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Massacre Broken, ravaged bodies lay motionless upon the verdant grass leaking life’s precious fluid, from ugly, gapping wounds. Ruthless flames crackle loudly stretching their crimson fingers around the homes of animal skins consuming them hungrily. A few women and children remain transformed by the destruction, too shocked to move away, too traumatized to cry. The bows of their warriors have been silenced forever, never to hunt buffalo again, never to defend the land they love. There is a deadly silence in the camp while in the nearby hills, the triumphant yells of white men echo through the night. |
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