The Dangers of Yellow Wildflowers

The Dreamcatcher

The forest was rather quiet as I rode the well worn trail, brushing the green tree limb in front of me out of my way. There was the occasional flutter of a birds wing here and there or the loud swaying of the trees speaking as the wind blew through them. I allowed the thump of my horses hooves as they hit the ground to draw me into a calming lull. Despite the forest appearing relaxed and unmoving, I kept reminding myself to stay sharp, to keep looking around even if everything I was looking at appeared nothing but green. Anything could be found in the forest. I could feel the rise and fall of my horses stomach against my legs as he inhaled and exhaled. Holding on to nothing but his mane and a small piece of leather within his mouth, I shifted my weight on his bare back signaling him to stop moving. I paused. Taking in nothing but the sounds of the forest. The roar of the wind through the trees was loud, but not loud enough to block out my thoughts.

"Where are you?" I wondered. "I know you are out there. Probably even watching me right now."

I dismounted the tall black horse I had been riding by sliding off his left side. The bow and small sheath of arrows I had strapped on my back rubbed uncomfortably against my clothes and I had to stop to take my bow off from around my shoulder. Holding the soft wood in my right hand, I walked my horse to a shallow stream and allowed him to drink while I went to look around. As I walked, I loaded one of my arrows, and began checking the mud for any sings of tracks. It wasn't long before I found a fresh set buried in the soft mud.

"I am close to finding you now". I thought.

Checking the direction of the wind here and there, trying to conceal my location I walked as soundlessly as I could manage in the dead leaves underfoot. Surely I was close now. Crouching under a bush after the faint noise of nearby rustling leave caught my attention, I pulled back my bow string ready to fire at any moment. And just as I had predicted, In the clearing in front of me stood a yearling. The fuzz of his antlers looked almost velvet in the glistening sun and I almost dreaded shooting the beautiful creature. but this was this was the first deer I had spotted this close to camp this season. Bow string resting on my cheek, deer in sight, I let the arrow fly. And as I stood, something strange then began to happen. It was as though all at once the forest went still. The birds stoped their chatter, the wind ceased to blow and further and the trees stoped their dance. Something felt off. Was it possible that nature grieved the loss of such a beautiful creature? Surely not? But as I neared the place the deer had dropped, I felt sweat began to bed the palms of my hands. The hair on my neck stood out. But why? As I dug through the tall grass hunting the animal, I paused when I seen the feather to my arrow. I became frozen in my tracks when I realized why exactly I had been so uneasy. Laying in the grass with my arrow through its heart laid not the deer but a man.

I bolted awake. Sweat dampning my head and hands. It took me but a moment to recall where I was feeling trapped beneath the assortment of animal furs I used as my bed. I found myself looking through the crack of fabric (which served as the door to my tepee) into the blackness of night. Searching for the dead man, still imagining his lifeless eyes, and having to convince myself it was all but a dream. But oh how real it had felt! Coaxing myself back to sleep would be a whole new trick in itself, so rather I decided a good breath of fresh air might help ease my mind. I pulled on my tall, soft brown moccasins and laced them snugly, pulling back the small piece of leather and stepping into the early morning air. It was cooler than I had remembered it being. The sun was not quite ready to make an appearance (as it was only the early morning hours) most likely enjoying the haunting balled of the near by screech owl adding only more eeriness to the night. Looking around at what I could see of the dark prairie, the moon light turned the waist high grass almost silver giving the allusion it was ghostly on fire. I began to shiver although I wasn't really cold. Considering my haunting dream, There was just something oddly eerie about the night that otherwise never would have bothered me. The only reason I could see the hazy outline of my black stallion sleeping was because the white handprint I had placed on either side of his shoulders and they glowed in the darkness. Looking up at the stars offered some relief to my uneasiness as they often did. Something about the curiosity of the unknown. The idea that my mother was one of them, looking down upon me now was comforting in a way. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath clearing my thoughts and coming to my senses. It was only a dream after all. Taking one last look at the empty prairie, I headed back inside my small tent, but hanging up a dream catcher for good measure this time.

The weak early morning rays of sunlight had just began to make their way into my tepee as I wiped the fogginess of sleep from my face. Stretched, and made my way out the door. I had fallen asleep in my moccasins last night, so there was no need to relace them. Bow in hand, arrows strung around my shoulder, my horse greeted me a friendly hello as I gave him an apple for breakfast.
The prairie looked like a completely different place in the broad daylight. The wood line to the far right of my camp seeming smaller from the distance and the cliff that overlooked the small town below was off to my left. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I mounted my black horse, taking the trail which lead to the cliff edge and pulling to a stop as I looked out at the town down below.

The town looked much smaller from up here. I looked much more vulnerable. As the early morning sun began to light up the land, I could made out the blurry shapes of horse drawn wagons coming and going through the town center and I could faintly make out the rhythmic piano song coming from the saloon.
The town never sleeps. It has no reason to. It was the same town I looked out on every morning. The same town I try to avoid at all cost. The very town I was raised in, and the very town I hated. Subconsciously I made a small clicking sound which alerted my stallion to move away form the edge and it was then we continued on our trail.