Oh, Child (CountryHumans)

Abandoned

     A small boy sat in the woods. His blonde hair clashed with his colorful bangs, which fell down over his face and covered his fathers flag. He wore a light blue jacket with red stripes at the shoulders. His shirt was white, and tucked neatly into his brown pants, which was in turn tucked into his stockings. His polished shoes were uncomfortable, but it was better than being barefoot. At least, in his opinion it was. Thirteen red stripes ran across his face, matching the ones that circled his wrists and neck. His snowy eyes searched the tree line. Father had told him to stay put, but something told him that if he listened, he'd be waiting forever.
     It was irrational, of course. Britain alway came back for him. This wouldn't be any different.
     But fear didn't care for rationality.
The boy had started to cry again. He never liked being alone, it scared him. Made him feel like no one cared. He hugged his knees closer to himself, trying to keep in warmth.
His head snapped up at the sound of a branch snapping. In front of him, just outside of the clearing, a young girl watched him. She winced, probably embarrassed at being found out because of a stick. The boy shot up, his Fathers words ringing in his ears.
Never show weakness; it gives your enemy fuel.
     He didn't know who this girl was, but he sure as hell wasn't going to cry in front of her.
     She, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content with approaching him. In the fading light, he could see her copper skin, with half her face the color of dried blood. Her olive green eyes held a curious spark in them as she approached the boy. He could see large eagle wings on her back, and he wondered if they were real. His question was answered when the wings shifted to get comfortable. The girls dark brown hair was in two loose braids that rested on her chest. A crown of yellow flowers sat on her head.
     She stood in front of him with wandering eyes that scanned over his thin form. Her beige clothes seemed warm in comparison to his thin jacket. He backed away a bit, still wary of this stranger.
she said something he couldn't understand. The boy curved a brow, wondering if this was her language. He waved, thinking maybe she was saying hello. Her smile widened.
"(Have you eaten?)" she said. It sounded like a question, but he couldn't guess what she was saying. The language was nothing like the European languages he was used to. The sounds flowed from one word to the next, while some words broke in the middle. In a way, it was comforting. It reminded him of a river, skipping over and between stones.
He was shaken from his thoughts by a hand grabbing his forearm. The girl seemed to have gotten impatient waiting for his response, and was now dragging him towards the tree line.
     The boy started to panic.
     "No!" He screamed, pulling back. The girl stumbled as he ripped his arm from her. She gave him a puzzled look that quickly dissolved when she saw the fear on his face. She backed away a few feet, her brows furrowed in concern. "I -I can't leave..." the boy explained. She quirked her head to the side, and the boy realized that she didn't understand what he was saying.
Idiot, of course she doesn't, he mentally scolded. She wasn't European.

     The girl was worried. She didn't understand anything he had said to her, but the tone wasn't good. But he was skinny. She worried about how long he had been here without food. Days? Hours? Weeks? And not to mention winter was coming.
     "Thirteen Colonies."
     The girl looked up at the boy, not understanding what he had said. He jabbed at his chest and repeated himself. "Thirteen Colonies," he said. The girl's eyes widened. Was that his name? It was strange; unlike any name she'd heard before. She pointed at herself, mimicking his actions.
     "(Native)."

     Thirteen Colonies nodded, relived that she understood. He was worried that she might not.
Native took his arm again, though he noticed that it was significantly gentler. He looked at her with confusion, and watched her pretend to break bread and eat it. She then pointed at his stomach.
His eyes widened when he realized what she had meant. Food. She was wondering if he wanted food. At least, he assumed she was. Before a response could be given, his stomach groaned in annoyance. Native's brow furrowed and she gripped his bicep tighter. She spoke again, one word this time. He didn't understand, but that didn't really matter, since she was now dragging him towards the tree line again. Her grip was stinger this time, Thirteen didn't think he could escape if he tried.
He stumbled and tripped, unfamiliar with these woods. Native was nimble, jumping over roots and sidestepping thorn bushes. She slowed down slightly, helping Thirteen with his footing. For some strange reason, he trusted her to guide him. Besides, it's not like he had a choice.
After a minute or so (and a few new scrapes for Thirteen) they arrived in a clearing. Several house looking structures were littered around, with people chatting around fires. Some smaller structures that seemed to be covered by animal skin also littered the clearing. The smell of meat roasting floats through the air.
Thirteen had never seen anything like it, and he was conflicted. Part of him, the part that idolized his father, saw it as uncivilized. The other, the part that loved running through the rivers at home, saw it as beauty. All these countries, and the feeling of community. It took his breath away.

Native watched his expression as he looked around. It was humoring, to see him so interested in what she saw as normal. She slowly took his arm again, leading him to the council building. Children weren't allowed there, but this seemed like an exception.
     The building was large and circular, with a hole in the roof to let out the smoke. The door was a deer hide, which Native pushed away without a care for the rules. Every head in the building turned to the two children. Native felt Thirteen tense up, and straightened her posture. Maybe her confidence could help him.
     A woman stood up, her brown hair laced with feathers. Her tan outfit had little color, except for a faded red shawl. Her eyes were a darker green than Native's, and her stare held authority. It was clear that she was the leader.
     "(Native, you know you can't be here)," she spoke. Her voice was light, resembling her daughter's. Native, who was cheerfully pulling Thirteen a few seconds ago, paused. She shuffled in place.
"(I know Mother, but...)" she trailed off, gesturing to the boy besides her. The room turned towards him. The woman's eyes soften when they land on him. Native, seeing the look on her mother's face, decided to speak up again. "(I found him alone in the woods. I don't think he's eaten.)"
That statement sent a murmur through the room. A child that hasn't eaten? How long was he even there for?
"(He is quite skinny)," one man commented. Others around him nodded and mumbled their agreement.
The woman looked around before turning back to the boy. Maybe they could postpone this meeting; it wasn't really important anyways. "(What's his name)?" She asked her daughter.
"Thirteen Colonies," Native said, slowly pronouncing the foreign name. Thirteen's head shot up at his name, finally letting people see his face. The people seemed even more concerned as they watched him flinch, as if expecting to be hit.
The woman approached slowly, trying not to startle the boy. She knelt down when she was in front of him, frowning when he clutched onto Native's arm even more. He seemed to trust her, though, which was good. "(Can he speak our language)?" She asked Native, who shook her head.
"(I've been gesturing to him. He seems to understand)," she explained. Her mother nodded before turning back to Thirteen.
"(Hello) Thirteen Colonies, (I am Seven Nations)," she said, pointing to herself. He slowly moved from behind Native and pointed at Seven's chest. "(Seven Nations)," he repeated. The name foreign on his tongue. Seven nodded.
     "(Have you eaten)?" She asked, pretending to scoop up food with a fork and eat it. He shook his head, only confirming the groups fear.
     "(What are we going to do with him)?" A voice pipped up.
     "(Who will he stay with)?"
     "(He isn't one of us)."
     "(He needs to eat)!"
     "(Enough)!" Seven said in a loud voice. She wasn't yelling, but her tone made it clear that it was a command. Everyone shushed, looking at her with expecting eyes. "(He is a child, and we should open our homes to him. He will stay with me and Native, learning our tongue and way of life. For now, he needs food)."
     With that, Seven turned to the children and motioned for them to follow. She left the building with the two in tow, Native's upbeat attitude returning as they left. The three walked together, Seven trying to start a conversation with the boy. It wasn't very effective, since he had no idea what she was saying. They walked to one of the animal skinned, triangular structures. Seven pulled back a flap, revealing the small room inside. It seemed cozy, with two buffalo skin blankets folded neatly in the corner.
     Seven ushered the two inside before going in herself. Native sat down Thirteen before grabbing him a blanket and wrapping it around him. He hadn't even realized he was shaking.
     Seven grabbed a pot with some sort food inside. Thirteen had no idea what it was. She grabbed two stones and hit them against each other, causing sparks to fly. A fireplace sat in the middle of the room, with a fresh log to be lit. When it caught fire, Seven blew on it lightly to fan the flames. When the fire was hot enough, Seven took off the lid of the pot and set the pot on the fire. Native stood up and grabbed three wooden plates and forks made of bones. She handed one of each to everyone in the 'thípi'. Thirteen had heard it called that, he hoped it was the right name.
     After a few minutes, Seven took the pot off the fire and motioned for the kids to hand over their plates. She scooped up the delicious looking dinner of beans, rice, meat and corn before handing the plates back. Thirteen eyed it skeptically, poking it with his fork before looking over at Native. She noticed this and smiled at him before turning back to her food. This seemed to be good enough for Thirteen, who started to copy her actions.
     Seven Nations noticed this, and smiled. She didn't know how long this boy had been alone, so having someone he trusts would make it easier to help him.

One thing was for certain; this kid was going to be staying for a while.

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So, for those who don't know, "tipi" comes from the Lakota word "thípi", so that's the word I used. It is often translated to mean "they dwell". I believe I got that right, at least. If I'm wrong please inform me. Have a great day!