A Native American tells her horrifying story of growing up around the Kecleh-Kudleh. It felt like my heart had just been ripped from my chest and I was horrified at the carnage that lay before me. I had never experienced such horror and my mind did a jump. I actually felt the small flutter inside my head, a small tickle like butterfly wings. It was my accepting that what my eyes were seeing was real. This was all actually happening. I was heaving from running so hard and now I was going to get sick. I turned away and got sick a few times, knowing I still had to get out of these woods. I passed my horse slowly, keeping my eyes diverted. Then I broke into a full run again. I was halfway home when I met my dad coming up the trail on Thunder. Dad had his shotgun over one shoulder and his bow over the other. He reaches down with one hand and in a single, swift movement pulled me up behind him. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and began to sob into his back as he turned the horse and urged him into a run back down the trail.