#Cheyenne River

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

It’s official: All nine of South Dakota’s tribes have now voted to ban Gov. Kristi Noem (R) from their lands.

The final tribe still holding out hope for a productive relationship with the state’s governor, the Flandreau Santee Sioux, made the decision to join their counterparts Tuesday, just a week after telling The Daily Beast that they had no plans to do so.

A tribal leader told the Argus Leader that the Flandreau Santee Sioux executive council made the decision after hearing from a number of citizens who urged them to banish Noem—saying that many on the reservation were “uncomfortable and upset” with the council’s decision to wait so long in the first place. One attendee of the council’s Tuesday meeting told the local newspaper that the matter led to a “pretty heated discussion.”

Noem angered Indigenous American communities earlier this year by suggesting that tribes in her state were in league with Mexican drug cartels and blaming Indigenous parents for their children’s poor academic performance—leaving them unemployed and with “no hope.”

The comments led to her to be rapidly declared persona non grata by most of the tribal nations in South Dakota, starting with the Crow Creek, Sisseton Wahpeton, Oglala, Cheyenne River, Standing Rock, and Rosebud Sioux tribes, which account for nearly all of the reservation land in the state—almost 20 percent of the its total area.

Leadership of the Yankton Sioux Tribe has also voted to express its support for a similar ban, though it has yet to make an official decision on the matter.

Prior to its decision, leaders of the Flandreau Santee Sioux tribe reportedly held one last meeting Sunday with Gov. Noem in the Capitol, one they described to the Argus Leader at the time as “respectful and productive.”

Noem released her own statement following the meeting, writing that it was “never my intent to cause offense by speaking truth to the real challenges that are being faced in some areas of Indian country.”

“It is my hope that the Flandreau Santee Sioux Tribe will give us the opportunity to partner together in a way that can be an example for all,” she added.

But just two days later, the tribe’s leadership committee decided that it just could not let her comments go unpunished.

“We need to stand in solidarity with our fellow tribes in South Dakota, the Očhéthi Šakówiŋ,” Tyler Rambeau, a tribal leader, told the local newspaper during a recess in Tuesday’s meeting. “We do not want to come up on the wrong side of history in this moment.”

When reached for comment on her banishment from tribal lands, Gov. Noem told The Daily Beast: “I only want to speak truth to the real challenges that are being faced in some areas of Indian Country. I want to focus on solutions that lead to safer communities for all our families, educational outcomes for all our children, and declining addiction numbers for all our people. We cannot tackle these issues without addressing the problem: dangerous criminals who perpetuate violence and illegal activities in all areas of our state. We need to take action. It is my hope tribal leadership will take the opportunity to work with me to be an example of how cooperation is better for all people rather than political attacks.”

[westrivereagleofficial]

Iron Lightning Baptism Posted on our website on July 25, 2023 The Wakinyan Maza tiospaye/Iron Lightning family celebrated the baptism of Mason Curley at the 38th Annual Wakiyan Maza Wokiksuye/Iron Lightning Powwow on July 4, 2023, officiated by Revs Ellen Huber and Kurt Huber of the Cheyenne River Episcopal Mission. L to R: Joe Garreau, Jayellen Curley, Chy Castro holding Mason Curley, Taison Redfox, & Lynda Charger.

Photo courtesy of Ellen Huber.  See stories like these and more — link in bio!

#IronLightning #CheyenneRiver #EagleButte #SouthDakota #WestRiverEagle

[marinaishealing]

South Dakota's Bazille is Wakinyan Cante Waokiya Wicasaon

Whether its the Bronx or the Black Hills, All Rap is Local Attributions All photos and graphic elements featured in collages copyright of Bazille, used with permission. All collages and writing by Sylvia Marina Martinez Map in featured collage created by thefirstscout.blogspot.com and used with permission I’ve always thought of rap as a form of folk music or street journalism such that it is…

[tomorrowusa]

Gov. Kristi Noem, a Trump lickspittle, is banned from 15% of her state of South Dakota. She is one of the contestants for the number two position on Trump's national ticket.

As South Dakota governor Kristi Noem vies for a top position in a second Trump White House, she appears to be more focused on shoring up her vice-presidential chances than on making allies at home — to the point that she is no longer welcome in around 15 percent of the state she governs. Over the past few months, Noem has made several comments about alleged drug trafficking on Native American reservation lands, infuriating a number tribes in the state. In February, the Oglala Sioux Tribe banned her from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, the fifth largest in the United States, for claiming without evidence that drug cartels were connected to murders on the reservation. The ban did not dissuade her from making more incendiary remarks. In March, Noem said at a community forum in Winner that there are “some tribal leaders that I believe are personally benefiting from cartels being there and that’s why they attack me every day.” When tribal leaders demanded an apology, Noem doubled down, issuing a statement to the tribes to “banish the cartels.” In response, the Cheyenne River Sioux forbade Noem from setting foot on their reservation, the fourth largest in the U.S. On Wednesday, the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe, the sixth largest in the U.S., banned her as well. On Thursday, a fourth tribe, the Rosebud Sioux, followed suit.

So far, four tribes are banning Noem:

Oglala Sioux

Rosebud Sioux

Cheyenne River Sioux

Standing Rock Sioux

Alleged drug cartels on tribal lands in South Dakota are the local equivalent of millions of migrants illegally voting in 2020. Bullshit is not just a GOP specialty but a dedicated lifestyle.

[scrollsofhumanlife]

Corrine Skye Killsprettyenemy

Born July 10 1950 on the Standing Rock Reservation (Íŋyaŋ Woslál Háŋ) in Fort Yates, North Dakota

Oakland, California

[justsamssimsdump]

[geezerwench]

South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem (R) is now banned from all tribal lands in the state after the Flandreau Santee Sioux Tribe voted to bar her from their reservation Wednesday, citing her repeated claims that tribal leaders work with drug cartels.

Noem sparked the controversy in March when she said tribal leaders benefit from the presence of cartels operating on their land.

“We’ve got some tribal leaders that I believe are personally benefiting from the cartels being there, and that’s why they attack me every day,” the governor said at a forum in March. “But I’m going to fight for the people who actually live in those situations, who call me and text me every day and say, ‘Please, dear governor, please come help us in Pine Ridge. We are scared.’”

[olowan-waphiya]

Tribal Leaders Sign Historic Co-Stewardship Agreement with National Forest Service in the Black Hills

“This landmark co-stewardship effort will feature storytelling in various formats at the Pactola/He Sapa Visitor Center, educating the larger public and helping current and future generations of Native People connect with their own creation stories and cultural identities.

On June 6, leaders of the Cheyenne River, Standing Rock, Oglala, Rosebud, and Crow Creek Sioux Tribes gathered in the He Sapa — the Black Hills — to sign an historic Memorandum of Understanding at the newly renamed Pactola/He Sapa Visitor Center with U.S. Forest Service officials. Together, they’re beginning a process of sharing Indigenous cultural heritage with visitors from all over the world. Leaders said that they want to see young, Native children visit the Black Hills and experience the importance of the landscape with a deep understanding of their own heritage.

Previously known as the Pactola Visitor Center, the seasonal facility welcomes more than 40,000 visitors annually from Memorial Day through Labor Day — and approximately another three million people pass through the area each year.

This effort has been several years in the making, though the process hit a snag during the Trump years. When tribal leaders initially proposed the concept to the U.S. Forest Service in 2018, the idea was heard but not taken seriously. Persistence pays, however, and the efforts of many relatives and allies eventually led the Forest Service to agree.

We hope this is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s critical that Lakota — and all Indigenous — stories and history be shared from an authentic perspective with those who visit our homelands. To that end, please stay tuned this summer. I can’t tell you too much about it yet, but we’ll soon be launching an ambitious program that can help ensure Native stories are told — and Native tribes are funded — on occupied Indigenous homelands across Turtle Island. “

Via the Lakota People’s Law Project

[westrivereagleofficial]

Letters To The Editor Policy: The West River Eagle welcomes letters up to 250 words. Letters to the editor are limited to one per month per person. Profanity, name-calling, or personal attacks will not be published, nor will letters deemed to be in poor taste. Libelous or slanderous statements will also not be published. Letters to the editor must be clear, accurate, and signed by the author. For verification purposes, letters to the editor must include full name, home address, and day and evening phone numbers. Contact information is for our purposes only – we will not share it with anyone else. Anonymous letters and letters written under a pseudonym will not be printed. Letters may be edited for length, grammar, and accuracy. Letters will be published on a space-available basis, and there are no guarantees they will be published the week they are submit­ted. The West River Eagle will not accept letters to or about political candidates 30 days before an election. *Letters to the editor are not the views of the West River Eagle staff – they are solely the opinions of the author.  To submit a letter to the editor, send an email to office@westrivereagle.com

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#westrivereagle #oglalalakota #lakota #cheyenneriversiouxtribe #cheyenneriver #eaglebutte #southdakota

[uwmspeccoll]

Indigenous People's Day

DR. HENRIETTA MANN Cheyenne

On this Indigenous People’s Day, we are featuring Matika Wilbur’s recent publication Project 562: Changing the Way We See Native America, published by Ten Speed Press in 2023. Wilbur (b. 1984) is a visual storyteller and member of the Swinomish and Tulalip peoples of coastal Washington. She holds a degree from the Brooks Institute of Photography alongside a teaching certificate that has shaped her style of educating through narrative portraits.  

Project 562: Changing the Way We See Native America, a book born from a documentary project of the same name, resolves to share contemporary Native issues and culture. In 2012 Wilbur set out from Seattle to visit and photograph all 562 plus Native American sovereign territories in the United States.

Wilbur’s engagement with the communities she visited resulted in the creation of hundreds of dynamic portraits and documentation of conversations about “tribal sovereignty, self-determination, wellness, recovery from historical trauma, decolonization of the mind, and revitalization of culture.” She refers to her portraiture approach as “an indigenous photography method” that includes several hours and sometimes days of interaction with the participants, an exchange of energy and gifts, and asking sitters to choose their portrait location. The outcome is a stunning collection of Native narratives and portraits.  

GREG BISKAKONE JOHNSON Lac Du Flambeau Band of Lake Superior Chippewa Indians

HOLLY MITITQUQ NORDLUM  Iñupiaq

J. MIKO THOMAS Chickasaw Nation

MOIRA REDCORN Osage, Caddo

HELENA and PRESTON ARROW-WEED Taos Pueblo/Kwaatsaan, Kamia

STEPHEN YELLOWTAIL Apsáalooke (Crow Nation)

LEI'OHU and LA'AKEA CHUN Kānaka Maoli

ORLANDO BEGAY Diné

KALE NISSEN Colville Tribes

GRACE ROMERO PACHECO Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians

ISABELLA and ALYSSA KLAIN Diné

NANCY WILBUR Swinomish

DR. JEREMIAH "JERRY" WOLFE Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians

RUTH DEMMERT Tlingit

MARVA SII~XUUTESNA JONES Tolowa Dee-Ni' Nation, Yurok, Karuk, Wintu

Matika Wilbur will be speaking on UW-Milwaukee's campus Thursday, November 16 from 6-7p.m. in conjunction with her exhibition Seeds of Culture: The Portraits and Voices of Native American Women on view at the Union Art Gallery November 16 through December 15, 2023. 

-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern 

We acknowledge that in Milwaukee we live and work on traditional Potawatomi, Ho-Chunk, and Menominee homelands along the southwest shores of Michigami, part of North America’s largest system of freshwater lakes, where the Milwaukee, Menominee, and Kinnickinnic rivers meet and the people of Wisconsin’s sovereign Anishinaabe, Ho-Chunk, Menominee, Oneida, and Mohican nations remain present.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Marcella Ryan LeBeau is a member of the Two Kettle Band of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe and lives in Eagle Butte, South Dakota. Her Lakota name is Wigmuke Waste Win (Pretty Rainbow Woman) Her great-grandfather, Chief Joseph Four Bear (Mato Topa), signed the Fort Laramie Treaty in 1868. Her grandmother, Louise Bear Face, was related to Rain In The Face who took part in the Battle of the Little Horn.

Marcella served as a nurse in WWII becoming a 1 st Lieutenant in the Army Nurse Corps. The army service took her from the USA to Wales, England, France, and Belgium. Since receiving the French Legion of Honor Award on June 6, 2004, in Paris France, on the occasion of the 60th Anniversary of D-Day, Marcella has been requested to participate at many Veterans’ events, speaking of her military experience in World War II. Marcella served one term as District 5 council representative for the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe. She is also honored to speak to the youth at elementary, high school, and college venues when she is invited.

In 1992 and 1995 Marcella and her son, Richard went to Glasgow, Scotland with interest in the return of the Ghost Dance Shirt that was taken from Wounded Knee in 1890. After negotiations, the ghost shirt was returned by the Kelvin Grove Museum. George Craeger, with the Buffalo Bill Wild West Show, sold some artifacts to the museum and donated a Ghost Shirt. It’s now held at the Heritage Cultural Center at the South Dakota Historical Society in Pierre, South Dakota.

After retiring as the Director of Nursing from the Indian Health Service in Eagle Butte, Marcella, and her granddaughter, Bonnie opened a machine quilting shop located in Eagle Butte. They make a variety of quilts. The main feature of their shop is the star quilt frequently used by the Lakota people for honoring and naming ceremonies, memorial give-aways, etc. which are traditional of this area’s native people.

Marcella having raised a family of eight children is an advocate for the Lakota language and culture, youth, veterans, elderly, upholding treaties, and wellness.

Credit: text & photos from wisdomoftheelders.org

[bumblesimagines]

Our Flickering Light

Part 3

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"Ugh! What the fuck is that?" 

Snorting softly to himself, (Y/N) glanced up at Ellie. She'd hardly wiggled out of her sleeping bag yet, her tired squinted eyes staring down at the brewing coffee with a small scowl. Her lip curled slightly and she flipped the lid back over to cover the bubbling black coffee, a soft huff escaping her before she dramatically fell back onto the ground, still bundled in her sleeping bag, and rested her head on her backpack-turned-pillow. Joel shook his head lightly, pushing his rolled-up sleeping bag into the truck bed and securing it. 

"Get up, Ellie." He called, earning a defiant groan in response. Joel rolled his eyes and sighed quietly, stepping over the dozing girl and crouching by the brewing coffee. He poured some steaming coffee into his thermos, swirling it around in thought before bringing it to his lips and carefully taking a sip. Smacking his lips and nodding approvingly, Joel poured the remainder into a spare cup and stood up with a soft grunt. He spared Ellie a glance, nudging her back with the front of his boot and stepping over her again to offer (Y/N) a cup. "You like coffee?"

"I haven't had it in a long while, actually." (Y/N) revealed softly, biting back the urge to yawn. He blew softly into the cup, feeling the steam rise and caress his face, warming his skin from the early morning chill. He pressed his lips against the cup and took a small sip of the black coffee, his nose immediately crinkling at the bitter taste that invaded his taste buds. Joel chuckled and continued to drink his coffee as if it were the sweetest thing in the world while Ellie sluggishly got up. 

Reluctantly drinking the rest of the coffee - and debating if he should've just chucked it away for the sake of his tongue - (Y/N) watched Joel move around their temporary camp, collecting the remaining things on the ground and packing them away in the trunk. He rinsed the cup and put it away along with the rest of their utensils before shuffling through some bags until he found an apple and a small bottle of water to give Ellie for breakfast. She accepted it without a word, eyes still squinty with sleepiness and her movements clumsy as she climbed into the truck.

Joel carefully drove them out of the forest and back onto the road, the smell of coffee from his thermos slowly filling the inside of the car and making Ellie crinkle her nose. She finished her apple in no time, chucking the stem out the window and wiping the juices off her lips with the sleeve of her shirt. "Smells like burnt shit," Ellie commented, unscrewing the cap of her water bottle and drinking from it. "Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?"

"Well, theirs was a lot fresher than what Bill saved up but, yeah, this is what they sold," Joel murmured, making eye contact with Ellie through the rearview mirror and loudly slurping from his thermos again. A quiet giggle slipped from (Y/N), his head snapping back to the map in hand when Joel glanced at him. "Eyes on the map."

"Mhm," (Y/N) giggled again, tracking the road they were on with his finger until he found the road they needed to turn onto. His seat shifted slightly when Ellie grabbed onto it, her head peeking over his shoulder to observe the map he held. "So, it's... 76 West and 70 West for a while."

"Huh... where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?" Ellie asked, strands of her messily tied back hair tickling (Y/N)'s temple.

"Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody," Joel answered, sparing the map a glance. (Y/N) and Ellie scanned the map, looking for Cody in the sea of cities, towns, and street names. Cheyenne, Casper, Lander, Jackson, Pinedale, Fort Bridger... ah, there it was. Nestled along the Shoshone River and at the foot of some mountains sat the small town of Cody. It sat decently far from where they were. (Y/N) tapped on it on the map to show Ellie, her brows instantly lifting.

"Man, that is deep up in there," Ellie blew a raspberry. "And if he's not there?"

A flicker of a frown appeared on Joel's face. "Then... odds are he'll be near a settlement, probably close to another city out there. Ain't too many of 'em in Wyoming." He responded, and (Y/N) turned his head to look at him, catching the quick grimace. He'd never been told much about Joel's younger brother, only a few scarce facts here and there. Tommy Miller was Joel's younger brother whom he'd always recalled with a fond look. They'd survived the first years of the outbreak together before parting for reasons Joel never seemed too keen on recalling. He remembered Tess mentioned Tommy having been briefly involved with a Firefly, hence Joel wanting to locate and take Ellie to him.

"What's his name?" Ellie suddenly asked, sitting back in her seat properly and peering at Joel curiously. "Your brother's, I mean."

"Tommy."

"Younger or older?"

"Younger."

"Why isn't he with you?" 

"Ellie." (Y/N) piped in warningly, moving slightly around in his seat to look at the girl. His eyes flickered down to her waist and he arched a brow at the lack of a seatbelt. Ellie pursed her lips and slid back against the middle seat, tugging on the seatbelt until it reached its end before clicking it in. Smart ass. (Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle and roll his eyes, shifting back around to catch Joel taking quick glances at him. The ends of his lips shifted upwards slightly in the form of a thankful smile before his eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror to catch sight of the awaiting girl. He sighed, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel.

"Tommy's what we used to call a 'joiner.' Dreams of becomin' a hero. So he enlisted in the army right outta high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm. It's what they called that war- it doesn't matter. Point is, bein' in the army didn't make him feel like much of a hero. Cut to 12 years later, the outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group makin' their way up to Boston, which I did to keep an eye on him.. keep him alive. It's.. where we met Tess. And that whole crew, we-" Joel paused, taking a sip of the last few drop of coffee in his thermos and swallowing thickly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the mere mention of Tess. (Y/N) reached out, brushing his fingers over Joel's knee comfortingly. "For what it was, it worked. Then, Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin' the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was 18. Wants to save the world... pipe dream. Him, the Fireflies, all of 'em, delusional. 'Course, last I heard, he quit the Fireflies, too. Now he's on his own out there... and I gotta go get him."

A momentary silence followed as they took in the new information, the vulnerability from Joel by opening up about his beloved family member, about his past, even if just a brief mention. Ellie spoke first, softly as she stared out at the long road ahead of them. "If you don't think there's hope for the world, why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?"

"You haven't seen the world so you don't know," Joel said with a hint of a bite. "You keep goin' for family. That's about it."

"I'm not family." Ellie pointed out quietly.

"No, you're carg-"

"You're the hope, Ellie." (Y/N) chimed in, his fingers running over the worn edges of the map in his hands. "Even if whatever the Fireflies have in store doesn't work, you're still immune. Your existence is evidence that we can evolve, that we can survive. Or at the very least, future generations have a chance at immunity. Humans have been around for hundreds of years. We evolve and change with time. Who knows how many people are like you, Ellie? Who knows how many there will be like you in the future? I... don't have family. My mother is dead, my stepfather is probably dead, my fathers.... but I have you two now. So, I keep going for both of you and the hope that comes with your immunity." 

Another silence, this one a more stunned one. (Y/N) gazed down at the map, looking at nothing in particular while their stares burned into the side of his head. He carefully folded the map so it wouldn't take up so much space and lifted his head, glancing at the time on the barely visible clock. "You should get some sleep, Ellie. We woke up pretty early." He said, setting the map on his lap and looking out into the vast openness around them. 

"You should get some sleep." Joel butted in softly. "You were up all night." 

"I'll try." 

                    ︽        ︽       ︽       ︽       ︽       ︽

The soft sound of the car door closing roused (Y/N) from his slumber, a quiet yawn leaving him as he pushed himself up in his seat. He adjusted the seatbelt digging into the side of his neck and took a quick survey of his surroundings, noting the station they were parked at and the view of tall buildings in the distance ahead. He glanced at the backseat where Ellie lied curled up, using her backpack as a pillow again and sleeping soundly with a line of drooling trickling down from her parted lips. He released a huff of amusement and glanced at Joel as he settled in his seat and started the car. 

"Stopped to get fuel." He told him, driving back onto the road and continuing toward the city. (Y/N) hummed quietly and took a peek down at the map still resting on his lap, searching the road they'd been on before he fell asleep until he found a name. Kansas City. He knew hardly anything about Kansas City besides the sports team his stepfather had often rooted for, but it seemed decently big based on the map. Joel glanced at him a few times, each glance lasting longer than the last until (Y/N) finally noticed. 

"What is it, Joel?" 

His lips pursed, arm propped up on the windowsill, and fingers lightly scratching the side of his head. Joel sighed quietly, taking another glance at him. "You're family, you know. I know we never spoke much or anythin' but you are family to me. I... care about you. Tess cared about you, too. I... listen, I ain't good with words but-"

"I get it, Joel." (Y/N) smiled gently, a warm feeling settling over his chest. He felt his cheeks tingle lightly with heat and looked forward again, fingers toying with the edges of the map. 

He watched the penned chickens, a handful of chicken scratch in his hand waiting to be tossed and gobbled up by the feathered animals. He hated the sight of them when they were ill. Sluggish, tired, barely moving. His chickens were always so alive, always acting up and getting into trouble, but now the four of them barely clucked. (Y/N) sighed quietly and sprinkled some of the chicken scratch in front of the rooster, Sir Plucks. The glutton pecked at the ground but made none of his typical moves to greedily defend his food. He simply ruffled his wings in a tired manner and made soft, quiet noises. 

"Come on, buddy." He murmured. Bill hadn't even shouted at the damned bird for weeks, the visible pity for it only solidifying its incoming doom. At least he'd restrained himself from talking about cooking them. "You need to wake us up every morning. You're our alarm, remember?"

The hens were no different. Eggatha, Henrietta, and Pecktunia huddled together, slow in their pecks at the food around them. They'd often push and shove over food, pecking at each other and circling his feet for more. They only stared at him when they finished, their once jerky movements dimmed with their lack of energy. He reached out, running his hand over Pecktunia's soft, feathery back. She'd always been his favorite. The neediest out of the four, always trying to follow him out of their pen and the first to greet him each morning and evening. 

"Hey, kid." The gruff voice of Joel greeted him and the chickens startled, their feathers puffing and heads turning to take in who they considered a stranger as soft squawks left them. (Y/N) straightened at the sight of Joel and dumped the rest of the chicken scratch where the chickens could reach it before wiping his hand on his pant leg and getting up from the ground. 

"Hi, Joel." He greeted, carefully stepping around the girls and slipping out of the pen. Joel eyed the chickens inside, his lips quirking into a faint grin when the rooster puffed his feathers at him again. His eyes slipped away from the animals and the serious, almost stern look returned to his features. 

"Heard about your chickens," He started, nodding toward them before lifting his hand and offering a book. "I, uh... I thought a new book might cheer you up. I wasn't sure what you'd like and we ain't got many options in the QZ but... here. I hear the author's good- was good, at least. If you don't want it, that's fine-"

"Thank you, Joel." (Y/N) smiled brightly, taking the book into his hands and brushing away some of the dust that had collected on it. American Gods by Neil Gaiman. His first official gift since the outbreak, and it'd come from Joel Miller of all people. A fluttery feeling invaded his stomach and he dug his teeth into the inside of his cheek, looking back up at him. He moved forward, enclosing Joel in a swift, quick hug. "Thank you... it means a lot."

He still had the book. He'd taken it from his bedroom shelf after Joel and Ellie's arrival and packed it into his backpack, both for entertainment and the memory it carried. Possibly the beginning of Joel viewing him as more than someone he happened to know outside the Qz, as more than the kid of his friends. But he knew for certain it'd been the moment Joel Miller stopped being just his fathers' friend to him. It was silly, stupid even. Joel was much older than him, a middle-aged man who'd be nearing his sixties in a few years and had enough burdens resting on his shoulders. A man like Joel had already experienced most of what life had to offer: he'd had a kid, found and lost love, made and lost friends, joined and quit jobs. After everything he'd gone through, he'd likely enjoy living the rest of his life in peace and solitude without some twenty-nine-year-old bothering him.

"Damn," Joel cursed softly, straightening up in his seat. Rows of abandoned cars were scattered across the road leading into Kansas City with a large truck blocking the road right before the bridge. It almost looked strategically placed, blocking anyone from entering or leaving the city. Or perhaps Bill's teachings on 'trust no one and question everything' were too engrained in his head to let him think clearly. Joel's brows remained in a fixed furrow, his eyes darting around to take everything in. He stepped on the brake, the corner of his lip quirking when Ellie's body rolled off the backseats and thumped loudly on the floor. 

"Asshole." She hissed, roughly grabbing the back of his seat and wiggling herself out of the tight space. Ellie huffed, blowing strands of hair out of her face and glaring at Joel through the rearview mirror as she picked up her backpack. (Y/N) dug his teeth into his bottom lip and snorted softly, adjusting his seating position and tugging his rifle onto his lap to check the rounds it had while Joel climbed out of the truck to inspect the area. "Where are we?"

"Kansas City." (Y/N) answered, rubbing his finger into the rough texture of the strap and watching Joel crouch down in front of the truck to peer underneath into the tunnel. "Home to the, uh.. Chiefs, I think. They were a football team from back in the day. Apparently, they weren't any good but people still rooted for them." 

Joel stood up, the frown on his face enough to tell (Y/N) they'd need to switch course and choose a different road. He hummed quietly and shifted his rifle around to expand the map out on his lap, feeling the car dip slightly as Joel got back in. He craned his neck to look at the map, his finger pointing to the road they were on and backtracking until they found another connecting road. Joel clicked his tongue and leaned back in his seat, staring forward in thought. "Screw it." He murmured. "We can jog right around this tunnel, take the next ramp, and we're back on the road. Minute tops."

The moment they entered the city, an uneasy pit settled in (Y/N)'s stomach, rising to his chest with a heavy weight that demanded attention. He'd seen deserted towns and cities before, sure, but something was gravelly off about Kansas City. No signs of infected or FEDRA or the people that once occupied it. It'd been years since his stay at the Baltimore QZ, and back then, he'd heard of the Kansas City being among the QZs up and running. If the QZ had fallen, there'd be signs of it, signs of infected roaming around ready to add them to their numbers. 

"(Y/N), eyes on the map. We need to find the highway." Joel's voice snapped him out of his racing thoughts.

"Right, sorry, I... I don't like this place." (Y/N) exhaled sharply, fumbling with the map and trying to track down the road they were on. So many roads, so many names. Why were maps so difficult to read? "Didn't they have a QZ?" 

"Is that it?" Ellie's voice prompted Joel to step on the brakes again, the abrupt stop lurching their bodies forward and making the seatbelt dig into (Y/N)'s stomach. He grunted softly and tore his eyes away from the map to look at the abandoned, ghostly entrance to the QZ. The doors were wide open but no signs of FEDRA or its residents having fought back against any infected. No bodies, no vehicles. "Where the fuck is FEDRA?"

"Hey!" A voice called out, bringing their attention back onto the road in front of them and toward a man staggering out onto the road. (Y/N)'s eyes dropped down onto the side he clutched. No blood. (Y/N) tucked the map away between his seat and the gear shift, his hands moving slowly to grab his backpack from the floor and slide it back on. "Please! I need help!"

"Ellie put your seatbelt on," Joel instructed sharply, fumbling for his own seatbelt and clicking it on. Ellie leaned back in her seat, her eyes jumping between the three of them as she clicked her seatbelt in and pulled her backpack onto her lap.

"Aren't we going to help him?"

"No." 

Stepping on the accelerator, Joel held on tightly to the steering wheel and made a direct beeline for the man. The man cursed and ran out of the way, shouting up to someone standing on the fire escape ladder who proceeded to drop a cement block down on them, successfully hitting the windshield but not enough to shatter it completely. Their luck proved shortlived when a row of barely visible spikes on the road popped all four of their tires and a man sprang out from the alleyway, gun in hand, and aimed at them. Joel swerved out of the way, crashing through the window of a convenience store. 

"Jesus," (Y/N) exhaled, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

"Ellie, you okay? You not hurt or nothin'?" Joel questioned, unbuckling his seatbelt as well and grabbing his rifle from the backseat. Ellie exhaled shakily and offered breathless answers before yelping at the sound of gunshots firing through the air. (Y/N) tossed the car door open and jumped out, ducking down to open Ellie's door and help her out. Her hands clung to him tightly, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm. 

"Get down." He whispered to her, feeling her flinch at each gunshot as they crouched down behind the truck, using it as a shield to protect them from the bullets.

"Give us your shit, you make it through this!" Raiders. (Y/N) had his knowledge of them, of their ruthlessness and greediness in taking anything and everything they could. A group of them had attacked them once, twice before back home. It'd been the first time (Y/N) had used his rifle on another human. The first time he'd shot at someone and hit his target. View them as infected, Bill had told him once, and it makes it a whole lot easier, kid.

"You see that hole, Ellie?" Joel panted, nodding toward the hole in the wall and swallowing thickly when Ellie nodded. She squeaked softly when a bullet shattered the window above them, her widened eyes full of fear. "When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you don't come out until I say, okay? Look at me, Ellie! They're not going to hit you. You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet." 

"Okay," Ellie whispered shakily. (Y/N) shifted carefully to get into a crouching position, turning his back to the two and eyeing the shelf beside the truck. He held the rifle tightly in his hands, setting his finger over the trigger and taking in a deep breath. The gunshots eased, signaling the men were reloading.

"Go!" At Joel's shout, (Y/N) darted forward to hide behind the shelf and lifted his rifle, aiming at the second man and taking a shot. The bullet whizzed past the man's head and he quickly ducked down behind a car. The gunshots between Joel and the first man continued until Joel took a third shot at them and the man collapsed onto the ground. 

"You motherfuckers!" The second man shouted and (Y/N) made use of his scope, turning his attention onto the first man's body and waiting. He watched a hand reach out toward the leg of the man and he pulled the trigger, a loud curse leaving his target when the bullet no doubt left a hole in his hand. 

His focus on his target was quickly disrupted when the door behind them swung open. He whirled his head around to look at the third raider who made a beeline for him but Joel charged toward him, slamming the back of his jammed rifle into the jaw of the man. The two got into a scuffle, falling onto the concrete floor and wrestling around. A cry full of rage and pain came from in front of him and he turned in time to spot the wounded man staggering toward him, one arm lifted toward him with a pistol. Before he could pull the trigger, a gunshot rang out from behind him, hitting the man square in the chest. (Y/N) turned to find Ellie with an all too familiar-looking handgun in hand, her widened eyes following the man as he collapsed on the floor with a wheezy, pained gasp. (Y/N) reloaded the rifle and put the withering man out of his misery.

A grunt of pain from Joel grabbed his attention and he moved quickly, slamming his foot into the guy's side to knock him off Joel before pressing his foot against his chest and aiming for the head. Joel gasped and coughed for air, bringing his hand up to his throat and pulling himself up into a sitting position. "Wait, wait, wait! My mom isn't far away! We could trade! Plea-" The raider's desperate babbling stopped, his youthful face covered in blood and brain that seeped onto the concrete beneath him. (Y/N) released a heavy, tired sigh, his eyes wandering over the limp body below him. Too young to be recklessly swinging around guns and running at people. Too young and too dead to know any better. 

"Get back in the wall and open the door," Joel told Ellie, taking the gun from her trembling hands and watching her weakly nod. The girl turned on her heel and slipped back into the other room, her soft grunts and the sound of something heavy being dragged echoing into the room. (Y/N) slipped the rifle's strap over his shoulder and approached Joel to get a closer look at the gun.

"Bill gave it to Frank for protection."

"She took it without permission," Joel muttered, sucking his teeth and slipping the gun into the waistband of his pants. (Y/N) grabbed his arm before he could move, his fingers raising to gently grab Joel's chin and tilt it so he could take a peek at his throat. He spotted the slowly forming bruising but found no other signs of any real damage. He released Joel's chin and lifted his gaze to look back at the older man staring at him.

"She also saved me from getting hurt, Joel. The day's gonna come when she'll be out on her own and it'll be better for her to be caught with a gun she knows how to use rather than with nothing." He told him softly, giving his arm a squeeze and stepping around him to walk toward the office door. He pushed it open and stepped inside, waiting for Joel to follow before shutting the door and watching them push the long desk back up against the door. 

Setting her backpack on the table and shuffling through the contents, she pulled out a flashlight and handed it to Joel. "What now?" She asked, zipping the backpack back up and slipping it back on. 

"We go up and hopefully spot a clear route out," Joel responded, walking toward the back door and turning on the flashlight as he peered into the darkness. Once checking it was safe, he looked at them over his shoulder and raised his brows. "Stay close."

The dark hallway led them out into an alleyway, the distant sound of a car nearing them reaching their ears. Joel and (Y/N) exchanged a look and (Y/N) carefully moved Ellie to keep her between them as they quietly stepped out into the street and ducked behind a car. They waited behind the car, listening to two vehicles pass them by and the sound of a man shouting for one of the deceased. Joel crossed the street, slowly opening the door to the building and nodding to them once he checked it. (Y/N) gave Ellie a light nudge and she sprang forward, hurrying over to Joel and dipping inside with (Y/N) hot on her heels. (Y/N) shut the door behind them, mindful of keeping the noise minimal before following Joel as he led them through the building. They could hear the sound of screeching tires when the vehicles sped off, likely returning to wherever their camp was. 

"If they have cars and guns and so many men, what are the chances they're from a community? Survivors that stayed when their QZ fell?" (Y/N) quietly spoke, squinting through the dim dust-filled air. Joel answered with a shrug, taking them into another building and motioning for them to settle down and rest. He pulled back a bit of the newspaper stuck to the windows and looked out, remaining by the window as the sound of multiple vehicles speeding down the roads got closer.

"Are we okay in here?" Ellie asked, fidgeting with her fingers and glancing between them, her eyes still wide with worry. (Y/N) frowned and reached out to wrap a loose arm around her shoulder, She smiled weakly and let her head drop onto his shoulder, her shoulders sagging when a heavy exhale escaped her. 

"For a little bit, maybe. Looks like they're checkin' out apartment buildings first. But they'll be comin' through these places soon enough." Joel stepped away from the window, giving Ellie the space to peer out of it herself. His features returned to that familiar fixed brow and scowl he always wore, his eyes lifting from the ground to look at (Y/N). "There's a building close by, maybe four blocks away. As soon as we don't hear a truck, we move. Thoughts?"

(Y/N) blinked owlishly at him, his brows lifting at Joel's curious gaze. "Uhm," He began, clearing his throat. "Yeah, yeah... the- uhm. Nightfall's probably our best bet, to be honest. They'll get tired eventually, and even if they still send out men, they'll have to use flashlights so we'll see if they're coming or not. Easier to move in the dark, anyways." 

"Yeah, you're right." Joel nodded, lowering himself down into a seat with a soft grunt. Ellie stepped away from the window and carefully plopped down on the dusty floorboards, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her arms over them. She sighed softly, her eyes flickering toward the window when a truck passed by before slowly wandering back to Joel. (Y/N) leaned back against the table beside Joel, closing his eyes and rolling his head back, feeling exhaustion take the place of adrenaline. 

"Are you okay?" Ellie asked softly.

"I'm all right." Joel paused, swallowing thickly. (Y/N) peeked down at him, watching him purse his lips and motion vaguely with his hand at her. "Are... are you okay?"

"Yeah." Ellie smiled. Joel nodded, swiping his tongue over his lips and dropping his eyes onto the floor. He stared at it, shoulders rigid with tension, and (Y/N) doubted his body didn't ache from the tumble he took when wrestling with the young man. (Y/N) breathed out through his nose and tilted his head down to look at him, his hand reaching out to tentatively run his fingers over the top of Joel's graying waves. Joel flinched, barely noticeable but enough for (Y/N) to retract his hand.

"What's on your mind?" (Y/N) murmured, feeling the skin along his neck and skin warm with embarrassment. 

"I..." Joel trailed off, his lips pressing together tightly as he slumped back in the creaking old chair. He cleared his throat, fingers grazing over the top of his hair and eyes resuming their staring contest with the floor. "I didn't hear that guy comin', neither of 'em. You could've gotten hurt, real hurt, and Ellie wouldn't have had to... you know?"

Ellie's arms tightened around her knees. "But, it's a good thing I did, right?" 

"You're just a kid. You shouldn't know what it means to... it's not like you killed him. But... shootin'... I know what it's like... first time you, uh, hurt... someone like that." Joel said shakily, the hint of guilt laced in his voice making (Y/N) frown. The older man's gaze jumped up to (Y/N)'s face briefly, and then swiftly turned toward Ellie. His jaw clenched and unclenched before he spoke again. "If you, uh... uh... I'm not really good at this."

"Yeah, you really aren't." (Y/N) couldn't help but snort at Ellie's words, bringing a hand to his mouth and whispering a soft apology when Joel huffed at him.

Joel cleared his throat again. "What I'm sayin' is... it was my fault. You shouldn't have had to.. and I'm sorry." 

Ellie stared at him, her mouth twisting up as tears flooded her eyes. Joel grimaced, watching her desperately wipe at her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her jacket before the tears could start rolling. (Y/N) pushed himself off the table and walked toward her, crouching down beside her and curling his fingers around her hand. Ellie sniffled, tightly squeezing his hand in return. "It- It wasn't my first time." She revealed quietly. (Y/N)'s brows softened and raised slightly, his lips parting with his sharp, quiet inhale. Jesus.

(Y/N) tilted his head toward Joel when a bullet clattered onto the ground and rolled near them, noticing the handgun he held as he stood up from the chair and kneeled by Ellie's other side. She watched him curiously and lifted her brows when Joel offered her the gun, carefully taking it and glancing up at him.

"Show me your grip," Joel instructed, resting his arm over his thigh. He met (Y/N)'s gaze, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips before it disappeared when he addressed Ellie again. "Finger off the trigger." 

Unable to resist the urge, (Y/N) smiled widely as he watched Joel instruct Ellie on how to properly hold her gun. A warm, sweet sensation spread across his chest when Joel shook the gun in Ellie's hand and she giggled, keeping her grip tight on it just as she'd been told. They were sweet when they got along, and entertaining when they didn't. Like a real... family. (Y/N) liked the sound of that.

[chichirid]

✦ furina id pack ✦

(names, pronouns, titles)

names: athens, atlantis, catherine, celine, charlotte, cheyenne, claribel, constantina, cora, diamond, drizzle, eden, eloise, evian, fleur, flotte, gabrielle, gazeuse, isla, jewel, juno, lucienne, marina, melena, mirielle, mirabelle, moni, neptune/neptunia, nereida, nila, nira, olivia, opal, pearl, precious, promise, ria, ruisseau, theresa, vaitiare, valeraine, yardena

pronouns: dew/dews, ri/river, cle/clear, tide/tides, sea/seas, mari/marine, act/actress, hy/hydro, song/songs, god/gods (or goddess), arc/archon, furi/furina, blue/blues, rain/rains, shine/shines, reflect/reflects, 🌊 /🌊 s, 💧/💧s, 🎭/🎭s

titles: (prn) who is covered in sparkling dew drops, (prn) in a downpour of secrets, (prn) with a swirling facade, (prn) who dances on a stage of water, (prn) who performs with a flowing persona, (prn) whose true self hides backstage, (prn) who pirouettes on the crashing waves, the princess performing an endless waltz, the actress in the sea’s play, the songstress sinking in solitude, the princess on a throne of bubbles, the princess whose chords echo across the ocean

[justsamssimsdump]

[whencyclopedia]

Morning Star (Dull Knife) - Eastman's Biography

Morning Star (Vooheheve, l. c. 1810-1883, better known as Dull Knife) was a Northern Cheyenne chief who led his people in resistance to the US government's policies of genocidal westward expansion. He participated in Red Cloud's War (1866-1868), various engagements between 1868-1876, and was defeated at the Battle on the Red Fork (the Dull Knife Fight) in 1876.

Afterwards, he and his people were forced from their homelands in the Dakota territories onto the reservation in modern-day Oklahoma. The conditions there were terrible and many died of disease and starvation. In 1878, Morning Star and Chief Little Wolf (also known as Little Coyote, l. c. 1820-1904) led their people out of the reservation in what has come to be known as the Northern Cheyenne Exodus, hoping to reach and reclaim their homelands in the region of modern-day Montana.

Little Wolf's band separated from the group, heading toward the Powder River territory, while Morning Star's band continued on, hoping to reach the Sioux chief Red Cloud (l. 1822-1909) and safety at the Red Cloud Agency (later the Pine Ridge Reservation). They were apprehended in October 1878 by the US Cavalry and brought to Fort Robinson where they were imprisoned and told they would have to return south to the reservation. Morning Star told the authorities:

All we ask is to be allowed to live, and live in peace…We bowed to the will of the Great Father and went south. There we found a Cheyenne cannot live. So we came home. Better it was, we thought, to die fighting than to perish of sickness…You may kill me here, but you cannot make me go back. We will not go. The only way to get us there is to come in here with clubs and knock us on the head and drag us out and take us down there dead. (Brown, 332)

Negotiations between Morning Star and authorities went nowhere, and, in early January 1879, it was decided food, water, and firewood rations would be withheld from the prisoners to force their compliance in returning south. The Cheyenne instead broke out, using weapons they had hidden in blankets and clothing, in an event later known as the Fort Robinson Breakout and Fort Robinson Massacre (9 January 1879). 60 Cheyenne were killed, 70 captured and returned to the fort, while Morning Star and a few others escaped and fled to the Red Cloud Agency where they were protected by Red Cloud.

Morning Star was then able to negotiate terms, which resulted in the establishment of the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation in Montana in 1884, although he would not live to see that, dying in 1883.

Eastman's Biography & Omissions

The Sioux physician, lecturer, and author Charles A. Eastman (also known as Ohiyesa, l. 1858-1939), includes Morning Star in his Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains (1916) by his Sioux name "Dull Knife" (which he is better known by, largely due to Eastman's work). Almost nothing is known of Morning Star's life prior to his participation in Red Cloud's War, and Eastman's biography reflects that.

The work includes anecdotes of the chief's younger years but focuses on his life after 1875 and, especially, the Northern Cheyenne Exodus and Fort Robinson Massacre. For unknown reasons, considering the usual accuracy of Eastman's biographies, he claims that Morning Star (Dull Knife) was killed at Fort Robinson in 1879 when it is known he lived until 1883, dying of natural causes. No explanation for this is available. The rest of the work is considered accurate, however, especially regarding Cheyenne support for the Great Sioux War (1876-1877) and the Northern Cheyenne Exodus.

Many details are omitted, however, including how Morning Star was among the chiefs present at the signing of the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, which ended Red Cloud's War and promised the Sioux their ancestral lands in the region of modern-day South Dakota, part of North Dakota, and Nebraska. This treaty was not honored by the US government, leading to further hostilities and, eventually, the Great Sioux War.

Morning Star was not present at the Battle of the Little Bighorn (Battle of the Greasy Grass, 25-26 June 1876) but was inspired by the victory of Sitting Bull (l. c. 1837-1890), Crazy Horse (l. c. 1840-1877), and Sioux war chief Gall (l. c. 1840-1894) to again take up arms against the US military. He and Little Wolf were defeated by troops under the command of Colonel Ranald S. Mackenzie (l. 1840-1889) and his Pawnee allies at the Battle on the Red Fork (the Dull Knife Fight) on 25 November 1876.

It was this defeat that led to the Northern Cheyenne being forcibly removed to the Southern Cheyenne Reservation in "Indian Territory" of modern-day Oklahoma in April 1877. The terrible conditions there then resulted in the Northern Cheyenne Exodus of 1878.

Continue reading...

[ancestorsalive]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐞 🌻🌻

Pretty Nose : A Fierce and Uncompromising Woman War Chief You Should Know

Pretty Nose (c. 1851 – after 1952) was an Arapaho woman, and according to her grandson, was a war chief who participated in the Battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876.In some sources, Pretty Nose is called Cheyenne, although she was identified as Arapaho on the basis of her red, black and white beaded cuffs. The two tribes were allies at the Battle of the Little Bighorn and are still officially grouped together as the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes.

On June 25, 1876, a battalion of the 7th Cavalry, led by George Armstrong Custer, was wiped out by an overwhelming force of Lakota, Dakota, Northern Cheyenne, and Arapaho.

There are many stories that come from this most famous battle of the Indian Wars. However, the most overlooked account is of the women warriors who fought alongside their male counterparts.

Minnie Hollow Wood, Moving Robe Woman, Pretty Nose (pictured), One-Who-Walks-With-The-Stars, and Buffalo Calf Road Woman were among the more notable female fighters.

Pretty Nose fought with the Cheyenne/Arapaho detachment.

One-Who-Walks-With-The-Stars (Lakota) killed two soldiers trying to flee the fight.

Minnie Hollow Wood earned a Lakota war-bonnet for her participation, a rare honor.

Lakota Moving Robe Woman fought to avenge the death of her brother.

And Cheyenne Buffalo Calf Road Woman holds the distinction of being the warrior who knocked Custer off his horse, hastening the demise of the over-confident Lt. Colonel.

Pretty Nose's grandson, Mark Soldier Wolf, became an Arapaho tribal elder who served in the US Marine Corps during the Korean War. She witnessed his return to the Wind River Indian Reservation in 1952, at the age of 101.