Chief Flying Eagle scratched his war paint on with the flat side of a piece of charcoal. A sliver of dust landed in his eye and tears smudged his artistry. He remained stoic, though, as an example to the lone brave that accompanied him. The sun began its journey down behind the distant mountains and the air grew cold as they waited in silence. Chief Flying Eagle pointed at the boy, then gestured.
“What?” the boy asked.
“Go? It’s my turn to be the chief.”
“Johnnie, Danny”, their mother yelled, “Come on in! It’s time for dinner.”
~~~~~ 0 ~~~~~
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is Addicted To Purple. She is also addicted to hosting a 100 word challenge each week in which a photo prompt is offered and it is your mission- should you choose to accept it- to fashion a short story of either fact or fiction. Please visit her site to enjoy other short stories by numerous talented writers.