My family is mostly gone.
I watched the last hunter shoot my son as I tried to drag my daughter behind the trees to protect her.
He fought the bullet inside him.
He was so brave.
I tried to reach him, but his last breath left him as his eyes grew dim.
No mother should have to watch her son die.
No mother should have to endure a hunter then coming to stand on him.
My heart shattered.
My daughter cried out in horror.
The hunters came for her and together we ran screaming.
My husband was shot first.
One moon ago.
I died inside the night the hunters began to skin him.
Around a camp fire they laughed and spoke in tongues of violence.
How they would take me and our children next.
I felt revenge well up inside me until the Spirit spoke softly.
Honour your family, protect your children.
Your husband is with us now and his love will carry you through.
I swore then that I would survive.
My daughter and I are now being hunted by the machines in the sky.
They rain down metal and shake the trees as they fly by.
I run hunted with my daughter.
We grow weak from despair and lack of food.
The hunters are everywhere.
They will not rest until we are all dead.
Is there no one out there that can hear our howls of dread?
Is there no one out there who will speak for us?
I feel my husbands love surrounding me and our last surviving child.
It gives us comfort as our eyes grow dim and we grow weak.
Is there no voice out there who will speak?
Speak for us. We are the hunted. We are alone. We are wolves.
We are dying.
Marla Stormwolf Patty, Vice-president and co-founder of AELLA, © September 2012