Oobick

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Winter is Coming

Tatoosh Island is not a hospitable place this time of year, more so now, the Coast Guard and Navy are gone, the empty shells that were their base now nothing more than scars for Gaia to heal and reclaim, now that people do not live here anymore. The Wendigo’s spirits of winter are coming, I can hear their icy song clearly. I look north over the water and feel the cold air. Once we were Kwih-dich-chuh-ahtx and the Moats were grand, then the white man came , our ancestors hid the Moats in the Potlatch, now even that must be hidden. Our tribe has given to much the Kwih-dich-chuh-ahtx is gone only the Makah remains. The Spirits scream with rage that the elders are content, hiding our Gauru culture on this island. The elders say that no one may come to the island without Makah permission and that now is not the time to fight, the reservation is safe.

Safe?

We hide in shadows in the corner of what was once our great nation 300,000 of the acres of Gaia’s beauty they destroyed, bringing their wyrm taint and packing our people onto a “reservation”. Each year they chip away at what we are. To many of the Elders of the Makah tribe forget the Gauru, and ignore the spirits. Fearful of what they hear.

Winter is coming, The spirits have called, we have assembled, taken counsel with the ancestors; we will fight as needed, we will hide what must be hidden, but we will cower no more. What they have taken, the spirits want back.

Oobick

Winter Games Nish