Timpoochee was awakened at the sun-spirit’s first light by the rude screeching of martins as they circled back and forth scooping unsuspecting insects from the chilled morning air.
As if usually the case with growing Tsalagi boys Timpoochee’s first thought was of food - and where to find some.
He had eaten enough blackberries the night before to fill him for a while. He wanted something more filling.
Rabbit would certainly taste good on this brisk morning, he thought, and stood up to survey his surroundings for a likely thicket.
He launched off into the woods from his encampment, up the hill, away from the river and before long was crawling under dense brush and trees.
Just as he entered a small clearing he spotted a small but plump creature seemingly sitting frozen across the clearing.
The rabbit’s eyes seem fixed on something away from Timpoochee. It had not even been moved by the noise created when the would-be hunter crawled through the brush.
Despite his hunger, Timpoochee didn't want to offend the creature or hinder its focus for fear of revenge by its rabbit brothers.
“That is just how the old women have seized Rising Fawn,” he said to himself quietly. “They hold her motionless, waiting for their poison to strike at her feelings.”
But even more than the talk of the Tcki, Timpoochee was disturbed most by realizing he does not know what the old women seem to know. He doesn’t know what his parents - if they are his parents - seem to know but do not say.