Twelve years have passed since the Omàmiwinini (oh-mam-ih-win-in-e: Algonquin) and Mi’kmaq allies clashed with the great Haudenosaunee (ho-de-no-sho-nee: Iroquois Confederacy) force of the Kanien’kehá:ka (ga-ni-en’ge-ha:ga: Mohawk) warrior known as Ò:nenhste Erhar (o-noss-tay air-har: Corn Dog) and his friend, Winpe.
I, Anokì (uh-noo-key: Hunt), and my sister, Pangì Mahingan (pung-gee mah-in-gan: Little Wolf), had grown into young adults. After I came through the Wysoccan Journey to enter into Omàmiwinini manhood, the decision was made to keep my childhood name because of the relevance of its meaning at the time of my birth. The Elders have always told me that I was a chosen one because of the birthmarks on my buttock and my hairline. I had yet to experience anything special in this life, but there were more years to live.
After that brush with death those twelve summers ago, the Omàmiwinini and their ally survivors had taken a different outlook on their lives. We became even more of a nomadic group than previously, wintering with the Mi’kmaq, the Ouendat (Huron), our own people, and a new ally to the north beyond the Nipissing, the powerful Anishinaabe. With these new friends we also gained a new and fierce enemy. The Anishinaabe called them the Nadowessioux. They called themselves the Lakȟóta.
With the powers of Mitigomij, Glooscap, Elue’wiet Ga’qaquj (el-away-we-it ga-ah-gooch: Crazy Crow), and the warriors allied with us, we became a group of people without any real ties to one community. The main family core of the group has always stayed together. Depending on where we travelled or what we took on, there were always other warriors coming and going to and from our band to aid us in whatever our undertaking was at that time.
The other nations started calling us the Piminàshkawà (Pursuers or Chasers) because we were always chasing something or someone and helping our friends and allies in times of war, strife, and hunger.
It is the only life that my sister and I have really known. We have been raised in the way of the warrior, to respect our family, and to be wary of our enemies. Each new day is an adventure, and Pangì Mahingan and I have been taught by the best, our Uncle Mitigomij (mih-tih-go-mihzh: Red Oak) and our guardians, Kìnà Odenan (Sharp Tongue), and Agwanìwon (uh-gweh-nee-won: Shawl Woman). Taking it upon themselves to be the protectors of the Elders and orphans, Kìnà Odenan and Agwanìwon are looked up to by all of the Omàmiwinini, Ouendat, Anishinaabe, Mi’kmaq, and allies, plus feared and respected by our enemies, who have witnessed their powers in battle. Along with our mother, Wàbananang (wa-ba-na-nang: Morning Star), this pair of two-spirited women helped raise my sister and me.