When my son was six years old, we went on a hunt. When we returned,
our men were devastated, our homes were burned to the ground and our children
were missing. The whole tribe was inconsolable and I was angry. All the warrior
women convened in our war room and cried. I vowed to track and kill whoever
stole my son. I left. They refused to follow for fear that something worse
would happen to our village. I advised the Queen that I had to postpone training,
if she'd allow me, and that I would continue when I returned. She sent
me off with her blessings.
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