Our rivers were watered year round. Our grass was sweet. Unlike the paintings of the white artists our grass grew tall and dried on the stem. It took ... hundred acres to feed one cow ... but there were millions of acres and just a few cows ... at first. Timber was sparse on the plains but our Sacred hills had timber. The most grievous lie was that the plains were uninhabited by humans and had been for millions of years.The Crow bred far faster than the People and they gobbled our lands; Growing. Yeah, I share a birthday with Donald. What’s different, beside me being a young woman now, is that instead of being thirty-five this year, I am fourteen years old.Additionally, instead of clearly being white, my skin tone is light brown, maybe olive(?), and my hair is black. My eyes are the one thing I recognize without having to imagine myself as a white male. They are still hazel green with gold flecks. I still have the scar from a busted lip from falling down the stairs when I was 9, and the. More

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