January 18th 1830
Frozen wilderness, United States of America, Border of Canada. Iroquois Longhouse
Personal Journal of Leon Wagner.
Eighth Entry.
I awoke this morning drowsy and aching with my soaking clothes removed, instead bundled in a buckskin shirt and comfortable furs. I looked around astonished at now being able to see the interiors of the massive longhouse. It was incredible. Nothing like I could have ever imagined.
At least a dozen people were all living together in the same home lined end to end with beds in between wooden support beams, with an inviting large fire pit smoldering brightly at it's center. Entire families, men, women, and children. Young and old. United under one roof in a common love and compassion.
And all staring at me.
I felt a stranger, an oddity and an invader all at once. I was certainly not their honored guest. I stared back in silence before grunting in discomfort as I tried to stand up. A middle aged woman approached while everyone else kept their distance from me. She had dark hair like everyone else but was adorned with blue earrings and a beautify crafted necklace made from beads the color of purple and white. The signature Iroquois colors.
She sat beside me and offered me a bowl of Three Sisters. So named because corn, beans, and squash were its main dishes and considered to be the Iroquois main supporters of life physically, and to some sense spiritually. Especially when sharing it with their tribe through long winters.
I sat there in silence before awkwardly accepting the food as she handed it gently to me. She smiled down at me in a somewhat warm but uneasy manner and managed to say thank you in English before leaving to rejoin her husband and two children by the fire. I could tell she did not trust me entirely but regardless wanted to show me kindness and a small amount of compassion for bringing one of their tribe back alive. A gesture I heavily appreciated even if it was a small one.
As I ate the food vigorously. I looked to the bed next to me and saw that Gliding Hawk was silent but still breathing with numerous people surrounding and comforting him as he slept. I was relieved at seeing him alive. But this left me wondering where they had laid his son.
I looked around aimlessly to the far end of the longhouse and noticed a young woman crying loudly with her family consoling her as she lay atop her knees engulfed in tears. I was confused as to why she was in such grief. I tilted my head up slightly as to see as to what she was kneeling over. I soon lowered my eyes away in shame for my insensitive curiosity.
She was clutching Mountain Wolf's cold hand tightly as she lay her head atop his bloodied chest in tears. I had only seen that strong a connection once between my mother and father. It was then I knew.
He was his wife.
And now his widow.