Sitting crossed legged before a warm fire, chill winter night howling outside, shadows bouncing off the sides of my cave, my man softly blowing upon his pipe. Smells of smoldering sage filled our lungs and peace was mellow and soft like the white fur around my shoulders.
I placed black stone and blue stone beads upon a leather cord, little bits of round wood colored like the last dropped leaves of Fall, and finally, savoring precious black horn pipe beads my man made from the horn of the last buffalo he slew for our winter meat, I placed only two of these. Buffalo was his Spirit Animal and each part of each kill was precious to me.
From a trade made long ago with Black Hair Long White Nose - a white man who lived deep in our mountains and forests - I added a metal plate to hang the last of my blue stone beads from.
It was a good necklace. Strong, peaceful and beautiful.
My man smiled, and then said to me ... "Make your earrings then come lay with me. The night is long and my feet are cold."
And so I did ... and his feet grew warm.
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