the last woman standing

We have been here for thousands of years. We would have thought we’d be here for thousands more. Nothing took us down. Each woman handed the stories of the tribe down to her daughter and watched as she grew with pride. Learning the lessons of her mother. What a blessing to her elders this young woman was.
Till the day she was taken in chains to an enemy camp. The last survivor they said. And yes they had left many bodies behind. But there might be some Beothuk blood left in further away lands. A bride or child who wandered and spread more than her legs.
And this poor slave was meant to tell them all, but somehow she kept quiet. Our stories have stayed in Beothuk hands.


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