[Fiction] A panther in the sky

[Wakinyan]

It had been over two months since he found them. When he approached they offered to let him travel with them to eat and a place to sleep. He pulled his weight as they traveled across the high plains of what on another world would have been Nebraska. They were Oglala Sioux heading south, following the massive bison herd as it migrated to its wintering grounds.

He didn’t use the name Wakinyan when he introduced himself. As they sat around the fire the first night the wood crackling and snapping as embers arose into the starry night sky many of them made fun of him. Calling him Nameless and lost boy. He didn’t mind, despite the teasing it felt good to be so welcome. Even with their welcome he knew they still felt unease, like the great raptor head of his true form was watching over his shoulder unhappy about the little human creature he had became so he could live among them.

Days passed he took long turns pulling the tipi sleds. They had no horses; the horse nation was no horse nation here. No Spaniard had ever came to leave their horses and the small groups of others Timeslip had mentioned had not yet let their horses get away from them to be assimilated by the native people’s. So going was slow as the people walked south. He feigned being tired but still others remarked at his strength and stamina.

It was a cold rainy night by the time they had set the camp, one which you would have rather it had been snowing rather than the cold rain the seemed to snuff the warmth from everything it touched. Wakinyan sat looking at the dog at the edge of the camp. The dog did not trust him; he had spent weeks trying to get the dog to warm to him. Offering food and kind words did little to coax the dog. Its brindle short fur bristled slightly as he urged it come to him. With a sigh he eventually gave up and returned to his small meal of roasted rabbit. He smirked as he ate, how easy it would have been for Ptesan-Wi to befriend the dog if she would have been here, it would have likely came to her without her saying a word, she never had to.

Tossing the remains of his meal to the dog (who then all too happily ate what he offered) Wakinyan turned back and entered the tipi with its small warming fire. He had not even settled in for the night when the tent flap pulled aside and a middle aged man entered wordlessly and sat down across from him. The silence lingered until Wakinyan could not stand it and spoke. “What is it Jumping Fox? Why do you stare and not speak?” The shaman shook the cold rain out of his hair seeming to take his time purposely. “Many of us do things that are a mystery to others.” He replied quietly. “Coming into a camp and telling no one your name.” His teasing example caused the younger man to narrow his eyes. “Have I worn out my welcome? Is that what you are telling me?” He started to get up but Jumping Fox waved him down. “No no. I am simply showing you there are reasons for things to happen that we might not get an answer for.”

The medicine man perplexed him, while some did not welcome him when he came into the camp the tall man with the sharp hawk nose had. He was grateful; it was older man's decision in the end and he would have kept looking for someone to take him. Otherwise his trip across worlds would have been wasted. The silence lingered for a moment before Jumping Fox spoke again. “I will start on the winter count soon. I wonder if Nameless would like to help me with it?” The young Nova didn’t seem to have the words to reply. The count was an honor, a buffalo hide that marked the passing of each year with a representation of an event that happened during that year. “I would like that.” Wakinyan said as he nodded and received a nod from the older man. “But what shall it be of, the Winter Count.”

“I considered the buffalo hunt.” Taking several dried leaves from a pouch Jumping Fox lit the end of the wad of leaves in the fire. The tobacco smoke drifted in streamers across the tent for a moment before the Lakota cupped the smoke and in several motions pulled it back and over his head. “But I think something more important needs to be recorded.”

The smoking leaves were passed over to Wakinyan and he also pulled the smoke over his brow and hair. “What is it you have in mind?”

The shaman smiled a knowing grin that hinted at something. “I think I shall put the great panther in the sky in the count this year.” Wakinyan broke eye contact with the elder a moment his face paling slightly. “What is the panther in the sky?” It was over, his cover was blown. Somehow this man had figured out his true form. He had been so careful, masking himself from sight and not skinchanging for a very long time. Still this wise man had seen through it. Jumping Fox waggled a finger skyward. “Tonight is not a good night.” He stood and arched his back working out the stiffness accumulated during a day of hard travel. “Maybe tomorrow night the panther will be revealed to us all.”

With that the older man left leaving Wakinyan alone. Thoughts raced through his mind. Should he leave, Should he just own up to what he really was? He liked these people, his people. As he laid back onto his bed of fur he stared upward at the hole in the tipi where the smoke and the rain battled one another. It wasn’t so bad, tomorrow he would admit to what he was and hopefully they would let him stay.