of seeing Cloud Dancing after all this time.

"Cloud Dancing, it's good to see you," Dorothy said as she tentatively approached him.

"Dorothy," he said. His tone was level and difficult to read. As Dorothy moved closer to embrace him, Cloud Dancing stepped to the side to greet the younger children. She wasn't sure if his action was intentional or accidental. Either way, she was hurt, and averted her eyes as they welled with tears.

"Who are these children?" Cloud Dancing exclaimed in a playful tone. "Surely, these two young people cannot be Katie and Josef."

"I'm Katie," the little girl said, confidently stepping forward with her hand held out for Cloud Dancing.

Cloud Dancing took her small hand in both of his and directed his gaze toward Sully. "It has been a long time."

"Too long," Sully replied, choked up at the sight of his daughter with her Cheyenne father.

Cloud Dancing faced Katie again. "You must be ten years old now and so beautiful."

"Thank you," she replied in a soft voice.

"She looks more an' more like her ma every day," Sully added, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"You resemble both of your parents. No one could mistake you for anyone else's child." Cloud Dancing approached Josef, who stood quietly by his mother's side, nervous of the stranger who everyone seemed to know except him. "You do not remember me, but I remember you when you were much smaller. It is good to see you again so grown up."

Josef took Cloud Dancing's outstretched hand. "Papa told us about you."

"He speaks about all of you, too," Cloud Dancing replied. "How was your trip?" Cloud Dancing asked Sully.

Thinking the question was addressed to him, Josef replied. "Wolf died, I got lost and Runnin' Wolf found me, Papa got hurt and there was a big fire."

Cloud Dancing turned to Sully, a look of concern spread across his face.

"That pretty much sums it up," Sully said with a grim smile.

"Wolf died?"

"Yeah," Sully replied softly, lowering his eyes to the ground. "He tangled with a cougar."

"I am sorry." Cloud Dancing could tell how hard the loss affected Sully and the effort he waged within himself to keep it hidden.

Forcing his mind back to the present, Sully placed his arm across Cloud Dancing's back. "Come on, we'll tell ya all about it. And we wanna hear how things are here," he said, a bit apprehensive of what he might learn.

"I am afraid I do not have time to visit," Cloud Dancing explained. "There is much sickness," he paused and looked at Michaela. "We could use your help."

"Of course. Let me get my bag."

"What is it?" Sully asked, concerned.

"I am not certain," Cloud Dancing replied.

Sully faced Michaela. "I'll find us a place ta camp an' get everyone settled," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Michaela walked away with Cloud Dancing. Together they headed toward the rows of log cabins that now housed Cheyenne and Arapahoe families.

* * * * *

As they followed behind Agent Miles to their new living quarters, Night Crane was aware of the many eyes fixed upon them. She studied the features of the men, women and children they passed, hoping to recognize a familiar face. These were her people; surely, someone would remember her and be glad she had returned. So absorbed in searching, Night Crane hadn't noticed when they stopped in front of a small wooden cabin. She pushed aside her longing for connection to the tribe of her ancestors to concentrate on the Agent's words.

"You may live here." He pointed to a wooden structure in serious need of repair. Several wooden boards were missing and the one small window was cracked and dirty.

Running Wolf wondered how this wood lodge was superior to a tepee. He knew it wasn't. It was just one more example of the white man imposing his ways on the Indians. He had heard that some elders and members of the soldier societies still lived in tepees on the border of the reservation. As an outsider, he had no status in the tribe to use as leverage for such a privilege. Looking over the dilapidated wooden structure, he made a mental note to ask Sully for help in repairing it.

Agent Miles noticed the Indian's disdain. "It needs some work, but it's a solid structure."

"It will be fine," Running Wolf responded in a dismissive tone.

Agent Miles took his tone as his cue to depart, but before he did, he gave them instructions, making it clear they would now be living according to someone else's rules. "I'll give you a few days to settle in and make the necessary repairs to the cabin. After that I expect you to assimilate into reservation life without incident. Your boy is to attend the Cheyenne school and you are to learn a trade. There's farming, cutting hay, chopping wood, and a few jobs hauling freight."

"I will make myself useful to the tribe," Running Wolf replied. He turned away from the Agent indicating that they wished to be left alone to move into their home. It was hard for him to consider this broken down cabin a home. He had always preferred to lay under the canopy of trees and the star filled sky.

Agent Miles nodded his understanding and departed. After the Agent was out of sight, Running Wolf and Night Crane started unloading the travois. Eyes Like the Sky stood with his eyes transfixed on the unstable structure.

Running Wolf noticed his unease. "Don't worry. Together we will turn this place into a fine lodge."

Eyes Like the Sky lifted a bedroll from the travois. "I'll help you fix it up Father."

"With all of us, it will be done in no time. I'll ask Sully to help. That way you can spend time with Katie and Josef. When we finish, your mother will decorate a fine robe for the door."

With her arms full of clothing, Night Crane noticed an old woman approaching them. Her eyes spoke of suffering and her face was lined and weathered, showing the hardships of struggle along with the strength of survival. Though her hair was white, her thin body frail, and she walked with a limp, Night Crane couldn't mistake her determined stride for anyone else. The woman who hobbled toward them was her aunt, Falling Dove. Night Crane lowered the items to the ground and hurried toward the old woman.

"You have returned," Falling Dove said in Cheyenne. Her tone was neutral, failing to reveal whether she was pleased by this fact.

Hearing the absence of warmth in her voice, Night Crane paused in her steps. The two women stared at each other for several long moments before the older woman spoke again.

"Have you returned alone?" Falling Dove asked, concern showing on her face.

"No," Night Crane answered. "Running Wolf is with me and Eyes Like the Sky. And we have another son, New Promise. We will live here, over there." The young woman pointed to the structure ten yards away.

"I thought you must be dead," the older woman revealed, her eyes cast downward.

"I'm sorry to have worried you," Night Crane replied. "We lived on our own for the past few years hiding from the Army."

"Why have you returned now?"

"We desire for our children to learn the ways of my grandfathers," Night Crane explained.

"It will not be long before no one remembers the ways of our people. They will only allow your children to be taught white ways."

"You and I will teach them. Aren't there others who teach the children the old ways?"

"There are…but they must be careful," her aunt said, glancing from side to side to see who might have heard.

"We are not afraid of danger," she replied. Though Night Crane was a strong and confident woman in her own right, she always felt small in the presence of her aunt, leading her to speak with false bravado.

"Only a fool has no fear of danger," her aunt hissed. "Your husband is not Cheyenne."

"No, but he wants our children to grow up in the ways of the Cheyenne."

"Do you think it is wise to have returned?" Falling Dove asked the question that hung in the air between them.

"We had no choice. Hiding out in the woods alone was no way to raise our children. They belong with the Cheyenne people. They need to know what it means to be part of a tribe…to be Cheyenne."

"Have you considered the danger?"

"The danger has passed."

"For the sake of your children, I hope that is true."

Night Crane stepped toward her aunt, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Come. I want you to meet my family."

* * * * *

"Do you know what it is?" Cloud Dancing asked, kneeling beside Michaela as she examined a young boy.

She faced Cloud Dancing. "I believe it's malaria. He's the tenth person we've treated since yesterday with a high fever, chills, and weakness." It was hard for her to bear the sight of so many sick children, the expression in their eyes sunken and listless. "Place your hand here," she instructed him. "His spleen is enlarged."

"What causes this malaria?" Cloud Dancing said, removing his hands from the boy's right side. He had never heard of this Illness before.

Michaela lowered the boy's shirt and administered several teaspoons of quinine. Next to her, Cloud Dancing chanted and fanned the boy's body with an eagle feather while swooping and diving in imitation of the eagle's flight. Michaela waited until he was finished before speaking. "Malaria occurs in areas near swamps. We don't yet know how it's transmitted, though scientists believe an insect, perhaps a mosquito, may spread it. I can't be certain that's what it is until I examine samples of saliva under a microscope. I should be able to see spores in the saliva to confirm the diagnosis. However, all the presenting symptoms suggest malaria."

"How can you be sure it is not the influenza?"

"It's true, the symptoms are similar," Michaela said, standing to move to the next patient. "But if it were influenza, I'd expect to see it spread more rapidly throughout the reservation. Though the two diseases share symptoms in common, they are transmitted differently."

"There are no swamps here," Cloud Dancing said, going over everything she had said in his mind.

"No, however, the drought has reduced the water level in some parts of the river to little more than swamps. Given how malnourished your people are, they're more susceptible to the disease."

"I do not know if the Army has a microscope here. What if you cannot confirm it?" Cloud Dancing asked.

"I'll treat the fever with quinine. It's very important to reduce the fever. Have you been using willow bark tea?"

"I cannot find enough willow bark here," Cloud Dancing admitted. "Many of our people also have the same sickness we saw in Black Moon's camp," he added, overwhelmed by the needs of his people.

"Consumption?" Michaela asked, though she already knew the answer. The reservation was overwhelmed with illness, fueled by malnourishment, unsanitary conditions, and close living quarters.

"Yes. Consumption."

They walked toward another patient, a young child. They walked slowly in deference to Cloud Dancing who was weighed down by physical and emotional burdens. It broke Michaela's heart to see him so weak and dejected. Michaela knew that Cloud Dancing had been going without food so that others could eat. "Cloud Dancing, I know your people are starving, but you won't be able to help them unless you regain your strength. You must eat."

"The food the government sends is not enough to feed all the people," Cloud Dancing explained. "I give my portion to the children."

Michaela understood his dilemma after witnessing firsthand the effects of malnutrition on the children. It stunted their growth, making children appear half their age, and it contributed to their listless state. "Can't the Indian Agent do something?"

Cloud Dancing didn't respond. He gave Michaela a long, considering stare, giving her time to reflect on her words.

Michaela lowered her eyes to the ground. "If Sully wasn't able to secure adequate rations for Palmer Creek, I can't expect another agent to either. I'm sorry."

"Agent Miles tries, as Sully did. Unlike Sully, his spirit does not go with the Cheyenne, but he does not want our people to starve. He knows that hunger hinders our assimilation into white society. He tells the government there are more of us than there are to increase the rations, but still, it is not enough. He has permitted some of our braves to leave the reservation to hunt, but there is no more buffalo. The elk and most of the other large game have moved on as well."

"I'm sorry Cloud Dancing. You shouldn't be forced to live like this. No one should."

"No." Cloud Dancing was silent for a few moments before repeating her words. "No one should."

Sensing that Cloud Dancing needed to rest, Michaela led them to a bench where they sat down. "Where's the doctor?" she asked.

"There is no doctor."

"No doctor?"

"There is an Army doctor who comes through perhaps once a month, usually less. We do what we can to take care of our own. Many die, mostly the children. Many women have lost babies, as Snow Bird did." Cloud Dancing said, his eyes dark with fatigue.

"While we are here, I will help you take care of your people," Michaela said, taking Cloud Dancing's hand in hers. "I didn't bring enough quinine with me to treat all those who are ill, but I'll wire for more."

"I am grateful for your help. I have tried to apply what I learned from you about white man's diseases, but I do not have the medicine."

"I'll order as much as I can so you have some after we leave."

"Thank you." He was profoundly grateful for his friend's help, but also angry, angry that the government did not provide them with a simple medicine that Michaela could so easily obtain.

"I'm afraid I don't have enough of the medicine that your people need most," she added regretfully.

"What's that?"

"Food."

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