„Hovéhno éme'-tónovee'sėsanénove!! Né- nėševátamėsāne! E'seéstse'hēnȧhtse!“ „Put a little more clothes on! You are dressed pitifully! Put on a shirt!”, Netséméóná'e* admonished her. “Pfft, Ná-méanévėsáne naa ná-pėhévone'one!” “Pfft, I am wearing summer clothing and I am well dressed!”, Aénȯhé'ke** retorted with a determined look at her life companion who was snug deep in a buffalo robe reclining against a willow backrest by the cracking fire. “Ótahe! Né-pėhévė-sáne oha né-htahe'kon-ose!” “Listen! You are nicely dressed but you’ll freeze hard!”, Netse admonished her in that lovingly teasing voice which sometimes just drove her mad. Aénȯhé'ke had worked for days on her four-row breastplate and she was determined to wear it today. These four-row breastplates were the latest fashion now among warriors on the Plains. The Snake People*** had started wearing them first, and soon the little “hairpipe” bone tubes which they were chiefly made of had been all the rage at the trading posts. Far to the east a vé’hó’e factory owner in a place called Connecticut was making them for the Indian trade, making a small fortune on fashion-minded nôtaxeo’oo**** like Aénȯhé'ke. She neither knew nor cared who made them. All that mattered was the pretty result. Buying enough of them had cost her an arm and a leg in buffalo robes, and she had spent days cutting the little bone tubes to the right lengths to make them conform to her breasts when strung on leather thongs into several rows. When she put on her new lavishly beaded and fringed gauntlets that would protect her underarms against the sting of her bowstring, Netséméóná'e snorted mockingly. “Henova?!” “What?!”, blurted Aénȯhé'ke. “eee…“ „Seriously..?“, Netséméóná'e hummed, looking with a grin first at Aénȯhé'ke and then at the rifle Aénȯhé'ke would carry with her. Aénȯhé'ke tried to ignore her. She wanted to wear all the pretty things she had made over the winter at once, bow or no bow! Incensed by Netséméóná'e’s teasing, she grabbed her jewellery parfleche bag and took the large dentalium shell earrings she had made and put them on as well. Aénȯhé'ke took the little tipi mirror and marvelled at her new hair adornments. They looked really neat! “Pȧhávevé'késo…“ „Pretty Bird…“, Netséméóná'e chuckled. “He'kotoo'ėstse! Ná-ase…“ “Be quiet! I’m leaving…”, Aénȯhé'ke snorted, grabbing her rifle and stormed out of the lodge. “Né otá'távahe!!!” “You’re really stupid!!!”, were the last word from inside she heard before the door flap muffled any further words of admonition. A hand's width later***** she was standing atop a grassy knoll from where she had hoped to spot the first buffaloes of spring. She gasped in disappointment. Everything was shrouded in fog and she couldn’t see anything. Besides, she was shivering… Her new breastplate fit her nicely and had kept everything comfortably in place during the short gallop to the knoll. It worked just as well as the tight vests and jackets she had worn the previous summers when going out on hunts or war parties, and it certainly wouldn’t get as hot under this breastplate in summer as when wearing clothes. Yet, admittedly that wasn’t quite the problem right now. Aénȯhé'ke felt the coldmaker creeping down her bare back. She sighed. Netséméóná'e had been right. Spring was coming but not yet quite there. How long would she have to stay out in the chilly fog without losing face when returning to the lodge? Suddenly a foreign voice pierced through the fog just below the crest! “Benteen, where are you?! I can’t see squat in that soup!!!”, shouted a man’s voice in the syrup-like idiom of the vé’hó’e. “Over here Godfrey!”, called another man’s voice, just as unintelligible as the first one. “That’s Early April in Kansas, Benteen! Temperatures in the Fifties to Eighties, volatile weather at best. And with a bit of luck you might even get a hefty snow storm out of nowhere. Good news is the hostiles are likely still hunkered down in their winter camps. With a bit of luck…” The voices were just a few steps below her! Suddenly even Aénȯhé'ke’s hands felt cold. Instinctively she crouched into the grass and slowly robbed back to her pony, away from the cruel voices that meant danger and death. She had to warn the camp... _____________________ *Eagle Road Woman ** Hawk Woman *** Comanches ****Plural form of nôtaxe, meaning warrior or woman warrior. Cheyenne is a fairly gender-neutral language. ***** A form of measuring time - the time it takes the sun to move a hand's width across the sky. _____________________ Indian regalia made in Pegasus modeller and Marvellous Designer 4. Poser Pro 2014 – Reality 4.1 Plugin – LuxRender 1.5