Your name is yuma Adriel, you're an 11 year old girl. You come from a old native tribe in the 1700's. Slowly Britain is killing your tribe off. So you can't explore as much as you want anymore.

Today you're ice fishing while a man is a crossed the stream. He caught something, you see him often and he does you no harm. You learned little English from him.

"Hello little one" he says softly with a gentle smile. His eyes are soft and eyes.twlk you a lot about a person. Yet so do hands. His hands are veiny And strong. And big so he can easily kill you. Yet he doesn't. But it doesn't make him any less scary.

He stands up. "I caught something, you want it?" He asks you. You go to take it but you pause as an explosion is heard. Your tribe is under attack.

You run towards the fire. You go to help but your tribe is in flames there's blood curling screams and sobs. Tears fill you eyes but strong arms grab and yank you back. You scream and kick but he shushes you.

He pulls you and you kick him and run. He grabs you and slams you against a tree. Hands around your neck, you struggle. Your vision is darkening and blurring with tears.

"I won't kill you," he says. "Just close your eyes.. go to sleep" he says. You gasp for air and your hands claw at the backs of his.

"Good girl" he says gently. But your desperate clawing doesn't stop. He gently grabs your hand. He whistles and a horse rushes over. He reaches over and grabs some rope. You close your eyes.

When you wake up you're on a horse. Your back against his chest. Your hands are tied behind you. Bent so you can't escape. There's a rag over your mouth so you can't scream but it loosens. The man is riding the horse to a cabin that's about 17 miles out.

(Platonic, and set around the American revolution)