would Red Horse part her legs and send her into the land of passion.
The things she treasured were all gone, her husband, their two children, the great tepee that turned the north wind and their horse herd. Deer Woman felt pangs of guilt for not remaining and giving her family a proper burial. The spirits would have to forgive her. Besides they had sent her in headlong flight away from the destroyed camp into the fangs of the buffalo wolves who would kill her and shred her body into bloody parts for their own pleasure.
The slinkers on her back trail grew braver as the day lengthened. Despite the cold, the sun warmed her left side through the layers of blanket and leather. She appreciated the warmth. Still the breath escaping her lips turned to vapor and the sun’s glare burned her eyes.
After darkness fell on the snowfields, the cowardly yellow eyes would come in snarling and snipping at her. Finally when she could no longer scare them away with her screaming threats and the knife, they would charge in. First the leaders would shred her bare calves under the elk skin dress as they sought to pull her down. At the same time, she would be trying to fend them away from jumping at her tender throat while they tore at her back. With her finally down on the snow, the wolves would get braver, despite her screams. The copper smell of her wounds and the success of the braver ones would feed the desire of the others to rush in. Without honor, her blood would stain the snow as she died.
Their final attack, she knew, would not occur until after sunset. She raced to the next ridge and paused to catch her breath, she looked back across the sea of dazzling ice. The wolves were back there. Mere dark specs pacing back and forth in place. She even imagined seeing their great red tongues lolled out as they panted, acting bored. Waiting for her to go forth, wear herself down some more; they were patient killers and would follow.
Woman Deer with her leather skirt in her hands, plowed on with long strides. She hoped to see the smoke of another winter camp when she reached the next high point. She wished to find lodges of friends and relatives where she could share her losses before a warming fire. The leader of her camp, Chief Yellow Sleeve was dead too.
Finally on the crest, she shaded her eyes with the sides of her hands; she saw no camp—only more whiteness. She also knew viewing the empty land, when the sunset finally fell to her left, the wolves would close in and her life would end.
No one to hear her screams, She pledged in silence to die honorably. Soon she must find herself a place to make the final stand against the blood thirsty ones. Even for her own death she must plan.
The tormentors grew braver. They were finally close enough that when she stopped to gulp more air, she could see their long red tongues. However they would not look at her. Their yellow eyes averted from her stare. She knew when they sprung for her throat they would look at her. A shudder of raw fear made her shoulders quake.
The flat report of a powerful rifle forced her to whirl to see the shooter. The soldiers had found her. Deer Woman did not recognize the buckskin-clad figure as she floundered to stand in the deep snow. He stood in the stirrups to take aim and fired again at the confused wolves.
They savagely attacked the stricken member of the pack that yelped in pain from his wound and the bites of his pack mates. Some cowered close by, unsure whether to attack their brother or flee.
The stranger’s powerful black horse breathed great clouds of vapor and the string of horses heavily laden with packs remained behind him. His rifle belched more smoke and death. Another wolf pitched down and died without a whimper. The wounded one still cried, but the last shot proved to be enough for the other lobos. They left in great leaps racing across the sun’s glare to escape the brand of death that he dispensed.
Would he kill her next? She wondered as her hand
Cops (and) Robbers (missing pg 22-23) (v1.1)