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shone
silver on the backs of his legs as his hips moved rhythmically against hers.
                 Their
audacity had stunned Quick Fawn. What if someone found out? A man didn’t couple
with a girl. Red Knot would be beaten, and every sort of abuse heaped upon her
in punishment. And High Fox at the very least would be dishonored, at the worst
killed outright by Nine Killer and the Flat Pearl warriors.
                 Like
a shadow, Quick Fawn had faded into the cover of the trees, and placed a hand
to her pounding heart. She had glanced around, frightened, to reassure herself
that no one else was close.
                 The
next day, High Fox left with his father, Black Spike. Red Knot walked as if in
a private mist. She had a happy, moony look. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
Quick Fawn asked that afternoon. They were using heavy pestles, made from
straight branches, to pound corn kernels into flour. Each beat of the pestles
was accompanied by the hollow thump of wood. Together, they beat out a rhythm.
                 “Know
what I’m doing?”
                 “You
and High Fox!” Quick Fawn whispered. “I know about the two of you! But I’m your
friend. What if someone else finds out? You could be ruining your life!” Red
Knot laughed, her supple body flexing as she thumped the heavy pestle down on
the dancing corn in the mortar hollow. “No, my friend. Just the opposite. I’m
saving myself. Blessed bats, Quick Fawn. We’re going to be married, live the
rest of our lives together. He’s going to be a great chief someday, maybe even
Mamanatowick. And I’ll be his wife.”
                 Quick
Fawn frowned down into the powdered corn and hammered it with extra vehemence.
“I suppose that Hunting Hawk and Shell Comb have agreed to this?”
                 “Oh,
they will. I’m sure of it. Mother has always had her way with Black Spike, and Three Myrtle Village . Why would they object?”
                 “I
think your. sight has been blinded by High Fox’s radiance, my friend. The
Weroansqua and your mother never do things for convenience, or because someone
wishes. You are the granddaughter of a chief, the daughter of a woman who will
become chief. Remember that. You’re not like other people.”
                 Those
words had been prophetic. Less than a month before Red Knot became a woman, it
was announced that she had been promised to Copper Thunder.
                 How
well Quick Fawn recalled her friend’s eyes that day. Shock, disbelief, and
desperation all mixed together to turn that pretty face into a mask of crushed
hopes.
                 No,
I don’t want to become a woman. Let me stay as I am. Free, happy, and without
worries beyond my daily chores.
                 Everything
had come to a head early that very morning. In the darkness before dawn, Quick
Fawn had sneaked out to see her friend. Red Knot had spilled her plans: “I’m
running away with High Fox! We’re leaving at first light from Oyster Shell
Landing!”
                 Quick
Fawn rubbed her face, an empty feeling in her gut, as she recalled her
desperate pleas that Red Knot couldn’t run off, couldn’t betray her
responsibility and duty to the clan.
                 And
they’d argued, almost to the point of violence.
                 I
could have stopped her. Quick Fawn closed her eyes, seeing the triumph in Red
Knot’s face.
                 What
a fool her cousin was. The War Chief would hunt her down and bring her and High
Fox back in disgrace. Quick Fawn sighed, and pulled her knees up until she
could rest her chin on them. The forest had grown oddly quiet.
                 Quick
Fawn frowned at the prickle of premonition. On the point of hopping down to
resume her wood collecting, she caught a faint movement in the corner of her
eye.