September 16th, 1880. Morning. A short distance from the main camp.

Curled amongst the cushion of old needles under a low juniper, Rabbit dreamed of mist.

---

She didn't know how long she'd been climbing, mute and alone on the mountain flank. Somehow, she knew Tatanka had gone on ahead, but the mist smothered everything to a damp, directionless blank; only Rabbit's knowledge and awareness of the mountain led her upward without striking a patch of loose scree or falling into a defile. She knew she was high enough that sliding might pitch her over a sudden edge, leave her falling far, far down through textured cloud until the fatal impact broke her open. She thought of how the blood would splash black wetness over the rock, how the mist would close over the gap of her falling like a tutor's hand wiping a word from calligraphy sand. She went on, praying with her feet.

Tiny changes in the feel and scent of the soil underfoot and the half-glimpsed shapes of trees told Rabbit she was nearing Bear Butte's summit: there was a path somewhere, but she must have come up around the back, the steeper side. The gradient forced her to scramble at times on hands and knees, grimacing at the rock that scraped her but determined. It was then she saw the first skull.

Huge, wind-scoured and rain-weathered, the buffalo skull transfixed Rabbit's attention. As she stared, the higher winds pushed the mists aside to show another lying further off, and another. The slopes were littered with dozens, scattered like white boulders. Rabbit hurried on, afraid for Tatanka.

Scaling a cliff, she looked down and saw a dead man lying in a hollow far below, smashed like a swatted fly under the skull he must have grasped instead of solid ground. It might have been the shaman she had fought, but the mists below her swallowed up the sight and she forced herself upward. One last heave to get over the edge; Rabbit gasped as the spur of rock she clung to shifted into snake-smooth movement, drawing her up, then laughed to see it was in truth the Yuan's tail she had caught.

The dragon pulled her above the rolling mist, his scales glittering in the sunlight above like river water.

"Where is Tatanka?" Rabbit asked, hugging the river's snout when he brought her close.

"In the ground," the Yuan told her, but Rabbit understood that the plains god was just resting there like a seed curled in the soil, an acorn whose true growth, bursting forth, would be...vast. Her imagination failed to grasp it.

The Yuan shifted on the holy rock like a lizard, tumbling Rabbit from his tail into the supple spines of his mane.

"Let us clear the mist," he suggested, and switched toward the sun, flowing for a moment down sheer rock before pushing off like a swimmer from a stone. Rabbit lay low to the dragon's neck in the rush of air, staring back with awe as the mountainside dropped away beyond the meandering movement of the Yuan's tail. The dragon sped up and arced into the blue, coming down to skim a wide circle through the sunlit mist, his shadow racing alongside on the snowy surface. Exhilaration soared through Rabbit, making her want to laugh or shout against the roar of the wind as the mist parted in their wake.

They made a great circle around the mountain and repeated it, spiraling inward, the Yuan sometimes rolling in the air for the sheer joy of shooting through the ice-clear atmosphere. Rabbit held on and watched the forest and grass sea appear below like a map, the colors bright as glass. Deadwood was a half-burnt smear off to the east, glimpsed and gone. On the slopes themselves Rabbit saw the buffalo skulls start to crumble, each becoming impossible quantities of rice, rice that poured down the mountain in white streams, shifting boulders, massing into a great tide that swelled downhill. Looking for the corpse, Rabbit saw another figure running in alarm from the rush and called to the Yuan: "I need to go down!"

The Yuan rolled, belly to the sky, and dropped her. Even as he tilted, Rabbit let go, unafraid. She tumbled, stretched her fingers like pinions to the wind, in freefall, grinning. A mighty aquiline shape circled below, his halo burning blue-white across his massive feathers; Rabbit cried out to him.

"Wanbli Luja!"

The radiant King of Eagles turned, snatching her from the air and righting himself with momentum. The impact became as gentle as falling into grass within the cage of his great talons. She smiled her thanks to him and pointed to the man being overwhelmed by rice. Wanbli Luja wheeled, swooped and let Rabbit jump a little way upslope; she slid past on the tide then came to rest against a stone. Grasping a nearby juniper Rabbit reached out for the man being tumbled over rocks. "Horn Chips! Here!"

He grasped, went under. Rabbit leant further out, dangerously out of balance when his weight caught and pulled against her grip, but the rock was deep-rooted and she managed to pull him back towards safety. He flailed for another handhold, but somehow Rabbit knew the stone he sought was really a crow and grunted a warning, catching his other hand and hauling him into the lee of her rock. He stared at her and Rabbit felt suddenly self-conscious to be dressed all in white like a mourner, smudged as she was from the climb. "I'm sorry," she told him, not knowing what for but that it was true. "I'm sorry. I...need to check on the children."

She pushed off into the rice and slid gracefully between tree trunks, glimpsing the Yuan's coils through the branches like a word written on the sky. At last she rolled to a stop where some of the rice did, heaping on the plateau with the sacred fire. Horn Chips starting his awkward slide up above made her smile, but by then the children had left off piling the rice and run over to her, wordless with excitement. Some had wolf ears, wings, coyote tails or other traces of spirit blood, but that was normal, here. A small body hit Rabbit in the side and she barely flinched, embracing her: a niece. Rabbit looked for her own children, anxious a moment before War and Plenty pushed forward to show her handfuls of rice, proving their two siblings weren't far behind. Looking about, Rabbit realised none of them - not Alalaya, standing with her trousers rolled to the knee in the rice-flow, laughing, nor Horn Chips, flailing his way down to level ground - knew how to cook rice properly.

"Buckets!" she ordered. "Grass mats," she told them, herding children and steering a young Chinese girl with a phoenix tail away from the fire as the group approached it. "You lot, get some rice here. Now we fetch the water."

Her children grabbed bark buckets and turned into brightly-coloured wolves, dancing around her and singing what had become a nonsense rhyme.

"Ba bai biao bing ben bei po!" sang grey-eyed Death, her voice sweet as spring water.

"-pào bing bin pai bei bian pao!" sang War, red fur bristling over his shoulders.

"-pào bing pa ba biao bing pen!" laughed Medicine, pushing his bucket along with his nose.

"-biao bing pa peng pào bing pào!" finished Plenty, her yellow brindling gold-edged in the sun.

Rabbit shooed them streamward, looking up as a shadow fell over her.

"Wovoka wants to see you," said Thunder Walker, indicating the main camp. Rabbit nodded thanks and knelt to ruffle her wolf babies, kissing their red/black/gold/white foreheads and promising to teach them how to cook rice as she stood to return to duty. Despite the sun on her skin, the wind was cold.

---

Cold...

Rabbit grunted at the predawn light and tucked her nose into her blanket, not really wanting to be awake.

((OOC This dream sequence was written by Tan Xiohan's player and is used with permission))
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:12, Sun 02 Oct 2016.

[[colours! ...credit? You'll probably want to do a summary of Rabbit bidding goodbye to the others after this and move on to introducing John to Wovoka, so's Moses and Art don't end up in 2 threads at once.]]

Rabbit lay curled up in a shivery ball of blanket for another handful of minutes, awareness the land slowly seeping in.

Tatanka...

Rabbit gripped the dream, and the thought, and opened her eyes when the pang of grief had passed. That echo, the vision-within-vision of a tree so vast it could span worlds unfolded once more as she uncurled. There was truth there, and comfort.

She wriggled out from under the bush, stood, listened, and only when certain she was unobserved dragged out the satchel and headed down to wash. Bear Butte's autumn streams were so cold it hurt, but once bathed and alert Rabbit went through the underbrush grinning, touching twigs and leaves and trees with her heart singing joy to be alive and with the mountain. To have the stark scars of blood-blackened medicine on her neck and shoulder and belly and leg and not be condemned to die for being marked by what she had survived. Not to be a ghost.

The mountain led her down deer-tracks to a still and sacred place under tall black pines. Rabbit settled there, joy and ache caught in her scarce-bound chest in equal measure, and prayed to the sunrise. Praying warmth back into the world, and safety along the long stretches of tree shadows; praying wisdom as pure and easy as the birdsong swelling around her forest chants; praying herself half out of the world to hear the spirits as the wind moved and water ran onward.

Screaming Rabbit made long prayers for Tatanka, as she had promised. Stumbling on a half-numbed leg and famished, but feeling truly clean again, Rabbit got up and trotted upslope to the waking camp to meet with John and the others there.


[[see previous To Do list. That's some of her daily shamanising dealt with, though.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:53, Sat 01 Oct 2016.

In reply to Tan Xiaohan (msg # 2):

((OOC: Didn't Moses have something he wanted to say to Rabbit before going?))

[[Not that he mentioned to me...we determined he might get a super-nervous hug if not too many people were watching, though.]]

The camp is all astir. Men prepare for the day, singing chants to the spirits as they perform various chores around the camp. Little Bear's people and the Cheyenne seem to be engaged in a friendly wrestling match with some of the Laokta boys, at least until Yawns Loudly when they upset hir cookfire.

Rabbit bids goodbye to Moses, Art, Walks The Night Alone, and Kills Iron Horse. Little Crow just glowers at them all.

((OOC: If you guys want to do a summary of this, go ahead. I'll get on to what happens next after that.))

Moses finds Screaming Rabbit sitting on the ground, wrapped in a blanket.
The huge black man walks bare chested and bare foot, seemingly unbothered by the cold. He looks quite pleased with himself.

When he notices Screaming Rabbit, he nods at her, his eyes getting a look of concern.
"Moses had a dream about you, Screaming Rabbit. No, not a dream. When Moses guided Thunder Walker away from the darkness, you were there with us. The Lord has shown Moses that you are among his most favored."

He sits down, a few paces from her.
"Moses will leave for Deadwood. He and others will go and look for The Woman Who Remembers The Future. She might be a great ally. Moses knows you will be save here."
He nods at the others present. "And that you will keep them save."

Art had spent some time meditating as the sun rose, detaching himself from this world as well as he could. With closed eyes he listened for what the world had to say. The birds waking early from their slumber all had something to say to the rising sun. The night wind quieted itself to greet the beauty of daybreak. The men and women all had their own sounds, and by listening to them individually and as a group, Art had an instinctual understanding of their moods.

When it was time for work to be done, Art ceased his meditations and made his way to help in whatever way he could, walking as ever with his staff in hand. There he found Rabbit and Moses, and a grin split his face. Art opened his mouth to convey what they were about to do, but heard that Moses was doing so. The speckled one sat cross-legged, near to both Moses and Rabbit. For the moment, he listened to their conversation rather than interrupting, though he nodded to confirm what Moses had to say about their plans. Art's ears swiveled toward Moses as the prophet spoke - not because it was necessary, but rather to demonstrate that Art was respectfully listening to what the other man had to say.

Rabbit looks up and further up at Moses. "Is...do you think he will come back?" the youth asks, discernably sincere. "I hope I was of use in the vision. I miss him greatly."

"Ah, I hope it will be so," Rabbit responds to the certainty that one small shamen could hold off the Raven's clan, then swallows and straightens. "All I can do, and give, I will do so."

Rabbit fights an arm out of the blanket to offer Moses a brotherly forearm-clasp of truth spoken, aware of Finally Listening settling nearby. "Go safely, and return well."

"We all miss those who have passed." Wovoka says as he approaches the group. "It is good to remember those who have gone on before. But when you dance the Ghost Dance, he will return to you, even if it is only briefly. Take heart." He smiles gently. He looks at Art and Moses. "We will be waiting for you. If we are not here when you return, you may find us on the mountain, dancing the dance."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Mon 03 Oct 2016.

Art bowed his head at Wovoka as the man approached. [Language unknown: "E comth uratet m undoresti acal, undatiess witsonbut. Er usatma p ioubutsti ta p i..."] He let the thought hang in the air.

[Language unknown: "Om onsencour ieno mo nce ardughntiand. E lintedticera hatartome miad mimaoues setine'manentlat earredaveave ol alpl elnc ineithall nanot ettien witthoast."]

Art turned his face toward Rabbit and nodded at the well-wishes. [Language unknown: "Lletna oun el o rea. Ourhisnti evedi ore kormenortive ulev p paweee nahisi lilar."]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:05, Wed 08 Feb 2017.

Moses grasped the Rabbit's arm, the young Chinese limb looking tiny next to the prophet's.
"If the Lord will it, Moses shall return to you."

Rabbit has nothing to add to Moses' comment, though the grip on his big arm and the youth's expression tell him this one would hug him if face permitted.

When the small shamen leans back - nodding deeply to Wovoka in acknowledgement - the paler giant gets a faintly wary look. "I will try not to climb the mountain and fall over on flat ground," Rabbit responds, bobbing and giving the faintest trace of a grin. "Uh..."

"In Deadwood..." please don't fuck Cassie please don't fuck Mei burn it burn the place out no more ghosts no more- Rabbit mentally scrabbles against a tidal swell of thought, small shoulders tensing.

Let go or be dragged.

"-you don' eat the pork, yeah? Pigs there not fed tuber a long time, only excrements and dead bodies. Not good for brain." Rabbit taps a temple to indicate craziness, wondering what the white men would make of Finally's ears.

Art tilted his head slightly and smiled at Rabbit's analogy. He then listened to Tan's commentary on what to eat. He nodded acknowledgement and thanks. "I should no eat pork in Deadwood - I understand and will no do so. Thank you for the warning. Is there anything else you think it would be good for us to know about Deadwood or our way there?" Art's face appeared like a big question mark, interested in any knowledge or suggestions Screaming Rabbit may have to share.