------------------------------------------------------------------------- BRAVE-WILLOW-BIRD-3 "Brave Willow Bird" (Part #3 of 9) Copyright 1997 by Vince Water ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Big Horn and I walk past many tree barked lodges and we greet the People that we pass. Mostly women on their morning tasks. The men walk about fully clothed in long breechclouts and shirts. We seem out of place from our half nakedness; I don't even have a covering for my butt. I point out a warrior's fully covered body with a giggle. He even wears pants to cover his legs! It reminds me of a woman's need to keep her body from being seen by others. I share my humorous view with Big Horn. My warrior steps between two lodges and faces me. There's a serious expression on his face that brings me some fear. "We are guests of this tribe," explains Big Horn. "They are a different People with what may seem to be strange rites and customs. Do not laugh at them. We must appear strange in their eyes. Especially our Mahyee-na spirit of loving men yet they accept our hearts. Show them the same respect." I nod in understanding to my monedo's words. Big Horn turns from his serious expression to a grin when he pats over my bared rear end. Our two tribes may have different customs but Mahyee-na fucking is a mens' rite enjoyed by both! We arrive at the tribe's central lodge. It's enormous. The length of trees has been used to support its tree barked walls. Clay fills the spaces between the cut logs. A young brave stands guard over its entrance. Big Horn takes me in hand to challenge him. This brave has his People's facial features of a small nose and a sharp chin. I avoid his deeply sunken eyes. My eyes look instead at his full breechclout and finely painted war shirt. A long spear is menacingly held in his hand. Only Big Horn's nod is required to get us past the guard. I endure the man's grin when he eyes my backside. We slip past the heavy door flap. It's dark inside. There's an odor of burnt sage filling the air. I'm led to the central fire pit. A number of men rest over mats in this huge space. No words are spoken to us in greeting. Big Horn finds an empty mat by the fire and he gestures that we're to sit over it. My body warms by the fire. I look to Big Horn for guidance at what we're doing here. He remains silent with closed eyes. I glance around at the other men and notice that some are naked. They range in age from young braves to old seasoned warriors. I'm startled by Big Horn's eruption into song. He's making a sacred voice offering unto Wah-Conda, the Great Spirit. I feel his heart in the strong words that he sings. It lifts my heart. When Big Horn's song is done, the other men briefly slap their chests. Silence returns. I look to Big Horn for an explanation and am not surprised when I'm not given one. My warrior knows of these People's customs. To me, it's all a great mystery. I ponder an answer for myself. This place is used by the warriors and braves to rest and think in. It's dark and warm and the air is fragranced with pleasant smelling herbs. A sacred lodge that men can find sanctuary from the busy activities of their tribe. In times of trouble, its huge space could seat all of this tribe's men for a council. In my tribe, our chief's large tipi is used for council by our warriors. The great size of the Moss-bowl Tribe needs a much larger space. That's why this huge lodge was built. I think that my reasoning is close to the mark. My eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting. I take a good look around. Most of the men are seated alone by their small fire pits. They appear to be in deep thought. A few of them are smoking from long clay pipes. I enjoy breathing in the pleasant smelling tobacco. Along the far wall, some men are crafting objects from clay. Something roundish in shape. A stick is used to mark them with lines and holes. An old warrior gives low words of advice to the younger men. I have no idea to what purpose their clay fetishes are being made. The thick air in this place begins putting me to sleep. I reach around my warrior's waist and rest my weary head against his chest. His arm comes to my back. The slow beat of the man's heart fills my ear. I close my eyes in happiness. Sleep comes. I'm swimming in an angry river. A beam of light from Father Sun's hand strikes the ground and burns a little boy shape from clay. A breath of Wind lifts the hardened clay fetish out of Mother Earth's womb and gives him life. It becomes Song Bird with a silvery tear in his left hand. I'm taken from my light dreaming by voices. Big Horn is speaking softly with someone. I slowly open my eyes and peek at the young man. He appears to be my age. A brave from his lack of eagle feathers in his shortly cut hair. The brave nods his head to me. He sees that I've awakened so I pull myself out of Big Horn's embrace. There's a knowing gleam in the brave's dark eyes. It bothers me for some reason. "I'm called Sings-to-the-birds," the young man whispers. "Big Horn has already given me your name. I will make you a song since my task is to honor birds. You are a handsome one to be resting in a willow." The brave's high-pitched voice and light manner reminds me of a boy's enthusiasm. I think through his words and grin when coming to understand their full meaning. "Sings-to-the-birds has come to us for an initiation," explains Big Horn. "He thinks that his spirit is like ours." I peer at the young brave with new eyes. He is like us? His face is different looking than the other men of this tribe. More gently featured with his rounded nose and sparkling eyes. He could almost be taken for a pretty girl. "You are very good looking..." I find myself whispering out loud. My words startle me. Sings-to-the-birds blushes. I try reading Big Horn's face to my boldness. "He is a good looking man," says Big Horn in agreement. "I will enjoy testing his readiness to become Mahyee-na." Sings-to-the-birds nods his head and grins. "I'm envious of your young lover, Big Horn. Would you consider sharing him with me for an evening?" It's becomes my turn to blush. Big Horn only smiles in reply to the brave's request. Was it a serious one? Many conflicting emotions rise up in me to the possibilities. I'm curious to feel his body in love making yet I fear losing Big Horn. A Mahyee-na man is more of a threat to our love than the simple lust I had embraced from a warrior like Left-hand Bow. "I've scared Willow Bird," speaks the brave with much humor showing in his voice. "I'm not easily frightened!" My words were too loud. The other men in the lodge turn to us with their troubled looks. I feel shame coming to me from their frowns. Big Horn squeezes my arm. I don't have to face his eyes to know that I've done wrong. The comfort of silence returns to the lodge. Sings-to- the-birds sits closer to stare into my eyes. I take up his challenge. My heart beats faster in my chest. Our staring game is a serious one that I don't want to lose. I'm not going to appear as a boy in his eyes. Sings-to-the-birds may have a brave's name but I have accomplished many proud things that have made me a man. Being initiated Mahyee-na is one of them. Something this young brave has yet to face. It gives me strength. A hand comes to my shoulder. Big Horn places his other hand over Sings-to-the-birds' shoulder and he shakes us out of our fierce contest. "You have a strong will, boy named Willow Bird," the brave admits. "I would welcome a wrestling match to test your body's strength against mine." I nod my head to his challenge. Big Horn rises from our mat and takes me in hand towards the door. I look back at Sings-to-the-birds. His slim body is covered in a breechclout. No shirt or moccasins are worn. Could this man be from another tribe? We leave the mens' lodge in silence. The cold mountain air assaults our sweaty bodies. A hunger rumbles in my stomach. It reminds me of the progression of the morning. I look to the sky for Father Sun but the low clouds block His fiery head. I can't tell if He's reached the height of His sky yet. My belly tells me that it's time to eat. Big Horn remains silent. He takes me past the many lodges and we walk through a rocky field before stopping at the edge of the mountain. It's a wonderous sight below us! The rolling plains and forests that we had come from are so tiny. I'm a little fearful to be standing at the edge of this great height. Over my shoulder is this mountain's twin brother. Snow covers its sharp head in the clouds. I wonder if anyone has thought to climb the mountain's peak to touch the sky? Big Horn takes hold of my hand. There's a serious expression on his face. "My first lover had taken me to this very spot to look down," Big Horn explains. "It was a magnificent view. He held my hand and promised to love me for as long as this mountain stood over the valleys..." A strong emotion chokes Big Horn's words. I wait in silence until the man has recovered. His words are a mere whispering. "After his death, I made a trip back to the Moss-bowl Tribe and I stood here for a full day with my empty hand. My heart was broken. I wanted my feet to carry me from the pain..." I turn to Big Horn. His eyes look down into the valleys with great sadness on his face. I suspect what the man's words have tried to say! It's something of very bad consequence. A person who dies at his own hand becomes wingless to the afterlife! A bitter understanding comes into my heart for him. "Your hand is no longer empty," I whisper to my warrior. Big Horn squeezes my hand in reply. He turns away in shame. I see tears filling his eyes and my arms go to him for a hug. It becomes a long embrace. The clouds passing overhead form shapes for me to ponder over while I hold my warrior close. A ray of Father Sun breaks through the clouds. I welcome His warm hand upon my face and He returns to Big Horn the strength that was lost. We slowly make our way back to the lodges. I keep a hold of the man's hand. "You are often reminding me of myself," says Big Horn. "When I bonded with my first lover, my heart was strong for him and it grew jealous of any man who could come between us." I think though the man's words. An understanding comes to me. "You were disappointed by how I acted with Sings-to-the-birds..." "I can't fault your reaction, Willow Bird. In your place, new to love, I would also have felt threatened. A man's character is seen by how he faces tests posed by others." "What you're saying is that I'm still acting like a boy." "I do too, sometimes. You are mostly a man, Willow Bird so remember to always be on your guard against tests." Some boys running past us turn around and giggle. They point at my uncovered butt. I smile at one of them, a boy of thirteen who has an interesting bulge pushing his front flap. He stares at me in silence while his two younger friends make whispers about our hand holding. We're followed through camp. I peek back at the boys' grins and obscene hand gesturing. Big Horn ignores them. He leads me to a decorated lodge and shouts out a greeting upon the doorway. "Come in!" is the reply from the cracked voice of an old man. Big Horn pulls open the door flap and I enter after him. A fire centers the dwelling. Over the walls are several round objects of wood strung with stretched hide. Drums! An old man is lying over his mat. He gestures for us to sit with him. "Ah... welcome to my lodge, Big Horn. And who is this?" I find my voice and answer, "I'm called Willow Bird." It surprises me that there is someone in this tribe who hasn't heard about me. "I am called Deep-roots-that-whisper," he announces. "You are welcome to my lodge, warrior Big Horn and boy named Willow Bird. Come eat and speak with me." A bowl filled with seasoned meat is prepared for us by his unnamed young companion. The boy keeps his eyes low to the ground. He appears to be twelve summers of age. His roundish face and flat nose tells me that he's not been born to this tribe. "What is your name?" I ask the youth. The old man grunts with displeasure. I turn to Big Horn with a worried expression. Have I broken some taboo? "The boy doesn't understand your words," the old man explains. "He was traded to me a handful of moons ago by one of our mountain clans. Their warriors had raided his village and brought the youth here. I will raise him as my servant." I gulp nervously in my throat. The meat in my bowl was prepared by a stolen boy who must hate being kept prisoner by this tribe. It's his duty to try and escape. At the very least, he will do things to anger his captors. Big Horn and Deep-roots-that-whisper seem unconcerned. They finish the meat in their bowls. Mine is still half-filled from my lack of appetite. "I've come to ask a favor," says Big Horn. "I'm in need of a few things for a ritual that I'll be performing tomorrow night. I was unprepared by the request upon me so I'm needing your help to be fulfilling it." "Which things do you need?" asks Deep-roots-that-whisper. "Some dried sage, a pot of sun water for strength and... a single red cap." The old man's eyes widen at the mention of the last item. I suspect what the red cap will be used for. My initiation into the Mahyee-na had begun with eating a bowl of seasoned venison. The flavor was made bitter by the sliced mushroom that had been mixed in. I believe that consuming the red cap had taken away pain and worry from my body. A ritual drug. It made for an easy first joining of Big Horn's long dick into my tight butthole. "My People make use of it for Dreaming," explains the old man. "It's also taken for a release to death by old men or a broken body that's beyond my skill to heal. No evil purposes! What will your use be of it?" "A sexual initiation," answers Big Horn. "I will imbibe it along with the young brave who seeks to join my brotherhood." "The red cap is not a thing to be played with!" warns Deep-roots-that- whisper. "I must be convinced that your rite has need of such Power." Big Horn becomes silent. I turn to the old man and speak. "My initiation into the Mahyee-na was accomplished by eating the red cap. I knew its danger. When I accepted its power, a vision was given to me. It revealed my innermost fears needing to be faced and I passed through them with Big Horn's help." Deep-roots-that-whisper stares at me. He seems surprised by my outburst. Big Horn is also stunned. Yet I continue to speak. "If Big Horn says that his rite needs the mushroom, I ask that you give it to him. He's a good man without any evil in his heart. I know this from the long years that he has guided me on the path to my manhood... and from my love for him as my mate." The young boy interrupts me by his gesture to take away my half-filled bowl of meat. I shake my head to his request. The two bowls that he's taken from Big Horn and the old man clink together in the uneasy silence that fills the lodge. "I was given this rite by my first lover," says Big Horn. "It has passed to Willow Bird. I want to bring Sings-to-the-birds into our brotherhood so will you give me what I need?" The old man slowly nods. "I will... but with a condition. Your rite must include Willow Bird. He must not imbibe the mushroom so that he can act as guardian over the two of you!" Big Horn reveals puzzlement in his face but he quickly gives his word to the old man in agreement. I'm given a flash of insight from what Deep-roots-that-whisper has asked. A kind of waking dream. It speaks of danger and something sleeping in me that is soon to come out. "I thank you for your hospitality," says Big Horn. "The meat from our two deer is being smoked for us. I'll bring two handfuls of dried jerky to your lodge tomorrow." Deep-roots-that-whisper nods his head in approval. From what Big Horn has promised the old man, that leaves us about six handfuls of meat and the two deer hides for trading. I wonder if it will be enough to get us a few of their decorated pots? My hunger returns. I finish the meat in my bowl. When the boy takes it from me, I grip his small hand and offer the youth my smile of thanks. His dark eyes look into mine for a brief moment. Long enough for me to see that he's not in much distress for being made to stay in this lodge. Big Horn gets up to leave. I'm quick at his side and we give our farewells. The old man stares at me. I feel that more was wanting to be said by Deep-roots-that-whisper. Words for my ears alone. When we pass the lodges, Big Horn whispers his thanks to me for what I had said to turn away the shaman's doubts. I allow myself a grin. It's good that I'll be a part of his ritual for Sings-to-the-birds. I want to see how differently my warrior acts when sticking his dick into another man. I spend my day with Big Horn to see all the amazing mountain sights. There are many downward views to be had. Everything looks so tiny below us. My most astounding view is towards the falling of Father Sun. A great water called an ocean is there. We come back to Spirit Lake and Big Horn shows me that water falls out of it all the way down to the valley! I'm taken to my next wonder. A grassy slope is filled with strange animals that don't fear us. They're smaller than deer and snow colored. A boy of nine keeps them together with his long stick in hand. Much of the mountain is too steep for our exploration. The Moss-bowl People have settled on a plain at the mid-range of the mountain they call Moy. Their mountain's brother, Cloy is shorter yet more sharply inclined. I'm told that a break away tribe, the Snow Drinkers have settled there. We come upon a fast moving river and follow it down. The water is very cold over our feet. I mind myself to keep from slipping over the sharp stones. A lone hide lodge comes into sight. Big Horn explains that it's used for a sweat by the tribe's men. I remember that the chief has invited us to meet with him here tomorrow morning. The river goes into the strange shaggy trees of strong scent. We follow it until coming upon a stone path which we follow. It's not the same path between Spirit Lake and the lodges. I wonder where it will take us? A smell of death comes. Big Horn takes me in hand when we pass through this tribe's burial grounds. The trees have been cut back in this area. Platforms of tied branches keep the dead at rest. Common objects from their lives are tied to the wooden beds. They rattle and clink in the wind. It's a very eerie place... Why do I feel that I've been here before? We pass the dead in peace. I welcome the return of the green shaggy trees. We follow the stone path at a fast walk which quickly turns into a race. Big Horn sprints ahead. I try my best to reach him but I'm out of breath and am forced to stop. Tiny flashes dart at the edge of my sight. My head becomes light as a feather and it fills with the loud sounds of an angry storm. Danger comes to my muddy river tribe. Someone is screeching. A frightening, angry voice that shouts, 'why did you go?!' I find myself sitting on the stone path. The terrible storm from my waking dream has passed. When I try standing up, a warrior takes hold of my arm to lift me. He wears a full breechclout and a painted shirt. Moccasins are on his feet. I'm surprised by his lack of weapons. The metal knife at my side gives me a sense of protection. "Visitors to our tribe from the valleys are often finding themselves weak of limb when up here," the warrior explains. "It has something to do with the mountain air." I nod my head in gratitude for the warrior's assistance. My legs still feel very wobbly. The man holds me up with his arm around my waist. I smell the musky sweat of his body. Our closeness brings an excitement to my body. Big Horn has noticed my absence and he rushes back down the stone path to join us. His worried expression turns to one of amusement. "I've heard that you have returned," says the warrior. "Your last visit was brief, Big Horn. Without even a greeting to me." Big Horn slowly nods his head. "I was in mourning of my lover." (The warrior's grinning face turns plain. He stares at the cute boy next to Big Horn and wonders about him.) "I am Willow Bird." The warrior answers, "my name is Shakes-like-the-ground. I welcome you to our tribe. Are you... Mahyee-na like Big Horn?" The warrior's question is bold and very direct. I answer him by turning around to show off my uncovered butt. I'm pleased to feel the man's hand over it. He squeezes my cheeks with much lust being revealed. Shakes-like-the-ground nods his head to Big Horn. Some understanding comes between the two men. I know that look! The man reaches into his front breechclout to handle himself. His dark eyes stare at my rear end with lust. I look to Big Horn for guidance. His bright smile and head nod assures me that my body can be offered to this needing warrior. I turn my back on the man and slap over my butt cheeks. My hands reach out to a large tree. I spread my legs and stick my butt out invitingly. A scuffling sound comes from the warrior's breechclout dropping over my feet. I turn my head to see what Shakes-like-the-ground will do. His eyes are glued on my butt. I hear his skin pulling. The warrior is growing his cock to full length before sticking into me! I give my lover a sly grin. Big Horn removes his breechclout. He comes to stand at my side with his own butt being offered. A low chuckle is heard from behind us. Shakes-like- the-ground feels over both our rear ends while his dick quickly grows. "I can't decide which butt to stick into," says the warrior. "They're both nice. I suspect that the boy's would be tighter around my cock though Big Horn's hole is more experienced with giving me the best performance." "Why not stick into both of us and decide?" asks Big Horn. (He spits to his hand and wets his hole for use. Willow Bird prepares his butt the same way.) I giggle at Big Horn's challenge. The sides of our bodies whisper together in warmth. He holds onto the tree with his right hand. A skin rubbing sound comes from the front of my lover's body. My hand reaches down for it. Big Horn's dick is moist in my hand. He allows me to grow it to length. From behind us, I feel the warrior rubbing his hard cock against the cheeks of my ass. It makes me tremble. Will my butt be the first that this warrior sticks himself into? Big Horn gasps. Shakes-like-the-ground has put his dick into my lover's butt instead. I turn to watch it. The warrior holds onto Big Horn's sides and stabs him quick. It's exciting to see a strong man fucking into another man. Shakes-like-the-ground pulls out. He turns to me with utter lust on his face. I lower my eyes to his cock. It's not very thick but long against his belly. His trembling hands impale my butt onto it. It becomes my turn to gasp. My hole is quickly penetrated with a few deep stabs made into it. The man's feet shakes while he fucks me. Before I can get to enjoy the feel of his male weapon in my body, he pulls out and stabs into Big Horn again. "My cock is enjoying the tight feel of your butts!" the warrior boasts. "It's been a handful of days since my last coming out. I have enough to fill both of your holes with my seed." I can't keep my giggles inside me. Shakes-like-the-ground punishes me with a savage strike in my butt with his male spear. It ends my giggling. Big Horn takes hold of my right hand to comfort me. It helps me to endure the man's savage thrusts. Shakes-like-the-ground pulls out of my butt. I turn to get a view of his dick before he stabs into Big Horn. There's a brown stain over its length that has come from my hole. He puts it in my lover without cleaning himself. I watch Big Horn perform. He arches his back and gets the man's cock in deeper through his ass by backing onto its forward thrusts. Shakes-like-the- ground makes a lusty groan. It brings a smile to my face. My lover is more experienced with pleasuring a man's long cock in his butthole than I am. I grin when seeing Big Horn's curved dick bouncing against his belly. Its hardness proves that he enjoys taking the man's need into his butt. I would pull over it if my hand weren't being so tightly held. After Shakes- like-the-ground is satisfied, I'll embrace my lover with our sexual needs. An outcry! Shakes-like-the-ground pushes on Big Horn's body to get his spurting cock into me. I feel the man's throbbing spear pierce my hole to finish his manly wetting. I'm given a sly grin of approval from Big Horn. The warrior takes loud breaths. His sweaty body slows against my back and his hands loosen their hold of my sides. A pulling from my butt signals the end of its seeding. I turn to Big Horn with a proud smile of my own. "Who has brought you the most pleasure?" asks Big Horn when slapping over his fucked butt. I slap my butt and face the exhausted warrior to hear his answer. The man's eyes roll with dismay. "You were both good fits to my cock," says Shakes-like-the-ground between breaths. "I managed to sperm in both of your holes! A worthy accomplishment for this proud warrior. I bear the proof of it over my cock skin." We watch the man tie his breechclout around his nakedness. Our butt stain remains over his cock like proud war paint. I'm not surprised. Left-hand Bow was proud of my brown paint over his dick after he fucked me. I point this out to Big Horn in a whisper. He only shrugs his shoulders in silent reply. "You're welcome to spend a night in my lodge," offers Shakes-like-the- ground. "If I don't see you again before your departure, I wish you both a safe journey back to your tribe." Big Horn nods his head in thanks. Shakes-like-the-ground takes to the stone path and is soon out of sight. I turn to my lover with a grin. I'm glad to see that Big Horn is still erected. My dick is also long from the lusty feel of having my butt fucked. I open my arms to the man in want of a much needed relief to our hard loins. Big Horn turns his back on my instead. He bends over to open his butt to me. I peer inside. His brown hole is wet from the warrior's use of it. A streak of sperm runs across Big Horn's left cheek. "Can you see any sign of his mounting?" asks Big Horn. I wipe my hand across Big Horn's butt cheek and answer, "yes! Your hole is sticky and wet with that man's sperm. Here is some I've found outside it." Big Horn turns to me. He looks down into my fingers with a grin. A thick pool of white sperm lies there. I bring it to my mouth for a taste. "That must of happened when he pulled from my butt after giving me a few squirts," Big Horn explains. "He finished his seeding in your butt. Turn around and let me have a look." I do as my lover asks. My legs spread and I bend over for his examination. The man's hands part my cheeks like a delicate flower. I feel his finger pushing into my slimy hole. "Your butt is filled, Willow Bird. That man's boast of seeding us both was a true one." "We'll need to perform your first lover's rite of exocist," I remind him. "My butt is filled with seed from two men: Left-hand Bow and Shakes- like-the-ground. Your butt has also been seeded from Shakes-like-the-ground and from my loins." Big Horn nods his head. He leads me away from the stone path to a place in the woods. We touch butts in our backwards embrace and hold hands. I push out what I've been keeping in my hole and hear Big Horn doing the same while we rub butts. It rains to the ground. When we're done, I turn from Big Horn and wait for the final part to the ritual. There's a pause before he can get himself to piss. I feel its warmth splashing over my butt. My legs spread so that he can clean between my cheeks. It's a strange sensation. Big Horn finishes. I turn around and find his messy butt sticking towards me. My urine showers his lower body. I step closer to get my yellow stream deeper through his butt. My bladder soon empties. I glance down at the ground. A pool of white sperm and our butt stain soaks into the dirt. It's a strange thing to know that our bodies had been keeping all of that inside us. Big Horn turns to face me. Our bodies come together belly to belly in our need for sex. I welcome the man's arms around me when our embrace tightens. It mashes our hard dicks together. "Always when in your embrace, my heart feels like it is the first time!" whispers Big Horn. "I love you very much." I keep my eyes from falling away from the man's bold words. As a man, I face him with strength and understanding. Our eyes stare into one another's. Male love connects us. Our faces come together for a kiss. It's a sweet touching that turns passionate when our tongues wetly embrace. My spirit becomes mischievous. Like what Sun Beam had done, I grip the man's shoulders and jump over his body. My legs wrap around his butt. He holds me to him with strong hands over my backside. There's a sweet pain coming from my hole when Big Horn's hands pull on my cheeks. It makes me smile. Taking a man's sperm into my body gives me a deep sense of completion and it makes me anxious to be coming out myself. My lover's hole was also filled with a man's sperm. The same man! I hang onto Big Horn's shoulders and bury my face into his soft neck. My breaths rush through me as if I'm out of breath. I've noticed my weakness by being on this mountain. Is Moy taking power from the People up here to keep Himself strong? I try fighting against my weakness. A darkness fills my eyes to show me something from the dream world; four rising mountain peaks and a falling oak. I feel a great sadness for the tree. Why? Big Horn brings me back to him with his strong hands surging over my backside. The motion presses our cocks together. It's a fleshy joining of our hard male parts which brings me nice thrills. My kisses suck over the man's lime smelling skin. I bite his neck to mark him as my lover. There's a sensation of falling to the ground. I'm surprised to find myself in the dirt next to Big Horn. The frantic pace of our loving has ended before our dicks could come out. A sharp fear squeezes my heart. I gently roll Big Horn onto his back. His eyes are tightly shut. There's a paleness to his face that worries me. The man's breaths are shallow. "Are you alright, Big Horn?!" I grip the warrior's shoulders and shake him violently. No response. I lay my head against his chest and listen for his heartbeat. It's quick and loud. His breaths sound through his lungs and that is a cause for relief. Big Horn must have fainted. I sit at the man's side and hold him close until he's recovered. My worried thoughts return to a long ago day. He has fainted in my arms before. It happened after our first belly rub. Big Horn blamed it on his head hurt; an injury that he had taken in a fall from his horse. I look into Big Horn's face. There's pain on it. An anger fills me for not having taken my lover to consult with our shaman about it! I vow to do so upon returning home. Big Horn's eyes flutter. A moan escapes from his lips. I pull him up from the ground into a sitting position. My arms around him keep the man steady. "Can you hear me, Big Horn?" The warrior's eyes slowly come into focus. He puts on a feigned grin to trick me. I shake my head in dismay. "Your head is hurting you again," I warn him. "It's worrying me more and more! If you won't visit with our shaman, I will send him to your tipi. I do this out of concern and my desire to make you well again." Big Horn lowers his eyes from mine. He doesn't argue against what I've said but I know that he doesn't want to do it. His words of explanation return to me: 'A man keeps his weaknesses from other's eyes.' Big Horn slowly rises. We make our way back to the stone path to get our breechclouts. He ties mine around my waist in silence. I clothe his body with his long cloth. The man's eyes won't look at me. I don't like our not talking about it since this is a thing that needs to be discussed! "I will see our shaman," Big Horn whispers. All of my anger and plans for argument spill out of me like a broken water skin. I take in a deep breath. Big Horn holds my hand and faces me with a serious expression. "I don't ever want your hand to become empty..." An image returns to me from Big Horn's words: four mountain peaks and a falling oak tree. My lover brings me out of my troubling insight when his hand squeezes mine. I stare at his thumb over my fingers. My body shivers. Big Horn notices my distress. He brings me into his arms for a bear hug. I cling to him as if it were our last time together. Tears fill my eyes. Why am I so frightened? I'm reminded of what he has told me about his first lover. When that old warrior was killed it must have left Big Horn heart broken and wishing for death himself. Yet the man endured. He found love again with me. My tears stop flowing. I've changed back into a man from the frightened boy that I was. Big Horn's arms loosen from around me. I take in a deep breath to steady myself. The warrior nods his approval. We walk down the stone path in silence, hand in hand. The strange trees continue on both sides. I've gotten used to their strange smell. Big Horn seems weary. I keep my pace down to his so to not cause the man any shame. We pass a fallen tree by the path. I can't tear my eyes from it. Big Horn tugs on my hand to keep us walking forward while I sense a deep feeling of loss. A crow's sad caw-haw is heard overhead. The lodges eventually come into sight. Our approach is from another side of their large camp. I lead Big Horn to the mens' sacred lodge. The same brave that we had seen earlier is still guarding its doorway. He allows us to enter. I take Big Horn past the other men to the central fire pit. He's glad to lay over a mat to rest. I remain with him only until his sleepy eyes close. There's somewhere I need to go. My footsteps are light when I leave Big Horn to his rest. The guard seems surprised by my early departure from the lodge or from not having Big Horn at my side. I pay him no mind. I make my way to finding the lodge of Deep-roots-that-whisper. All the lodges are similar looking but I'm noticing the painted glyths above their doorways. This must be how the People of this tribe distinguish their lodge's occupants from one other. I find the decorated lodge that I'm looking for. My shout of greeting is given and the man's cracked voice bids me to enter. The young boy without a name is sitting in the old man's lap. There's a flushed look to his face. When I come to sit down with them by the fire, I notice the youth's nakedness. His pole is erected against his belly. My eyes glare at Deep-roots-that-whisper with much surprise. "I was getting me a taste of his youthfulness," the old man explains. "He is a young boy and me an old man. By performing the rite, I take his young medicine into my being so that these old bones of mine will remain on the earth for a little while longer." I nod at the shaman's words. It comforts me to know that there's a good bonding between the man and his boy. My eyes take in the youth's nakedness. His pole is thick but there's no hair to his groin. I like his shy smile. "Grawow toa Sah-omb ant," utters Deep-roots-that-whisper. "Krost eh ah?" I don't understand the old man's words but the boy's eyes light up. He comes to stand before me. I look to the shaman to explain what's going on. "In our rite, the boy gives me his youthfulness. He can be given an equal thing in return, Willow Bird. You are nearly a man. Let the boy suck out your strength so that his body will mature. My loins have dried up in my old age." The youth reaches down for the front flap to my breechclout. He eagerly pulls it away. My erection is seen and for him. Yet I remember the sacred bundle on my belt and the pa-he-wat-che that lies within it. It pains my heart to deny the boy. Deep-roots-that-whisper notices his guest's reluctance. "Give it to him, Willow Bird. Before having this boy, I had drawn strength from Big Horn when he came to visit with his warrior lover. This is a sacred rite that you're partaking at my request. It won't harm Big Horn's love." I think though the old man's words. It's difficult to decide when my lust for the boy is shouting at me. Before I can come to a decision, the youth drops his head into my lap. His small hands grip my hips. I feel a warm slipperiness coming around my hard dick. My path is taken. Deep-roots-that-whisper grins. I lower my eyes from his to watch the small body of the boy at his ritual task. His back is arched. I watch his pale butt wiggling in the air. A cute, sexy motion! The thrills in my cock quickly build up. I have to reach out to steady the youth. In his eagerness, he has nearly toppled off his feet. My hands gently hold the boy's back. I caress my way down to his cute rear end. My hand pats him there with much lust. My eyes close. I go deep into myself to enjoy this moment alone. Breaths hold. My butt flexes over the soft dirt to stab my dick through the boy's mouth. He seems very experienced to the task at hand. Is he often sucking on the old man's cock? From what the shaman has told me, he has nothing to give the boy for his efforts. Yet the old man must feel pleasure in the trying. I cry out unexpectedly. The boy's tongue has rubbed over my sensitive tip and that causes my loins to explode! I squirt a few times into his mouth. Nice thrills for me. My loud breaths fill the lodge. The boy mouths over my dick to get every last drop of my seed out of me. It's a very tickly sensation! He stands before me with a big grin on his face. I stare at his pole standing against his belly. I'm wanting a drink of his youthful loins. Deep-roots-that-whisper claps his hands. "I thank you for your gift unto Sah-omb. His body will grow quick to maturity because of it. Take your turn, Willow Bird. This boy has much sweetness from his loins to offer you." I reach for the boy's hips. He arches his back to stick his long pole in my face. The rosy tip to it has popped out from the thick skin. No oozing. I go down on it like a man who's greatly thirsted. My hands reach around for the boy's soft rear end. I take his stabs through my mouth with much joy. My nose sniffs the boy's groin. It's a clean youthful scent mixed with sweat. My mouth is able to take the youth's small balls inside with his hard pole. I'm greatly hungered to eat up all his male sex! Breaths sing though the boy's nose. He wraps his small arms around the back of my head to hang on. My long hair is pinched in his grip. I ignore the pain for the gift of his sweet seed that's soon to be won by me. I clutch the boy's small wiggly cheeks. They feel warm and moist in my hungry hands. I'm enjoying their cute humping motion! The boy's power lies in the front of him from his quick stabs through my mouth. I brush my tongue over his sticky hard knob. The boy makes a sharp outcry. His forward stabs are quick and I'm given a filled mouth from his squirts. Before I swallow them, my tongue swirls the youth's watery seed. It's a sweet taste like what Song Bird has given me. A boy's clear release. I joyfully swallow it. My mouth pulls out what remains from the boy's shrinking pole. He giggles as if being tickled. I give his small butt a pat for his accomplishment. He faces me with bright eyes and a flushed face. "It makes me happy to see your gifts taken and received," announces Deep-roots-that-whisper. "I ask that you keep this rite of mine from being learned by others. Even from your lover, Willow Bird. Will you make it so?" I sit erect and give the shaman my solemn oath. "Our rite with this boy will be kept between us, Deep-roots-that-whisper. No one will learn of what we've done. I swear this by the Great Spirit. He knows that my pledge will be kept." "I accept your words," answers the shaman as expected of him. (Sah-omb comes to sit in the old man's lap. Some words are whispered between them.) "The boy wants me to tell you that he likes you, Willow Bird. When you first met, your kindness touched his heart. He asked me then to be allowed to drink from your loins some time. You have done so." "Tell him that I also like him, shaman. I thank you for allowing me to become a part of your sacred ritual." The old man speaks strange sounding words to Sah-omb. A smiles comes to the boy's face. It reminds me of Song Bird's smile of love for me. A bitter pain fills my heart. I cast that sad memory away with much difficulty. "I'm glad that you've come for a visit," says the shaman. "I have some words to speak with you that needs to be given to your ears alone! No. That worried look on your face is unnecessary." I knew that Deep-roots-that-whisper had wanted to tell me something. What could it be? "I would ask a favor of you," says the shaman. He searches through a sewn elk-skin sack at his feet for something while he speaks. "It's a bundle that you're to give your tribe's shaman. No one must know of it! Let me hear that you'll make it so." Another oath to be giving this man! I sit up straight and speak my pledge words. The old man is satisfied. He pulls out a small bundle and places it reverently into my hands. A hairy white hide is used in its wrapping. My thoughts fly to those unfearing animals on the mountain being tended by that young boy. What did Big Horn call them... 'hooved baa-haas?' The seams of the soft white hide is tightly sewn with thong. It's heavy in my hand for its small size. I open my sacred bundle and place it inside. A close fit. I remove Pai-alucia's urine stones. They'll need to be wrapped so they won't stain the shaman's white hide bundle in my pouch. "Do you have a small hide scrap?" I ask the old man. The two black stones are placed into his hand in explanation. He grins after smelling them. "Does Big Horn still have his first lover's stallion for companionship?" asks Deep-roots-that-whisper. I carefully nod my head. Does he suspect our love rite with Pai-alucia?! The old man looks through his sack. A small piece of elk skin is found which he offers me. I use my Wah-ha knife to cut it down to size and to make a thong to tie it. The urine stones are placed within the soft skin. Some of Pai-alucia's coarse hairs that I've taken from his mane sprout out from the small pouch when it's tied closed. I place it deep into my sacred bundle. "Remember that no one must know of what you carry back to your shaman," warns Deep-roots-that-whisper. "And you know better than to unwrap the white bundle, eh Willow Bird?" I nod my head at the man's words. I'm struck by a concern and voice it. "Why didn't you ask Big Horn to carry your bundle to our shaman?" "I chose you for a reason!" answers Deep-roots-that-whisper. "When given to your shaman, he will know what to do with my bundle and to whom it must be used." Another insight is given me by the old man's words. My hands tremble. Not from fear but at the unleashing of Power. I nod my understanding. Sah-omb becomes restless. He leaps out of the old man's lap to dance around the fire. It's a silent ritual. One that allows me to eye every part of the boy's pale body with affection. He is a happy spirit! "Do you have Dreams?" asks Deep-roots-that-whisper. I'm taken by surprise by the old man's question. He isn't asking about the regular things that people see when they're asleep. How does he know about what I've dreamed? "Yes... Things that have come to pass," I carefully answer. "I knew as much, Willow Bird. I'm not the shaman of your tribe so you must seek him out for guidance. I See power in you, boy. It's getting stronger as you approach manhood." Sah-omb tires of his dancing. He drops into my lap. The feel of his wiggly butt over my thigh is thrilling. I happily hold his warmth against my chest and my kisses blossom over his face. The boy shyly turns away. "There is much love in you too," says the old man. "I saw your earlier concern for my boy. A small thing but it revealed to me your good heart. Be careful not to take on too many burdens for your love to carry!" My thoughts fly back to Song Bird. Why does the shaman's words make me think of that boy? Sah-omb takes me from my thoughts by his singing. It's a sweet melody but the strange words are without meaning. At its ending, I sing to him a song about Flower Boy. The youth watches me with bright eyes. "Flower Boy, open your pretty arms to Father Sun's Light. Bring out your sweet fragrance to make the world beau-ti-ful." Sah-omb repeats the simple melody from my song. He hums in the place of my words. I give him a tight hug when he finishes. My mouth brushes against his black hair in a kiss. I'm reminded of something to ask the shaman of this tribe. I turn to Deep-roots-that-whisper and ask him about the old paintings on the canyon walls at foot of Moy Mountain. "I've not thought about them for a very long time!" says the old man. "When I was a boy of about your age, I remember seeing the paintings of our ancestors and asking about them. This is what I was told: "A very long time ago, the scattered tribes in our world were once one great tribe. They had been kept on an icy cold mountain with little to eat. A great leader came forth and he took the one People through a hole he had found down to the warm valleys. They cast away their winter clothes and went about naked under Father Sun's loving hand. "Big shaggy animals were found in a valley. In spite of their great size, the beasts were gentle and wise. Yet the hungry People ate them all up. That's why there are no more of them. In anger, the Great Spirit had the artisans of these People paint their sins on that canyon wall that you saw." "They aren't easily seen!" I tell the shaman. "Big Horn was surprised to see the canyon paintings. His previous two visits had him going past them without notice." Deep-roots-that-whisper nods his head. "Only at the height of Father Sun in His sky can the eyes of people see them. It's to remind us that only in the truth of Light can a People find the wisdom that's needed to carry out their short lives. Everyone and everything must be considered equally!" The old man's words go above my head. I get the idea of what he's trying to tell me so I simply nod in agreement. Sah-omb fingers the dark hair to my groin. He's curious about the maturity of my loins when compared to his. I rub over the boy's smooth groin. His pole erects in only a few heart beats at my touch! My fingers wrap around it for a gentle pulling. His little hand comes to my dick for a similar pleasuring. I welcome the youth's coaxing of my male response. "Do you have a boy friend back at your tribe?" the old man asks. I nod my head. "His name is Song Bird. A boy of twelve that I've had as my close friend for many years. I love him." Tears threaten to fall from my eyes. Sah-omb is startled by my weak display. His hand lets go of my dick. The youth returns to Deep-roots-that-whisper's lap while staring at me. "Your heart is in much pain!" says the shaman. "Tell me what has happened to your friend." I'm surprised that my words are easily flown to this old man. I barely know him yet great trust and understanding has come between us as if we've known each other for a long time. My troubled heart pours out to him. "We found love together this summer," I begin. "It had grown from our long boyhood friendship. Big Horn has shown me the ways of the Mahyee-na which I took back to Song Bird to share in. The love acts took on their proper meaning when in that young boy's arms. "Big Horn learned of what I had done. He told Song Bird's father, our tribal chief of it! I've been warned to stay away from his son with my lustful hands. Yet it's more than a body's pleasure between us. Our hearts are one." "Are you now bonded to Big Horn?" asks the shaman. "Yes. That warrior has won my love. Big Horn will act as my monedo when I'm named a brave. He's helped with my sexual identity and I've become Mahyee-na. I've come to understand many things because of him. Song Bird must be allowed his own path towards manhood without my influence." (Deep-roots-that-whisper nods his head in understanding. The words from Willow Bird's mouth sound like another's. They don't rest in his heart very well, the old man notices.) "My head understands things," I explain, "while my heart ignores reason to only feel. It's often a difficult battle within myself, shaman. I hope that my initiation into manhood will make things clearer to me." The old man laughs. "Some things will, Willow Bird, but that battle inside you is a common one shared by us all. Listen to your heart's desires but temper it with wisdom from your head." I release a weary sigh. I had suspected as much. My rite into manhood only begins greater responsibilities and challenges for me to face. The moment has come for me to leave. I thank the old man for his hospitality and I assure him that I'll make my secret delivery of his white bundle to my tribe's shaman. I rise up from the fire pit and make my way for the door. Sah-omb waves his hand at me in goodbye. I give the boy a bright smile and wave my hand back at him. My spirit feels as light as a feather when I step outside. My heart is at peace. I walk back to the central lodge. A new man guards its entrance. This warrior wears a feather in his hair. I'm dismayed when he blocks my way in. "I'm Willow Bird from the Kalinlepi Tribe," I explain. "I've been in your sacred lodge twice before. My lover, Big Horn is resting inside. I want to rejoin him." The warrior looks me over. He doesn't seem impressed by my lack of shirt and moccasins; no covering for my butt. I must appear as a boy in his eyes. "It's true that I've not yet been named a brave," I admit. "Yet inside me are a man's thoughts and I have things only a man would carry!" I touch my sacred bundle on my belt. My Wah-ha knife is taken and pointed at the guard. The warrior's spear is pointed at my belly in hostile response. His face fills with great anger. I lift my weight onto my toes in preparation of his attack. My knife is sharp but it has only a short reach. It's no match against a spear. I prepare myself to run away. Something warns me to stand my ground instead. My metal blade is of little threat to him. I think that the warrior's hostile response comes from a proving of my will than from his fear of my attack. "Go away!" shouts the warrior. "This lodge is only for proven men." I keep my place while the warrior continues to show anger. I give him a smile of defiance. His spear point is placed against my belly and a blood line is drawn up my body. I bear its pain. I control my panic as a man would. The warrior's spear point comes to my heart. He gives me a mean look that gravely tests my will to not be running away. I act in my defense instead. My hand pushes on the spear's wooden shaft. A smile comes to the man's face. "You may pass, Brave Willow Bird." I tie my knife onto my thong belt and enter the sacred lodge. My heart is filled with much pride. At this moment, I'm no longer in that place between a boyhood and manly identity... I am a brave. The men glance at my passage through them. I walk towards the central fire as one of them. Big Horn is still sleeping over his mat. I kneel at his side and keep silent. A difficult thing since my heart is bursting to tell him things! A worry comes to me. I look over my lover for signs of life. The man is laying on his right side as I'd left him. His face is plain and without emotion. In deep sleep like a fallen oak. I'm relieved to see his chest moving with gentle breaths. I look over my lover while he sleeps. His head rests over his curled right arm. The length of his hair has spilled away from his back to the dirt. Fire light dances over his body. He still wears the long breechclout around his waist. I'm surprised that he didn't removed it like the other men in this lodge for comfort. My gaze lowers to his legs. They are well muscled and dark from the sun. His feet are calloused. The men of our tribe don't wear moccasins for every day life like these People. Hardship has made our bodies strong. My eyes run up his body. An excitement fills my body to be looking at my lover as I am. I remember all the times that we've embraced in love. It's almost a pain to not be holding him close. Only a small space separates us yet I'm feeling lonesome for the warmth of his body next to mine. All the exciting events from this summer are played through in my head. My male body has joined to another in a variety of love acts. I've rubbed my dick against another dick, stuck into buttholes and I've had my hole penetrated and cummed into. So many exciting ways to pleasure male bodies! This man has led me through most of them. He's my monedo to my thinking head and my Mahyee-na lover for my feeling heart. Both things combined. I'm a long time watching Big Horn. The warm air in this lodge becomes thick and warm. It's like throwing on a blanket at night against the cold. My head becomes heavy. I move from my sitting position to lay down against my lover. Our chests touch. I keep my arms from their desire to reach around the man. It might awaken him. I'm content to share his warmth and gaze into his peaceful face. The fire crackles and hisses. A contentment fills my heart. My eyes finally close in sleep. Something awakens me. I find that my arms are wrapped around Big Horn's body. He holds me close with one of his arms resting over my lower body. His hand is on my butt. Our faces are close together. A pang of love fills my heart. During our sleep, we've been sharing one breath. I take the man's air deeply into my lungs and give it back to him. We've become one being, I realize with wonder. There's no light coming in from the lodge's smoke holes. Night must have fallen. My belly rumbles with hunger and I'm thirsty. I also have to piss. Big Horn continues to sleep. I'm torn between the needs of my body and what my heart wants. An easy decision. I remain with my lover and try getting myself back to sleep. A terrible chopping sound comes from the woods. I spy a flint axe point driving itself into a tree's belly. No one is holding it. The rhythmic chops eventually split the oak in two. It falls to the earth with a crash. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- {End of file: BRAVE-WILLOW-BIRD-3 Story continues in: BRAVE-WILLOW-BIRD-4}