When I was at Victoire I yearned to go back to my people. Now I am with my people and I miss Victoire. Will my heart never be at peace?
Nancy had wanted him so desperately before they parted; Redbird would not even let him see her.
White Bear saw that once again women had started to gather nearby, among them the round-faced Water Flows Fast. And now White Bear saw another familiar face he had not seen earlier, Redbird's mother, Wind Bends Grass. She glowered at him as she always had, her fists on her broad hips.
O Earthmaker! Why would Redbird not come out and speak to him?
A dozen cawing crows flew over the camp. Laughing at him.
He heard a movement behind him, a rustling of the buffalo-hide curtain. He dared not look around.
A voice at his back said, "Go away, White Bear!"
A cool, sweet flow poured from his heart like a mountain spring at the sound of Redbird's voice. He unfolded his legs, stiff from hours of sitting, and pushed himself to his feet. He turned.
Weakness washed over him; he thought he might fall to the ground. Redbird stood before him, her cheeks flushed, her slanting eyes sparkling with anger. Her face was thinner than he remembered, her lips fuller. She still wore a fringe of her hair over her forehead.
Standing silent and open-mouthed, he felt he must look utterly foolish.