
I was stupid. Stupid to think I was moving forward without a catch. My hook came in the form of my dreams. Perhaps it was seeing Kam again after such a long absence.. perhaps it stirred up memories that I had supressed. Perhaps it made me realize just how lonely I really am. Now.. Shi always said.. How can you.. of all people be lonely with your own little tribe around you. He meant my children. But.. there is something lost in the company of family that does not replace the company of one you love. I love my friends.. I love my family.. my people.. etc. I miss loving. I wont step back and shake my head and say I do. Who in their right mind actually would? Not me. Ok well.. I might put up that front and boskshit my way around it. It's called selective avoidance. If I dont dwell on it.. maybe other's wont. Anyway... I got sidetrailed. My dream...
In it.. I was being called by one of my past. One that not only hurt me.. but tore my world right out from under me with His lies and deceit. He began to treat me and speak to me like nothing happened.. like He had not done anything wrong. I felt myself falling for His manipulations all over again. I was going to give into His wiles and forgive. But then I heard another voice... and another. A male and then a female. And only after waking and running from my wagon do I know who it was. The male I know was wishfull thinking on the part of my psyche. The female.. was Tarra. She had come to me.. I think on my own part. I dont think She would invade my dreams anymore as we spoke of. But Her words hung true and gave me strenght to ward off this night vision of whispers. I stood up to the Man in my dream and gave Him hell. I turned my back and walked away. His final words were... You'll be back... and the dream faded like a heavy blanket had been torn from me. I had to get out of that wagon... I needed air and sounds of the bosk in my ears. I was shaking and scaired. But I felt a swell of pride that I had resisted and walked away. Again.. it was my life and I reclaimed it.
I am not a painter. But I grabbed a brush from my wagon and a small jar of red paint. This night I visited all my friends that are considered family. Trustworthy and loved so deeply by me. On the sides of their wagons.. in a small spot that would not destroy the paintings on their own canvas'... I placed a small brush-stroked red feather. Fonce and Tarra got alittle more detail to their's. The feather was held in the talon's of a great winged beast.
I returned to my wagon's just as it was time to move the line again. Sliding into the saddle of the Red... I still couldnt shake the feeling I had. I would need to talk to someone. Two someone's.. and I needed to do it soon.
Skies... I hate the trail.






