Disclaimer: I don't own Witch Child
I wrote this over three years ago for an English assignment, just found it when I was sorting out my old school books, made some minor changes but tried to keep it essentially the same as I can barely remember the story and I didn't want to completely erradicate Jaybird's 'voice'.
Hopefully it's okay, please review :)
Diary of a Native American
More pale-skins have arrived from over the ocean, these ones have come to join those in the forest, the ones who fear us. They are wise to fear us, they have desecrated our holy stones and we will not tolerate any more disrespect, we would have already sent them back to where they came from if it were not for the strange spotty sickness they carry.
We are to lead the pale skins to the settlement of the others in a few days. Grandfather and I walked through the village today; it's the shortest way to the part of the forest we needed to go, I belive he wanted to take a look at the ones we were to lead – he won't let on but I'm sure he's as curious about them as me. He got a visit from the spirits a few nights ago but won't tell me what he's learnt. He says I will know when I'm ready; silly old man!
As we passed through the village I was astounded just as always, how to they bear the summer heat in their many tightly bound layers, you can see them swelter but still they refuse to adjust!
They were different to the last lot, less humbled. The other pale-skins deferred to the man in black as if he was their creator or salvation. These ones had respect but not adoration for the one in black.
I observed a pretty girl with ringlets; she looked scornful and scared but vain, even as she looked upon me in horror her hands unconsciously smoothed down her skirt. I felt granddad tense up at my sight and followed his gaze to another girl, she was standing next to the pretty one.
This girl was different, she stood straight and proud, surprised but not shocked and, most unusually, unafraid. Curious, interested and fearless, I stopped to stare, she didn't notice as she stared at granddad with eyes like a wolf. He turned away, nudging me into awareness and we on our way not looking back.
Granddad would not speak of it, he lay down at our resting place and though I was sure he was awake he remained stubbornly motionless until sleep took me into her gentle embrace. She had eyes like a wolf.