My Name Is Cree

by T. K. Richardson

  I nodded.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “And Songbird was here with me.”

  He looked relieved.

  “Never be alone with him, Little Foot.” His voice had an edge to it.

  “What happened? I know you didn’t fall like he said.”

  “I am fine. I’m here with you. This is not important.” He touched my cheek, his eyes lingering on me for a second, a hint of compassion on his face. He moved around me and went to the rugs where the clean shirt lay in the center of his bed. I touched his arm, wanting more answers. “Not now, Little Foot. We meet with the Forest People this evening, and I must prepare you for that. I don’t think you understand what might happen.” He lifted the clean shirt and pulled it over his head, covering the bandage and the wound, and sealing the fact that I would not get any answers about what caused the injury right now.

  “About this meeting,” I said. “I know it’s not what you wanted, and I didn’t want to go against you, but I knew we needed to make this work, so I thought it was a good compromise,” I stated, hoping he’d understand.

  He nodded. “It was a good compromise.”

  “The elder seemed pleased with it. I asked him if he thought it was a good idea.”

  He looked at me appraisingly. “He agreed it was?”

  “Yeah,” I said, wondering why he seemed surprised.

  “Very good. It is rare for the elder to show approval so quickly. He must value your thoughts and opinions. He admired Birch’s knowledge and respected him. It seems he is extending that to you, as well. This is good.” He seemed pleased, and a little relieved.

  “But when I questioned Running Bear about your fall, I might have gone too far. The elder stopped me. So, I may not be in such good graces after all,” I confessed.

  He laughed slightly. “Well, I think he will forgive your blunt approach.” He looked at me again like I was an anomaly, not understanding their ways, but trying to figure it out as I went.

  Chapter 13

  I stood across from Three Scars at the bonfire in the middle of camp. The sun wafted just over the edge of the tree tops signaling the quick approach to our meeting with the Forest People. My excitement about meeting them waned when Three Scars told me that all the warriors who returned from the hunt would be present. That concerned me. I hoped there would be no hostility.

  I peered through the flames and watched as he stood next to the elder, his profile blurred by the heat, his form moving slightly with each wave, his eyes lit with his own fire. He glanced over to me, as though I were the subject of their conversation. He looked back to the elder who spoke with slight gestures, slow, and calm.

  “Little Foot, I made this for you, to keep you safe,” Songbird said, approaching me. She opened a leather pouch and gently removed a thin braided strip made of tree fibers, with a small piece of red quartz hanging from the bottom, twined by a grey feather. Delicate work, slight, and beautiful. “The feather, so you’ll always fly away from danger and the blood quartz to spare you any harm or bloodshed of your own, on a circle of fir tree fibers to keep you in the forest. A hedge around you, to hide you.” She did not smile, but her eyes were moist, as though she thought I’d be in grave danger. I thought of the woman from their legends who left and joined the Forest People only to return in the end. I wondered how true the legend was. Did she go on her own, or was there something else that drew her to them? Maybe Songbird had those same questions.

  I lifted the necklace over my head and touched the soft feather with my finger. “It’s so pretty,” I said, and looked at her. “Thank you. I’ll be safe, though. I’m not afraid.”

  She tilted her head, her eyes sorrowful. “You do not fear what you do not know.” She touched my shoulder.

  I glanced back to Three Scars, his dark eyes pierced mine, a pained expression on his face. His eyes flicked from the necklace to me. Songbird silently slipped away. I thought it touching, and thoughtful of her, but the look on Three Scars’ face concerned me. I had no fear of them, they never harmed me, and they had ample opportunity for that to happen. Songbird and Three Scars didn’t understand.

  The elder raised his hand, resting it on Three Scars’ shoulder and bowed his head, like speaking a blessing over him. Three Scars lowered his head, and the elder removed his hand. He turned away, walked around the fire, toward me. Each stride had purpose, his back straight, the other warriors glancing his way, a look of respect mingled with concern flicked across their faces. He approached, his dark eyes locked on me.

  “It is almost time, Little Foot. Before we leave the elder has instructed that you should know what to expect. He wants you to know us, to see who we are now before we leave so you won’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid of us,” he said, his eyes piercing and steadfast. I stood still and nodded. “Are you ready? If not, we don’t have to do this. You can back out now. You are not obligated or bound to us, and you can leave at any time,” he said, his voice laced with a mix of concern and trepidation.

  “I’m ready. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not afraid.” I lifted my head. “And as far as being bound to you. Well, that’s for me to decide.” I glanced at the bear tooth necklace around his neck. A look of relief touched his eyes, and his gaze dropped to the braided cord around my neck. The look in his eyes instantly turned to concern. “Blood quartz,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet mine. “Songbird has many worries,” he said, “and it appears she is worried for you.”

  “Worries?”

  “She senses things. It must be danger about meeting them soon,” he said, a pained look in his eyes.

  “I’m not afraid,” I said, but something inside felt uneasy. I pushed it away, not allowing fear to get a foot hold, and looked up at him. “How long until we go?”

  “First, you meet our warriors. I did not approve of this, but the elder insisted.” He looked away, his eyes darting from Running Bear to Red Hawk. “Little Foot,” his voice was low, almost a whisper, “stay close to me no matter what. No matter what you see, or what you feel, stay close to me. It’s for your safety.” His dark eyes held mine, imparting the weight of his words, the warning laced in each syllable.

  “Will you shift, too? I’ll know you because of the bear tooth, right?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll stay like this and interpret what is said. They want to speak with you, see you, ask you questions.” His eyes held a mix of worry and fierce protectiveness, the kind I’ve never seen before. My heart skipped a beat, his words seeping deep inside me. I’d never allowed fear to grip me, but the warning he spoke made me rethink the coming meeting, and wonder what or where the most danger emanated from – the Tore warriors after they shifted, or the Forest People?

  “Stay close, Little Foot,” he said and as the last word left his mouth I saw movement to my right. Turning, I spotted Running Bear blur from bare chested with long black hair, six foot tall with the deepest black eyes, to someone three feet taller, broad and covered in black hair – hair that hung from his arms by six to eight inches. His eyes were the same, deep dark black, a glint of pride shone through revealing Running Bear was there, not fully animal, not fully human. His form massive and broad, his chest covered in long black hair, heaving from the shift. He let out a low growl and slammed his fist into his other open hand.

  I glanced toward Red Hawk, who shifted from human to massive being, in only a few seconds. His transformation was quick, slipping from one form to the next, like he mastered the change over the years. His eyes met mine and he lowered his head slightly, acknowledging he knew me.

  I scanned the rest of them and warrior after warrior shifted, some easy like Red Hawk’s, while others took longer. I assumed the younger warriors needed time to master it, to maneuver from this body to the next. In a matter of minutes, the Tore warriors stood in the center of the camp transformed from their human likenesses into the image of Forest People who stood nine feet tall, covered in hair, their heads enormous, their eyes deep set, their brows flat and broad, t
heir legs and arms massive and long, their backs rolling with muscle. I understood why the legends of the Tore warriors permeated the forest dwellers, and I had no doubt those stories were true.

  “Little Foot?” Three Scars said, and I looked back to him. “Are you okay?”

  Running Bear growled again and huffed a deep grizzly call that vibrated through my core. I glanced toward him, but Three Scars stepped in front of me, blocking Running Bear’s view. He put his arm behind him, grasping my hand, pulling me closer to him. I sensed the danger, felt the concern in Three Scar’s grip on me, his stare at Running Bear was intense, guarded. The younger warrior stepped forward closing the gap between him and his older brother. A challenge. Three Scars glanced to Red Hawk who growled at Running Bear. The younger warrior stopped, his chest still rising rapidly, his gaze shifted from Three Scars to the source of the warning. Running Bear huffed, shook his head and stepped back. A quick apologetic glance to Three Scars ended the challenge.

  The warning for me to stay away from the younger warriors echoed through my mind.

  “He’s not all there,” Three Scars said under his breath. “He’s rolling from memories of us as brothers to acting on instinct, and it’s hard to separate the two.”

  “Does it get easier?” I asked, glancing once to Red Hawk, his gaze still fixed on Running Bear.

  “You learn to let the memories be stronger and to suppress the instinct,” he said.

  I wondered how Three Scars would react to me if he shifted in my presence. Would he know me, or us, or what we had in those quiet times? Though I didn’t know really what we were, if anything, I wondered if he’d remember that, remember us? I also wondered if this explained how Three Scars was hurt in what was said to be a fall. Was it because he tried correcting or helping his brother? Maybe that’s why the elder dismissed my questions about Running Bear’s story.

  Red Hawk and another warrior turned and walked toward the river. Everyone followed, and Running Bear joined them, his posture less rigid, his shoulders relaxed. Three Scars waited until thirty or forty feet separated us from them before we followed. He held my hand, and I drew closer to him, realizing that danger was all around us.

  Or rather, all around me.

  I stole a quick glance at Three Scars. His eyes set directly in front of us, his gaze flicked from Running Bear to each of the warriors. I wondered if he knew their thoughts. I was positive he knew their body language, and calculated with a high degree of certainty, what their actions might be because of his intimate knowledge of how they thought and what they battled within. He was their leader and being in human form must have been hard. Leading from behind couldn’t be easy.

  “If you need to shift to help them, I’ll be okay,” I said and kept walking, never breaking pace with him, even though his strides were twice what mine were.

  I wondered if he already thought of this, or if he was completely against it.

  “I will only do that if it is necessary,” he said, his tone guarded. “If your life is in danger, I will protect you. No harm will come to you, and if it does, it must pass through me first,” he said, echoing his oath to the elder when I first arrived.

  “But if it would be easier for them, and keep them safer, than I just wanted to…” my sentence trailed off and I looked down.

  He squeezed my hand.

  “Don’t worry about them. They know what they’re doing. We’ve been doing it for generations,” he said and glanced at me, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

  “But you might not have always had a girl in the way,” I countered.

  His smile vanished and he shot a quick glance my way. He didn’t say anything, but I felt like I touched on a subject that reminded him of something painful. He squeezed my hand again and we kept walking.

  The warriors’ distance from us increased and soon they were hidden in the trees, their forms melting into the shadows, the only remnant of their presence was the slight quake of earth beneath our feet from the weight of their massive forms sharing the same plane as us.

  “Are the Forest People like this, too?” I asked

  His brow knit together, questioning.

  “You know, is it hard for them like it is for Running Bear?”

  “Hmm…” he said. “I’m not sure. They don’t shift. They’re always in one state, so I doubt it. But I’m not sure if they’re advanced like we are, or if they’re more instinct.”

  “I bet they’re advanced, otherwise they wouldn’t act like they do,” I mused.

  “Act like what?” he asked.

  “Well, if they were mostly instinct, they’d have attacked the dwellers, or our animals. And they wouldn’t want to meet with me and find out what I know if they weren’t advanced, right?”

  “Maybe,” he said.

  I believed I was right about them, and they were more than animals, but closer to us. I always thought so, otherwise they’d have been seen by humans, and possibly even captured by people. They were smart enough to stay away and leave no trace, aside from the skull I had.

  We walked into the trees, the shades of gray and black mixing together. The sun set over the horizon somewhere far away where there was a horizon. The forest swallowed up all hopes of seeing it though, its tall cedars and pines, oaks and sugar pines, Sequoias and fir trees, reached so high and grew so close together darkness came early each evening.

  It was time to meet them, to know them close-up, to finally see faces behind the growls and the warnings I had become accustomed to. I wondered if the little one I saw a few years back would be there by the river, wondered if they looked like Tore warriors after they shifted. Would I be able to tell them apart?

  We continued in silence and the ground beneath stopped tremoring. “They’re at the river,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice low. “Little Foot, stay close. No matter what happens or what you see, stay next to me. Do you understand?” he warned.

  I nodded. A mix of excitement and trepidation fought for space within me. We approached the edge of the trees and a wall of Tore warriors, their backs to us, faced the river. Standing shoulder to shoulder they blocked the view across the water. An uneasy silence permeated the air, an occasional huff or low growl broke through, but was followed by silence. Three Scars walked through the center of Tore shifters, their massive forms moving to let us pass. My heart pounded, my mind searching for what to say, how to act, how to react to seeing Forest People so close.

  We stepped to the rivers’ edge and I looked up.

  Forest People, standing shoulder to shoulder, stared at me, their eyes imploring, soft, deep set. Reddish brown hair covered them, some darker, others with more red tones. They stood from seven to nine feet tall, their arms long and angled up slightly at the elbow, their legs thick and heavy, their chests broad and muscled like the Tore.

  I raised my hand, a slight wave and smiled. They looked one to the other and shifted their stances. “I believe you know me,” I said.

  A low grunt and a few syllables from behind, surprised me, but then realized Red Hawk must be interpreting what I said. The one across the river in the center, nodded and grunted back, a series of breaths and syllables followed.

  “You are the Fox Girl. We know of you,” Three Scars translated. I looked down at my fur cape and touched its edge.

  “I know you, too. I try to stay away, but we share the same forest, the same rivers and creeks. We share the animals, too,” I said.

  Red Hawk translated, and they nodded and grunted.

  “We accept you. You are good. We are no threat,” Three Scars translated their response.

  “I know,” I said, “I accept you, too.”

  “You are far from your tree house,” Three Scars translated. “I think they mean log cabin.”

  “It is not safe for me right now. It’s not safe for you either. We have to stay away,” I said, my eyes searching their eyes for understanding. “I am staying with Tore until I can go home,” I added and pointed to Th
ree Scars.

  Red Hawk translated and they looked at Three Scars, appraising him, and then scanning the other Tore warriors. They looked to each other, a mix of confusion and fear in their eyes. They shifted, grunted, as though they were talking amongst themselves.

  “What danger is there?” Three Scars translated.

  I took a deep breath and shook my head. I looked down to the river separating us, wishing there were no barriers between us – no language barriers, no physical blocks. I looked up and said, “People are looking for you. They want to catch you. I had to leave and come here, because I know of you. But I am hiding from them, because I won’t tell them about you. I want to protect our forest, protect you, protect me, protect Tore,” I said.

  Three Scars glanced at me and looked back at Red Hawk. I hoped he could translate all of that. I looked across at them and noticed a little one peeking around the one in the center who spoke with me. He was about my size, maybe a junior, I guessed ten years old. I smiled and recognized him. The little one who ran from me a few years back. He looked at me, as Red Hawk finished translating what I said.

  The Forest People started to move, look at each other, gurgle and form unintelligible words, their faces shifting from curious to fearful. They turned one to another, their questions appeared to be mounting, their concern growing. He exchanged words with Red Hawk, and once those words were complete the Tore warriors seemed to grumble, become agitated, angry even. Their body language went from relaxed but guarded, to huffed and tense.

  Three Scars turned to me, his eyes alarmed, his words spilling out quickly. “They ask if you are safe with us, safe with half-humans? They ask if you will go with them.” His breathing increased, like he was concerned for me, for what might happen between Tore and those across the river, like so much heaviness between all might burst and cause unparalleled damaged.

  I raised my hand, an attempt to calm both sides, and stepped to the edge of the river, my boots dipping in the icy water. I grabbed their attention, locked my eyes on theirs. Though their concern for me was touching, they needed to know the truth. “I am very safe with Tore. They are my people now, my family. I will not go with you.” I reached down to my boot, pulled the knife from the shaft inside, and put the blade to my shawl. Both Tore and Forest People watched the weapon and Three Scars drew in a deep breath. I sliced a swath of fur from the bottom hem of my cape, cutting it free. I held it high for all to see. “This is my oath to you in the presence of your people and my people, between this land and your land, between my forest and your forest. I am friend to your people, and no harm will come to you by my hands.” I tossed the cut fur across the river and watched as he caught it. His eyes held mine, as Red Hawk translated what I spoke. The Forest People stood silent, their eyes intent on me – small, and harmless, yet my oath stood as a monument between us. He nodded his head, and held the fur high for all to see, and then passed the fur to the one standing next to him. He lifted it to his nose, taking in my scent, passing it to the next in line.