Catori glanced over at Luis. She whispered to Chayton who walked over and laid beside the mexican.
Catori smiled but it turned into a frown as a small horn was blown. She turned to see Miko riding his prized horse up to the village tribe.
Catori's father stood and approached. He greeted the young native american man with a smile. With an arm around his shoulder, he led Miko to the fire.
Catori turned her face. Silently she swore. She hadn't even had a chance to think about it. She glanced at Buddy, before Miko asked that they take a walk.
Catori nodded and stood. He led her towards a small stream. He urned to Catori. "I suppose you know why I am here."
Catori nodded.
Miko then asked. "What is your answer?"
Catori looked at him. Her brown eyes seemed to spark. "Do you really want me as a wife, or are you only doing this for the peace to remain between are tribes?"
Miko sighed. "I am not sure. First, It was because I liked you as a wife, but father kept talking of how good this was for the tribe, and now I'm not entirely sure."
Greg sat quietly, watching. Catori was obviously not happy, and everyone else didn't seem to notice. He gazed into the fire, thinking about that time he had once been in love. She had been the only thing in life that he wanted to live for. But she had been ripped away; massacred by a drunk man who tried to rape her, and she fought back. Greg had been away on buisness. Now, life was only a play ground where he would cheat death until eventually it won, and he could see his love again. He pulled his small liquor flask out and sipped it.
During and after all the 'engaging' interaction, Buddy became more and more withdrawn and removed from the group... he was the true outsider here, didn't speak the language or follow any of the tribal customs or rituals, and now he was on the verge of losing his only connection to this 'native' way of life, if he could believe all the translations from Greg, and bits of chit-chat he caught on the breeze while he sulked.
He found himself constantly tinkering with the pair of wedding bands on the chain in his pocket, thinking of all that those rings did and would symbolize, then thinking more about what all-- or little--- he had to offer a woman like Catori. She was so young, and vibrant, radiant even, so full of life, while Buddy himself was so empty, washed up, down-and-out...
-sigh- Buddy frowned, and wondered what the Comanche word for 'cervesa' or 'tequila' was... "Fire water?" he mumbled aloud, contemplating a bender... maybe the spirits would help him find some answers....
The morning after the night before, after Catori and her 'new love' have their special secret private talks with each other and with the tribal chieftans from both groups, but before anyone can talk to Buddy about the results, trouble rears its ugly head again...
... first, someone of the tribe finds Twenty One, Buddy new and possibly not quite faithful mount, has broken free or been set free from his post. Buddy's rifle is missing from its saddlebag holster, and there is a rather large swipe of blood along Twenty One's saddle, blanket and haunches.
"This is not the horse's blood..." one of the tribe informs Catori and the others in Buddy's group.
Buddy Reno has gone missing!!!
~cue dramatic music~
Luis thinks for a moment. He looks around hastily, and his eyes rest on (name?) the wolf. He finds what looks like Buddy's hat next to his saddle and lets the dog sniff it. After a few words of encouragement, the dog takes off, his nose to the ground, apparently on Buddy's trail. Luis and Nat follow on their horses.
((all these "C" names can be confusing at times... 😕 ))
Chayton has been running tirelessly for hours, sliding silently across the landscape like a gray ghost. Finally, he has stopped at the crest of a high ridge, lifting his nose to the air and sniffing. Everyone else smells it, too.. Smoke, from a fire made of buffalo chips. After this ridge, the prairie levels out, and the landscape is quite flat. Off on the horizon, maybe as far as five or six miles away, the source of the smell is visible as several thin, gray columns of smoke rising up from the ground. The other thing that has changed is the height of the grass. Here, it is quite tall. In places, it is almost over the head of a grown man on a horse.
Luis trots down to the base of the rise. From here, it is apparent that a fairly good-size group of horses has passed through--though it has obviously been a few hours, the long shoots are bent and broken in a clear path. Chayton catches up with Luis, who waits for the rest of the group to decide what to do next.