The Hunt:

The wind from the south carries more than the scent of hickory smoke and fallen leaves this season. It whispers of unease, of a disruption that sends ripples even to our own towns nestled among the rolling woodlands and along the river bluffs.

Our traders and keen-eyed scouts, returning from long routes beyond the Tombigbee, bring unsettling tales. They speak not in panicked haste, but with the measured gravity of men who have seen a new and formidable power. These are the "Shining Ones," as some call them – men encased in metal that gleams, riding upon large, swift creatures never before seen in these lands, wielding weapons that speak with thunder and hurl deadly pellets.

Word has it they passed through the lands of the Coosa, leaving a trail of demands and often desolation. Now, they are said to be in the territory of Tuskaloosa himself. The great Mingo, known for his towering height and proud bearing, now travels in their company. Our observers believe he is no willing host, but a carefully watched captive, his silence a heavy cloak over a warrior's simmering spirit. The destination, they say, is one of his principal towns, perhaps the fortified Mabila.

In our council houses, the Minkos (chiefs) of our towns and our most respected war leaders sit long. They listen intently to every account, weighing the strength and intent of these newcomers. Stories of other nations to the south and east – their encounters, their forced tribute, their fierce but often costly battles – are recounted and considered. The Choctaw, our neighbors, are said to be speaking now of strangers with metal faces.

There is no fear in these councils, but a deep seriousness. The Chickasaw are not a people easily cowed. Our young men practice with the bow, their focus sharpened. Our villages, including our mother town Chicaza, are places of strength, built on traditions of resilience and an unyielding defense of our people and our hunting grounds. We have faced formidable foes before.

The news of Tuskaloosa's predicament, of the relentless advance of these Shining Ones towards Mabila, serves as a stark warning. While their path does not yet turn directly towards our lands, the earth is small when such a force is moving. Every Chickasaw understands that vigilance is our shield. We observe, we listen, and we prepare our hearts and our weapons. The seasons are turning, and with them, perhaps, the fortunes of many nations. Should these strangers cast their gaze upon our homes, they will find the Chickasaw ready.

To Be Continued…