I, Lakota Sioux scout Pale Horse, am the only survivor from my hunting party that was attacked by our sworn enemy the Pawnee. When I returned from scouting the movements of the buffalo I found my hunt brothers all slaughtered and mutilated so I vowed to make every Pawnee I meet suffer for it. I now have to make it back, through the Pawnee infested badlands, to my tribal home.
My jet black hair is fashioned into braids with my headband, moccasins, loincloth and bead choker all of traditional design. I am armed with a sheathed hunting knife hanging from my loincloth band at my left hip, I also have a hunting bow and quivered arrows. I am 20 summers and proud of my supple and muscular form that I like to show off and which helped me win many grappling tournaments against my village brothers; how I long to be there now.
The Pawnee realise there was a survivor of my hunting party and Pawnee war chief Black Wolf has sent a band of young braves to track down and kill me. They too are on foot and all are just clad in hide loincloth, moccasins and a headband with an eagle’s feather around their swept back black hair. They wear the simple war paint of two black stripes on each cheekbone and are armed with a combination of hunting knife, tomahawk and bow and arrows. They have spread themselves out amongst the the badlands in pairs to maximise their chances of locating and killing me.
I cannot make fire as the smoke and smell will alert my enemy so I must eat raw meat that I kill with my arrows. As I sit between boulders finishing off the last of a jackrabbit a small stone clatters down from the ridge above and behind me. I instinctively crouch low between the boulders looking up to the ridge where I see two Pawnee braves walking along the top of the ridge. They both then pause, looking down in my general direction and, to my horror, they both start to descend the scree slope down to my level. Are they tracking me!? I can’t take the risk of letting them both get to my position so I notch an arrow in my bow and, while they are still about 20 yards away, I step out from my cover and immediately take aim at the lead warrior. Before he can react to my appearance my released arrow enters his naked belly between his loincloth band and navel with a thwunk! as it hits his lower abdominals “aaarrrggghhhh!!” he cries, clawing at his belly and arching his back. As he falls backwards the other brave is raising his arrowed bow in my direction..... I quickly duck back behind the boulder as his released arrow ricochets off the boulder behind me. I immediately draw my knife and with a running roll spring from my cover towards the Pawnee who is just notching another arrow to his bow. On seeing me swiftly closing on him he drops his bow and reaches for his own knife as we clash. The force of my impact on him pushes his back against an outcrop of boulders with my left hand firmly gripping the wrist of his knife hand. Before the brave can grasp my knife hand the point of my knife is now entering his outie navel, just overcoming the firm resistance of his belly muscles, with a shhhkt! sound and his cry of “eeaarrrgghh!!”. He bucks and writhes on the point of my knife but I hold him standing there with my body pressed tightly against his. I stop my blade about two inches into his navel and stare directly into his pained brown eyes and say, “Pawnee, you and all your kind will suffer for what you did to my brothers”. With that I slowly push the blade in further “ayieeeeee!!” he cries as he drops his own knife. I then place my freed left hand over his mouth and ram my blade deeper into his bleeding navel “mmmphhhh!!” is his muffled response. Pulling the blade free of his belly I stab again!.....and again! into his taught abdominals “mmmmpphhh!!” all the time glaring into his fear and pain filled eyes. I can feel the brave’s hot blood pulsing from his belly wounds and, with a final stab to his lower gut, spfffhhhlt! I let the now dead Pawnee crumple to the ground. I walk over to the first brave who is slowly writhing, barely making a sound. I grasp my arrow and tear it from his belly with a sqwelp! sound “eeeaaarghhh!!” he cries. I then forcibly ram the arrow back into the wound “aaarrrghhh!!” and, using the shaft, begin agitating the arrow around in his lower belly as he writhes in pain “ayieeeee!!” “ayiee...... he then falls silent and his chest still as I recover my arrow.
As I make my way across the barren rocks I become aware of movement below me so I get down on my belly and crawl to the edge to look down. About twelve feet below me I see two lithe Pawnee bucks about eighteen summers. It would be deadly for me to take them both on like this so I decide to let them move away and wait before continuing on my way. However, they soon separate and the one remains below me, but where did the other one go? I wait for a while, watching and listening, but nothing, so I decide to strike and, pulling my knife, I jump onto the unsuspecting Pawnee brave. My momentum sends us both rolling to the ground with me on his back and my left forearm across his throat as I then roll onto my back putting him belly up, with his back against my belly. He tries to pull his own knife but it is too late for him as my knife is being thrust downwards into his flexing abdominal muscles just below his navel with an audible shhhkt! as he cries, “aiyeeee!!” and he writhes upon me and I stab again into his navel “aarrgghhh!!” and again! “urgh!!” I can feel his hot blood trickling from his sides and pooling on my belly. Having made no further sound or reaction to a final stab, I roll the brave’s limp body from me. As I stand up I am aware of a leaping form from the rocks above, just where I had leapt from. Now it is me being knocked to the ground by the weight and momentum of the other Pawnee buck as he lands on top of me “ooommmphfff!!”. As we roll on the ground we have hold of each other’s knife hand and we continue to struggle against each other for some time. By now we are both sweating and grunting and I can feel the warm squirming power of his toned body against me as he tries to gain advantage. I am already fatigued from my last fight and, my adversary being younger than me, I am now having difficulty holding his knife away from my torso. He seems to realise this and turns his body slightly off me to expose my belly to his descending blade as he snarls directly into my face with the look of hatred and impending victory in his dark brown eyes and says, “I will gut you now Sioux, like we gutted the rest of your hunting party”. I am now aware of his manhood becoming firmer against my own and the look in his eyes becoming more glazed as his squirming becomes more intense against me. Then his entire body spasms and I know this is the moment, so I use all my remaining strength to turn his knife from my belly towards his. With a forced thrust from me his own knife enters his navel with a satisfying shhhkt! as he cries out “eeaarrggh!!” and he spasms again. His knife hand releasing his knife I grasp it and twist the blade, still in his navel, in a downward direction to rip into his viscera “Aaarrrggghhh!!” he cries out as he writhes. Now it is his hot blood that pulses out over my belly until he slumps down, lifeless, on top of me. Rolling his body from me I mutter, “Premature ejaculation will do that to a youth”.
Sometime later I become aware of movement some distance behind me so I take cover, crouching down with my knife drawn. Soon a Pawnee about three summers younger than me goes past my hiding position. He is armed with a knife and tomahawk. I wait for a short while but no other Pawnee appears. So I decide to stalk this brave until it is safe enough to kill him. Suddenly I am aware this brave is coming back in my direction and, as I am about to seek cover, he appears before me. On seeing me he draws his knife and we start to slowly move towards each other, then he lunges, slashing at my belly. I counter and lunge at his lower gut which causes him to jump backwards. As he does I follow through, springing at him and grasping his knife hand and force him against a large boulder. The young Pawnee tries, but fails, to grasp my knife hand and I am about to gut him but there is something strange in the way he is looking at me that makes me pause. The young Pawnee is lean and with a toned belly. As I hold him here I play the point of my knife, slowly outlining his abdominals. He starts to sweat and his breathing becomes rapid and shallow as he tries to suck his vulnerable belly away from the point of my knife. His hazel eyes darting between my gaze and my knife as beads of his sweat ripple into the abdominal channels my knife is now outlining. He then says, “Sioux, they say you have the spirit of a cougar within you, spare my life and I will help the cougar”. I am now working the point of my hunting knife around the ridge outlining his outie navel to which he responds with a sharpe intake of breath. I say to him, “Drop your knife!” to which he says, “To drop my knife would be a cowardly thing for a warrior, if I am to die my spirit must be strong”. I say, “Very well, sheath your knife and prove yourself to the cougar”. I release my grasp on his knife wrist and the Pawnee brave pauses for a moment, looking intently into my eyes. I am ready to plunge my knife into his belly when he slowly sheaths his hunting knife. I say, “How are you known?” and he replies, “My name is Chokto”. Chokto then follows me until we come across two more Pawnee braves. I say to him, “The spirit of the cougar is watching you”, as I show him my bow with a notched arrow, “Now prove yourself to the cougar”.
The young brave approaches his tribal brothers and makes a greeting gesture they seem to acknowledge. Chokto goes up to the nearest one and starts laughing with him, Chokto then pats the Pawnee on his shoulder and keeps his hand there. I see Chokto quickly look in the direction of the other Pawnee who is continuing to scan towards the horizon. Chokto’s right hand then quickly reaches down for the Pawnee’s own knife at his waist, and before he can react Chokto buries it deep into the Pawnee’s lower gut. From my position I can hear the Pawnee’s cry of pain and surprise, “eeeaaarrrggghhh!!”...“ayieeeee!!” as Chokto’s blade tears up through belly muscle to the Pawnee’s navel and then he slumps to the ground. The other Pawnee, now seeing this betrayal, notches an arrow in his bow and levels it in the direction of Chokto. The Pawnee bowman’s belly is taught and sucked in as he steadies his breathing for this shot. But before he can release his arrow my arrow has found its mark, just above his navel.... thwuunk! The Pawnee just gasps, dropping his bow and, looking down at the protruding arrow from his belly, staggers backwards until my next arrow enters the left side of his chest, causing him to spiral to the ground.
Chokto makes his way back to me smiling, seeking approval in my eyes. I place my left hand over his shoulder and gently pull him sideways on to me, feeling the warmth of his side on my belly as he continues to look into my eyes like a trusting dog. I meet his gaze and say, “Chokto, if your own people cannot trust you, how can I!?” With that my knife enters his taught belly, just above his navel with a shhhkt! as he cries out, “urrgghh!!” through gritted teeth, still looking into my eyes but now with the look of surprise and pain. As his whole body tenses and jerks, I increase the pressure on my shoulder hold to prevent him moving away. Still holding my knife in his belly I push the blade down in a slicing action, “arrrrgggghhh!!” cutting right through his outie navel before I pull my knife free. He is now looking down at the bleeding three inch slit in his belly and clutches at his wound but the blood continues to flow out between his fingers as he falls onto his knees. Again he looks back up into my eyes before he slowly falls sideways to the ground. His firm abdominals preventing his entrails from spilling out, he gasps a few times and his body becomes still.
Pawnee war chief, Black Wolf, comes across yet more of his butchered braves and, looking skywards, cries out, “Aaaaiiiiayyynatahay!!”and, holding his own knife up, vows to kill the Spirit Cougar with it.
It is now getting dark so I can move with less chance of being spotted but the quarter moon is casting some light so I must still be cautious. I could smell the camp fire before I saw it, the smell of smoke and cooking meat. I crawl on my belly up to a ridge and, on looking down the other side, I see the silhouettes of two Pawnee braves in front of the fire. I should just go around them to avoid a fight but I’m hungry and I may get into an encounter with these two tomorrow anyway. I stay on my belly to avoid being seen in the moonlight and crawl down to get closer to their camp. I can now hear them talking to each other, mentioning the cougar spirit that springs out from the rocks. They’re talking about me, they also believe I’m the embodiment of a cougar that’s been killing off their war party. As I lay within ear shot one of the braves makes his way over in my direction so I freeze where I am. He stops nearby and pulls his loincloth aside to make water, but he’ll be bound to see me! So I slowly slip my knife from its sheath and spring up at the Pawnee, catching him completely off guard with a series of quick stabs to his abdominals before he can reach for his tomahawk on his waistband. He cries out as he drops to the ground clutching at his belly and I instinctively know the other Pawnee is already after me. I see his silhouette growing bigger and I reach down and grab the tomahawk from the injured brave’s waistband and hurl it in his direction. I hear a thunnk! and “urrgghh!!” from the warrior as he tumbles to the ground. I run over to him, my knife ready, but find him dead with the tomahawk buried deep in the middle of his chest. I now turn my attention to the first Pawnee. He is still alive and is now half standing clutching at his belly with his left hand and slashing his knife defensively in front of him. I decide to leave him like that while I go over to their fire and take the cooked meat and immediately extinguish the fire in case other Pawnee are nearby. I sit on a rock eating the meat and watch the now kneeling injured brave in the soft moonlight. The blood from his belly wounds run down and drip from his still exposed manhood. I recover my bow and quivered arrows and, standing only a few yards from him I say, “How are you known warrior?” the warrior replies in a guttural voice, “Naytey”. As I take aim he looks at me, there being no hatred or fear in his eyes, and he lowers his knife, fully exposing his chest to me as if to welcome the release my arrow will bring him. With a loud thwunk! the arrow enters the centre of his chest and, without crying out, the warrior falls back dead. I then curl up near the still warm embers of the fire but do not sleep as my senses are on constant alert.
As I continue on my journey it is now clear I am leaving the badlands behind me as there is thicker vegetation on the horizon and I can see a small lake in the mid distance. There being no sign of pursuit I decide to head for this lake for water and to clean the blood off myself before I continue on to my village about a full day’s walk away. When I arrive at the lake I strip off apart from my waistband into which I push my knife. I clean off as much blood from my traditional wear as I can and leave it to dry in the sun. I then walk into the deepest part of the lake and start to swim, allowing the water to cleanse me as I occasionally drink. Feeling refreshed I surface dive under the water which is cool and clear but my actions kick up some silt from the lake bed making the water a little murky. As I turn to make my way back to the shallows I become aware of a dark looming mass in the water in front of me. What!?.... suddenly out of the murkiness the war painted face of an approaching Pawnee warrior reveals itself in front of me, and, “urrgghh!!” I feel a burning to my left side and, as I pull my knife from my waist band, a billowing plume of my blood oozes from my side into the water. I spin around in the water trying to locate my attacker, getting a quick gulp of air as I do so, before again diving back under. Then from under me a glint of a knife’s blade heading up from the murk and right for my belly. I twist my whole body and just manage too grab the knife wielder’s wrist, preventing his knife from gutting me in the water. As I do I feel my own knife arm is being grabbed and suddenly I am face to face with the Pawnee and our bodies are belly to belly squirming against each other as we slowly spin in the weightlessness of the water. I try to turn my blade towards the Pawnee’s belly but we have equal strength so I then deliver a stunning head butt to him and, at the same time, I am able to lunge my blade into his abdomen. He bucks and writhes on the point of my knife but I hold on to him, feeling his warm pulsing blood on my belly and billowing out into the water. I am almost passing out from lack of air so I release him and quickly swim up for air and head to the shallows. There I collapse on my back clutching at the deep gash in my left side which still oozes blood into the shallow water around me as my eyes momentarily close. Suddenly I am alerted to a noise and I instinctively jump up with my knife at the ready. There, coming out of the water, is the Pawnee warrior who stops a few yards from me and we both eye each over. He has a bleeding stab wound to the left side of his belly. Like me he is naked but for a thong about his waist into which his knife is pushed, he is a little older than me but still lean and supple. We both stand, facing each other off with our wet bronzed bodies glistening in the sunlight and he says, “Cougar spirit, I am Pawnee war chief Black Wolf and you have killed many of my young braves. Now it is you who shall die by my knife”. With that Black Wolf pulls out his knife and, raising it skywards, cries “Aaaaiiiiayyynatahay!!” and then points his knife in my direction.
We then start to circle each other in a crouching manner, with our knives poised to thrust, searching for signs of weakness or distraction in our adversary. Suddenly Black Wolf just spits and immediately lunges forward at me, which catches me by surprise, but I also lunge forward at him and we clash like rutting stags, belly to belly defensively grasping for each other’s knife hand. Again we struggle against each other, our exposed manhoods also joining in the fight and rising to the challenge. As we wrestle I stumble on a large rock just under the water and we both fall with me landing on top of Black Wolf. Our wet naked glistening bodies locked in a deadly knife battle to overpower and kill our opponent. As our bodies squirm against each other I feel Black Wolf’s manhood moving against mine. Although we are both wounded and bleeding our adrenaline and survival instincts keep us equally matched. Our knives trying to stab at each other’s abdominals but being held off by the other’s defensive hand. I lose track of how long our stalemate struggle continued but it seems that my younger stamina is slowly starting to overcome Black Wolf’s strength until my knife is gradually getting closer to his torso. I then twist my body a little to expose his flexing abdominal muscles to my blade, as I do I can see in his brown eyes a hint of fear as his squirming increases in an attempt to avoid the point of my knife now about to pierce his navel. I stare into his eyes and snarl, “I avenge my brothers with your death war chief”. With that my blade slowly enters his navel as he bucks and writhes and cries out “aiyeeeee!!” through gritted teeth. I hold my knife deep in his belly and he spasms and bucks again, his manhood now pulsing with the pulsing of the blood from the fresh knife wound in his belly. Black Wolf is still alive and I say, “I feel your hot life’s blood pulsing against me and know that I, Pale Horse of the Sioux have defeated you in battle war chief. Our manhoods too have fought their battle and with this I claim the final victory”. I then again plunge my knife deep into his navel with a spfffhhhlt! and twist the blade “aaarrrrggghhh!!” but this time it is not just Black Wolf’s body that spasms.
Leaving Black Wolf’s body in the shallow waters surrounded by his billowing blood I make my way to the lakeside. My side wound burns and still oozes blood as I refit my traditional wear. I also find where Black Wolf discarded his loincloth, moccasins and tomahawk, I use his loincloth to wrap my wound and place the tomahawk in my waist band. Without the adrenaline of the fight I feel weak from blood loss but should I not make it back to my village then let my spirit be at one with the cougar.
