I am Canowicakte Akule, The Son of Yiska Akule & Meda Akule, I am of my mother’s Tribe Weirwrath.
The free folks former glory lies beneath a distant hill and our future glory fills my dreams, but I see only cowardice and deception before my eyes.
Old Chief Buchongahelas may accomplish in death what he failed to accomplish in life. Buchongahelas faced with the threat of Blood Tear scattered the tribe to the winds. A greater threat… No. The greatest threat looms before us and with his final hours he flung the tribe to the wind yet again.
Most of Buchongahelas’s chosen are either weak or shy away from the Mantle, an honorable warrior is denied a chance to lead us, and a outsider is deemed worthy because of a trinket and words spoken by a dying fool. I am angered by Buchongahelas’s deceptions, but a chief decides how he picks his successor and it is for those chosen to seize the title of chieftain. Traditions must be abided by, the mantle of chieftain can’t be diminished because of the foolish notions of an addled man.This is the right of the chief, to deny it to a fool is to deny it to the wise. That is why my angry must be set to the side. The title chieftain must remain strong for what lies ahead.I have no fear of death at the hands of my enemies, but to see the weirwraith destroyed by its own hand is a burden that is impossible to bear. I fear that the next few hours will not just decide if the weirwraith returns to its glory, but decide the tribes existence.
I feel disappointment, about these things and a and others that I wish not speak of. for these reasons my words go unspoken.