"No, s'just... s'where the spirits go. To watch over you."
She's not making much sense, she realizes. She forces her eyes open, focusing on the bright pinprick in the east.
"S'just a story Chenoa used t'tell me. After my daddy died. Been thinkin' 'bout it a lot since... bein' alone in Colorada for so long..."
She shakes her head weakly, and quietly repeats the Indian folklore.
She's rambling a little, tired and a bit tipsy, and when she's done with the story she talks about her daddy's ranch, and the hired hands she'd grown up with. They were the closest things to family she had after her father's murder.
Chenoa was a Tonkawa Indian, and he'd told her many traditional folklores throughout her whole young life. Several she kept tucked away in the back of her mind. The story of death and Morning Star was one of the foremost that touched her.
no subject
"No, s'just... s'where the spirits go. To watch over you."
She's not making much sense, she realizes. She forces her eyes open, focusing on the bright pinprick in the east.
"S'just a story Chenoa used t'tell me. After my daddy died. Been thinkin' 'bout it a lot since... bein' alone in Colorada for so long..."
She shakes her head weakly, and quietly repeats the Indian folklore.
She's rambling a little, tired and a bit tipsy, and when she's done with the story she talks about her daddy's ranch, and the hired hands she'd grown up with. They were the closest things to family she had after her father's murder.
Chenoa was a Tonkawa Indian, and he'd told her many traditional folklores throughout her whole young life. Several she kept tucked away in the back of her mind. The story of death and Morning Star was one of the foremost that touched her.
"I could sure use the guidance, if nothin' else."