Mikwam description

He was Ojibwe. Maybe twenty-five years old. Young, but with a hardness in his eyes.

“You’re one of Moosejaw’s,” I said.

“Fuck you.” I slapped him across the face with my open hand. It stung and it was humiliating and it woke him right up. He clenched his jaw and fought against me, trying to free his arms. I slapped him again, harder. He stopped fighting. He was breathing hard through his nose, trying to control his anger.

“You’re blooded,” I said. “Majii Manidoo.” That stopped him. He squinted up at me, suspicious.

“How do you know that?” he said.

“I know a lot of things,” I said. “Who’d you kill?” He breathed through his nose some more. Shook his head. “Tell me,” I said, digging my weight into his arms. He breathed in and out. I slapped him again. “Tell me.” He glared at me and I looked right back until he looked away. “Who did you kill?” I said. I saw his eyes go far away. Eventually, he breathed,

“A man.”

“In the Boundary Waters?” He nodded. Moosejaw and his Wendigo control the unguarded border between the US and Canada known as the Boundary Waters. This kid was one of them. Silent assassins that know the land. Shadows that murder in the night. “How’d you do it?” I said.

“Waabishkiiwed make so much noise,” he said. “Wake the whole forrest. He was like a blind man. He never even saw me.”

“How’d you do it?” I said again. He breathed for a moment.

“Drowned him,” he said.
-Sledge vs. The Labyrinth, pg. 21-22