"He will never let us continue to be allied with each other, regardless of the cause. Never again."
"I know."
"But," Gray Falcon added, "take heart; it is not so bad. We are even now 'talking' to each other. He cannot stop what remains of our friendship if we continue to speak to one another as we are now. In this way, we can resist him and never be too far apart."
"Do you really mean what you've said? Do you, then, like me a little?"
"We are friends. Of course I like you a little."
"Only a little?"
He didn't answer. At length, glancing around at his fellow Blackfoot allies, he said in mind speak, "I must go."
"You are injured, aren't you?"
"I must go. Tonight, I will reach out to you again."
The communication ended.
Gradually he, as well as his friends, withdrew to a safe distance from the fort, their weapons still drawn. He felt a gentle touch upon his arm and, looking down, saw his auntie beside him.
She said nothing. Instead, with a careful hand, she took him by the arm and guided him to her lodge, and, looking back, Gray Falcon saw the Blackfoot warriors covering his retreat.
Sun, the Creator, had been with him today, ensuring he would come away from this confrontation with his scalp and his life still intact. This was without doubt. And, he had taken a giant step into becoming a medicine man. He had spoken the thought speech, and with a girl who wasn't even Indian.
Perhaps the day wasn't so bad, after all.
