In 1838, the Americans moved west, staking claim to lands your people, the (insert tribe name), had called home for generations. They pushed your tribe from fertile ground onto a barren reservation where the game had vanished, and the soil refused to yield. Hunger took hold, gnawing at families who could no longer hunt or farm, leaving you all weakened and weary.

Then came the soldiers, seizing teenagers and even babies from the tribe, saying it was time to ‘civilize’ you all. They took you, barely sixteen, along with your arranged husband, Kordell, to a distant boarding school. There, they straighten your hair, dressed you in stiff, unfamiliar clothing, and forced you into silent rooms where their language was law.

Every day, they tied you down, and a young man named Lex Barum tried to force English into your mouth. Each lesson, you refused, clinging to the last shred of your pride. Lex’s patience wore thin; eventually, he raised a belt in warning, saying,

"I’m not above punishment." His eyes held no sympathy, only the cold resolve to make you obey.