#kanien’kehá:ka (mohawk)

[phonaesthemes]

What if a Monopoly game board featured names and places relevant to Kanien'kehá:ka (Mohawk) culture instead of Reading Railroad and Park Place? That's what Niiakohontésha Gray envisioned when creating resources in Kanien'kéha, or the Mohawk language. "Whenever I was going to school ... we had a lot of different resources but I noticed I don't really have any games or [more fun] resources that you could play," said Gray, who is from Akwesasne, on the Quebec, Ontario and New York state borders. "I know for me, it's a lot easier learning whenever it's more fun." Gray is a graduate of Ratiwennahní:rats, a two-year adult language immersion program offered by the Kanien'kehá:ka Onkwawén:na Raotitióhkwa Language and Cultural Center in Kahnawà:ke, south of Montreal. After she graduated, she began teaching children at a grassroots immersion school in Ganienkeh, a settlement near Altona, N.Y. She noticed her students would always grab board games in English to play during their breaks, and wanted them to have options in their language.  She began translating and re-creating prototypes of various popular board games to reflect Kanien'kehá:ka language and culture and is now producing copies for other educators, language learners and their families. "I'm not the best speaker but I have an idea of what I want to do," she said.

That meant, instead of railroads, kids can land on kanonhséhsne —  longhouses — in Ganienkeh, Kahnawà:ke and Akwesasne. Tekiatén:ros, a matching game, uses words from a dictionary of Kanien'kéha nouns that is produced by the Kanien'kehá:ka Onkwawén:na Raotitióhkwa Language and Cultural Center. Teiotién:taron River McComber, who teaches in Ganienkeh and worked with Gray before she left for a new job in her community, says it's a creative way to reinforce the curriculum that students in Ratiwennahní:rats and elsewhere learn.  McComber was also in Ratiwennahní:rats, in the cohort a year ahead of Gray. "All the schools that I've been to would love to have these things because when I was working there [we] didn't have anything quite like this," said McComber. McComber said there aren't enough language resources available beyond the classroom, especially for children and even for many grassroots schools, being creative with the curriculum falls on the teachers. "Everybody would love this to happen but nobody is kind of taking time out of their work space to do it," said McComber.  "She's doing what she can, and it's wonderful." For Gray, doing this has helped her break out of her comfort zone by having to approach former classmates and elders to help with translations. "I have to reach out to people; I have to talk to people," she said. "I have a hard time reaching out to elders ... just because I know they're real fluent and I know that I'm not…. [I] just feel like I'm going to mess up and I'm just gonna embarrass myself. But I ended up reaching out to a few of them, and talked to them and … they helped me."

#Kanien'kéha #indigenous languages

[lanaflowerz]

Every day praising an indigenous character — Day 20

Sam Black Crow from American Gods

It isn’t said what tribe Sam is from other than her dad’s rez is in Oklahoma! She is played by Kawennáhere Devery Jacobs, who is of the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk)!

https://www.instagram.com/kdeveryjacobs/

https://americangods.fandom.com/wiki/Samantha_Black_Crow

#Sam Black Crow #Two Spirit #LGBTQIA #American Gods #Every day praising an indigenous character

[slutdge]

what’s miekélha? not same anon btw

Miekélha is hard to explain outside of the context of my tribe (mohawk/kanien’kehá:ka) or even just my family specifically (because we are not all the same, with language differences even occurring family to family), but I guess the easiest way I could explain it is although I'm white passing, I still have a right to my cultural practices and traditions (that i was literally raised with), and it is also a spiritual belief that every ancestor before me still lives inside me and I'm continuing their legacy as well as inheriting their pain from colonization so when people say "no youre just white" it is disrespectful both to my right to practice my culture, as well as to my family who had to suffer before me at the hands of colonizers because we were native.

But keep in mind, this description I just gave isnt even a full explanation, sometimes there are cultural aspects you simply cannot translate to others, there is much more to miekélha that i couldnt even begin to articulate properly and thats ok, closed cultural aspects are ok, full personal understanding is not necessary for respect.

#im sorry if this is a bit scrambled im a little foggy rn just cause im upset but i think i got my point across reasonably well #🌲

[penguinsomething]

Late post, but days like this are hard. Today is the national day for truth and reconciliation in Canada. Otherwise known as orange shirt day. It’s a day or remembrance. A day to recognize and honour the victims and survivors of residential schools, and all the children stolen from us who never made it home.

Wakathahión:ni Kanien’kehá:ka niwakenwenhtsió:ten (My clan is Wolf and I am from the Mohawk Nation). My family is from Wahta, but I am currently living on the unceded ancestral lands of the Beothuk and Mi’kmaq peoples. Today is a day I spend thinking of my ancestors and my relations. And it’s a day we encourage non-Indigenous peoples living on Indigenous land to educate themselves on the history of that land, and of the people who live there. A day where we encourage you to learn about the TRC’s 94 calls to action. And if you are able —and willing— to, there are many Indigenous organizations that would benefit from donations to support their programs and ongoing battles to protect Mother Earth.

One I can think of off the top of my head is Unist’ot’en camp, who ensure that food, water, and medical supplies are available for land defenders, and who make sure elders have the materials they need to continue their traditions and teachings.

Niá:wen (thank you) for taking the time to read this.

#penguinsomething #personal #truth and reconciliation #honestly I’m gonna post this and log off bc I’m not in an emotional state to deal with educating more than this atm #fyi we’re at an estimated 6000+ unmarked graves #and there are still ~100 residential schools to be searched. #indigenous

[annailujjay]

Shé:kon , Iónkiats Annailujj (jj), ohswé:ken nitewaké:non. Kanien’kehá:ka niwakonhwentsiò:ten

Translation: Hello, my name is Annailujj (jj), I am from six nations. I am mohawk).

Being able to speak my native language is a privilege, for so much has been erased. I don’t speak in my language often, opting for the many other languages I know, that are more palatable in a western society. English is my first language on the census, not the one thats in my blood.

#race discussions #native american #mohawk #native language #trending #tumblr girls #indie music #indie artist #2014 tumblr #poetry #tags for attention #music #annailujj

[walrusmagazine]

At Ninety-One, Alanis Obomsawin Is Not Ready to Put Down Her Camera

She revolutionized cinema and is inspiring the next generation of Indigenous filmmakers

On a hot Wednesday morning in July 1990, Alanis Obomsawin was listening to the car radio on her way to work when she heard about shots fired in Kanehsatà:ke. ­Instead of continuing on to her office at the National Film Board of Canada in Montreal, she sped straight to the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) community, about an hour’s drive outside the city. Obomsawin, who is Abenaki, would later tell a reporter that she knew an Indigenous person had to be there to document what was happening.

Read more at thewalrus.ca.

Photography by Shelby Lisk (shelbyliskphoto.com)

#Film #Documentary #Indigenous #Alanis Obomsawin #National Film Board #Photography #September/October 2023 #Zoe Heaps Tennant #Shelby Lisk

[edernetdotorg]

Canada: Ottawa Has Agreed To Provide $1 Billion In Education Funding To First Nations In Quebec

Canada: Ottawa Has Agreed To Provide $1 Billion In Education Funding To First Nations In Quebec

In Thursday, on the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) territory of Kahnawake, a $1.1 billion education deal was struck with the federal government. This agreement came as the culmination of years of hard effort by First Nations communities in Quebec to receive their ‘self-determination’ rights. The accord was signed in Kahnawake, a Mohawk reserve south of Montreal. It took Ottawa and the First Nations…

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#Canada #Education Funding #First Nation #Ottawa #Quebec

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotawesome]

i love this SFM i legit got a l’il misty reading it

#letterkenny #indigenous rep #kanien’kehá:ka #mohawk #original post

[caernua]

so thanks to the Kanien’kehá:ka Onkwawén:na Raotitióhkwa Language and Cultural Center, we now have a translation for all the Mohawk dialogue in the Vinland arc! ♡

#assassins creed #ac valhalla #”youre not in great shape white woman but you fish well” lmao

[breezeinmonochromenight]

I understand what you are saying but... I still don't get what so bad about having something from other nations. People take everything from everyone because they like it. They don't proclaim that they are the one who create this thing. And who are they gonna ask? There are certain people that physically own their mythology? I personaly would love if something from my mythology was used. Even without all the depth and accuracy. I myself don't know all the details about my own culture lol

In some cases there are literally councils for it.

The Florida State University Seminoles actually have a long-standing relationship with the Seminole tribe for this specific reason. They are one of the only schools/sports teams to do this. Even American Girl doll maker The Pleasant Company made the effort to gain approval from the Nez Perce, consult them when writing the books for the Kaya doll, and even remolded the doll’s face to have a closed mouth because of cultural taboo to make the most authentic doll possible. Hell, even Ubisoft Montreal reached out to a consultant at the Kanien’kehá:ka Onkwawén:na Raotitióhkwa (Mohawk) Language and Cultural Center for Assassin’s Creed 3 in order to avoid unintentionally being offensive and went as far as clearing Connor’s birth name (Ratonhnhaké:ton) for use + didn’t trademark it because names/name uniqueness are a huge deal in that culture.

It’s just basic respect, which I think should be the bare minimum, at least if you’re going to profit off of a culture that you’re not a part of.

It’s not my place to soapbox this, specifically, but I’d implore to look at the ask posted directly below this one.

#anonymous #if that is your real name #misc. #horror tag

[native-indigenous-characters]

Today’s Native/Indigenous Character in Media is Sam Black Crow from American Gods (2017-Present)!

It isn’t said what tribe Sam is from other than her dad’s rez is in Oklahoma! She is played by Kawennáhere Devery Jacobs, who is of the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk)!

Sam’s Two Spirit!!

#sam black crow #american gods #kawennáhere devery jacobs #mohawk #kanien'keha:ka #indigenous #native american #Indigenous Peoples #Native American Character #indigenous character #native indigenous characters #representation

[allthecanadianpolitics]

On 21 August, the Kanien’kéha:ka (Mohawk) of Kanehsatà:ke held a press conference in the Pines, the site of the so-called “Oka Crisis” that took place in the summer of 1990, to address the ongoing land fraud in their homelands. They gave Justin Trudeau and the Government of Canada until 31 August to intervene in the 300-year long land dispute and to stop all illegal development in Kanehsatà:ke. Earlier this summer, Sean Carleton sat down with Ellen Gabriel to talk about the recent developments Kanehsatà:ke.

As of 29 August, Trudeau is refusing to meet with the Mohawks and declare a temporary moratorium on development so that a peaceful resolution to ongoing tensions can be negotiated. This is unacceptable.

Canadian Dimension stands with the Kanien’kéha:ka (Mohawk) of Kanehsatà:ke and proudly publishes their most recent press release below.

***

Seské:ha - August 29, 2019

Ónka - Who: the Rotinonhseshá:ka ne Kanehsatà:ke (People of the Longhouse) under Kaianera’kó:wa (the Great Law of Peace); part of the Iroquois Confederacy

Ne Tekanikónhare – : Prime Minister Trudeau’s refusal to meet and to declare a Temporary Moratorium to stop Land Fraud sales and development in Kanehsatà:ke

People of the Longhouse Kanehsatà:ke are inviting Prime Minister Trudeau to a traditional Kanien’kehá:ka ceremony to burn sacred tobacco to begin our relationship anew, free of past injustice.

Today, the Canadian Government refused the People of the Longhouse of Kanehsatà:ke’s request for a temporary moratorium on development so that a peaceful solution can be negotiated; their refusal suggests they will continue colonial rule and their complicity in the ongoing dispossession of Indigenous lands.

It has been 9 days since the Rotinonhseshá:ka - People of the Longhouse of Kanehsatà:ke under Kaianera’kó:wa (the Iroquois Great Law of Peace), have issued our plea to the Government of Canada to halt the land fraud that continues the land dispossession for over 300 years on Homelands of Kanehsatà:ke.

Our primary plea to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, is a short term moratorium on all development in Homelands in Kanehsatà:ke so that we may begin a process of discussions to resolve our long standing historical land issues. This is a prerequisite for building an atmosphere of peace and respect so that knowledgeable discussions can begin to take place.

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has refused to meet with us although an offer to meet was given by MP Marc Miller, Parliamentary Secretary for Indigenous and Crown Relations, but rejected as there was no offer of solutions to the Kanehsatà:ke land conflict, no commitment to solutions, appearing to demonstrate the status quo of government to ignore and disrespect the un-extinguished rights of the Rotinonhseshá:ka ne Kanehsatà:ke.

Prime Minister Trudeau has had 4 years to make Kanehsatà:ke an example of genuine “reconciliation” and intervene in the land dispute. Instead he chose to not intervene through ignoring our requests and remained silent thereby endangering the security, health and well-being of the people of Kanehsatà:ke.

As we have stated over many decades and centuries, the Iroquois Confederacy have never extinguished, suspended or ceded any of our rights to our homelands.

The Great Law of Peace instructs all nations under the Tree of Peace, to extend our hands out in peace and friendship, for the health and well-being of present and future generations: so they may enjoy the land and care for it for the sake of future generations. Our ultimate goal is to create a legacy of peace; for without, peace, there is no hope without hope, there is no future.

We are hoping that we have all learned from the “1990 Oka Crisis” or Kanehsatà:ke Siege, and sincerely extend our hand in peace and friendship to Prime Minister Trudeau in hopes he will accept our invitation to burn sacred tobacco, bring our minds together and to start anew.

Skén:nen

Rotinonhseshá:ka of Kanehsatà:ke under Kaianera’kó:wa Kanien’kehá:ka of the Iroquois Confederacy

cc:

The Honourable Carolyn Bennett, Minister of Crown-Indigenous Relations  

The Honourable Seamus O'Regan, Minister of Indigenous Services            

Mr. Simon Marcil, Member of Parliament for Mirabel                                  

The Honourable Andrew Scheer, Leader of the Official Opposition            

Ms. Cathy McLeod, Official Opposition Critic for Indigenous and Northern Affairs       

Mr. Jagmeet Singh, Leader of the New Democratic Party       

Mr. Charlie Angus, New Democratic Party Critic for Indigenous and Northern Affairs        

Ms. Vicki Tauli Corpuz, United Nations Special Rapporteur on Indigenous Issues

Sean Carleton is a coordinating editor with Canadian Dimension.

Tagging: @ontarionewsnow @abpoli @politicsofcanada @torontopoli @qcnews

#Justin Trudeau #First Nations #Kanehsatake #Mohawk #cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news #canadian #Indigenous

[thereexists]

Robert Houle (Saulteaux, b. 1947) - The Pines. 2002–2004. Oil on canvas.

“The story of Canada is about us as well. From day one. Because we were here frst. We settled here frst. It’s a tripod, this country. It’s French, English and First Nations. We helped shape this country, you know, and we continue to.” —Robert Houle

From the Art Gallery of Ontario’s Teacher Resource:

“Robert Houle made this work after visiting the Pines, a burial ground and recreation area in Kanehsata:ke, a Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) settlement near Oka, Quebec. It was the site of an ongoing land dispute

In 1990, the Pines area became the site of a tense 78-day standoff between Canadian armed forces and Mohawk Warriors and Land Defenders from across Canada. The mayor of Oka (Jean Ouellette) approved condo construction and golf course expansion into the Pines, and the Kanehsata:ke community mobilized to block the construction. Quebec’s provincial police force, the Sûreté du Québec (SQ), attacked the barricade, letting off tear gas and concussion grenades. The Mohawk Warriors also succeeded in blocking bridges to the Island of Montreal, cutting off southern suburbs from the city. Negotiations eventually brought the bridge barricades down, and the standoff ended on September 26, 1990.

Houle painted The Pines for himself as a way of remembering the spiritual energy he felt when he visited the area. The Pnes is both a burial ground and a spiritual space. The colours represent the eastern and western doors – with Seneca in the west (blue) and Mohawk in the east (green).

Robert Houle (Saulteaux, born 1947) is a curator, educator and artist.

From 1977 to 1981, Houle was the frst Indigenous Curator of Contemporary Indigenous Art at the Canadian Museum of Civilization (now the Canadian Museum of History) in Ottawa. He resigned in protest after the contemporary Indigenous works he had been collecting were categorized as ‘anthropology’ by the museum.”

#art #robert houle #the pines #canadian art #indigenous art #saulteaux art #canadian artist

[clembarbarossa]

Rest and Peace I

The life of an Assassin is one of constant toil, emotional duress and gruesome murders. So, I thought it would be nice to give them rest. Nice days to recover and do what they enjoy at least, amongst their loved ones.

Hey everyone! I started I series of fics whose theme is going to be the Assassins (and some Templar) depicted in peaceful moments, often with love and intimacy, because they deserve it.

My first fic feature Ratonhnhaké:ton, along with some Homesteaders, and is dedicated to my good friend @jiruchan! Enjoy!

There is some Kanienké’ha in this fic too. Feel free to correct me if I messed things up.

You may read it here on Ao3 too.

________________________________________________________________

    August was coming to an end. The air was still warm, the smouldering summer heat under which Warren and Prudence had to toll wasn’t entirely gone. The year was good, the harvest bountiful thanks to the rich soil of the homestead. His carriage filled with caskets of corn, bags of wheat and vegetables, Warren went to Boston to sell their crops.

    Still, Prudence had her hands full. Pigs, Cows, Sheep and Poultry to tend to, and so many vegetables yet to pick, and the most delicate task of all: Hunter.

    The boy was no longer a baby she could strap to her back while working. At four years of age, he was as swift and lively as the bunnies that constantly tried to nibble at their pumpkins. Prudence was even more worried that he apparently inherited her restlessness. Since her pregnancy and eventful delivery, she toned down her escapades in the wilderness: she felt like her poor Warren’s heart shouldn’t be furthermore mistreated and brave Connor couldn’t be around every time to save her from bears or impatient babies. Speaking of the wolf…

    Ratonhnhaké:ton was peacefully walking down the path bordering the farm. Going to Myriam cabin, no doubt to plan their next delivery of fresh furs. What intrigued Prudence was that the young man wasn’t wearing his heavy hooded coat, even he had to adapt to the heat after all. Even more unusual was the absence of any of his weapons, no bow nor guns and neither tomahawk at his sides. Only his peculiar leather bracers remained.

    “Conno’!” Young Hunter had spotted Ratonhnhaké:ton too, and rushed to his side with his usual recklessness. The balance of four years olds being what it is, he tripped a first time, and a second that made him land flat on the ground. The boy began to wail a mere two second after and Prudence could not refrain a chuckle, her son certainly had had worse stunts. Connor picked him up and brushed the dirt off with his hand.

    “Hello Connor, what deadly injury has my child sustained?” she jokingly asked.

    “Nothing worth bothering Dr White,” he softly replied, as Hunter stopped crying “this case seems beyond saving, I am afraid…”

    Prudence laughed at Connor’s unexpected joke; the humour was lost to Hunter who whined and clang to the young man. The usually touch-adverse Connor welcomed the toddler’s embrace and picked him up in his arms as he got up.

  “You were up to discuss furs and pelts with Myriam, I wager?”

    “Yes. Ellen is expecting a big commission from Boston and needed material, it will be easier to do if we team up.”

    “Indeed. Now sweetheart,” she turned to her son, “Connor has business to do, you heard, so you better leave him be…”

    Hunter yelped a defiant “No!” and clang harder to Connor when his mother attempted to grab him. The frown she made reminded Connor of how his own mother reacted to him misbehaving; she shifted her tone accordingly:

    “Oh no, you son of mine, you do not talk back to me.” Prudence growled without raising her usually gentle voice, “no one has time for a tantrum here, not Connor and certainly not me.” Hunter made a sad put and started to loosen his grip on Connor when the man spoke:

    “I do not mind if he stays with me, Prudence. You look like you have much to do and I am not that busy myself.”

    Prudence was taken aback by her friend’s proposal, but she had to admit it was a tempting one; she could finish her work much earlier without her toddler scampering around.

    “Aw that’s awfully nice of you Connor, but you are like Warren you spoil him too much, he’s going to turn rotten!” Hunter stuck his tongue out at his mother who playfully flicked him on the nose, the toddler giggled.

    “Sorry for that”, Connor said with a smile.

    “Don’t apologise for bein’ nice. And thank you, I could use this help, I trust you with him more than Terry’s boys.”

    Connor chuckled, Malcolm and Angus were rowdy kids and their last attempt at babysitting nearly ended in disaster. Thankfully, Norris saw them in his mine before lighting his charge’s fuse.

                                             <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

    One of the first things Hunter told Connor when he started to talk was for asking him why he is so tall. The adults around laughed at the young boy’s questions. Prudence didn’t miss the occasion and proclaimed that Connor became so tall because he wasn’t fussing when eating his soup, unlike a certain someone. Oliver thought more likely that the robust and meaty native diet was to thanks for that and Lyle White pondered if the fresh air of the Kanien’ké valley, free of the towns’ miasma, was responsible. Connor had no answers, although his parents were certainly not short. The memories of both Kaniehtí:io and Haytham made him fell silent for the rest of the evening.

    Now, Connor long legs and usual fast paced walk rapidly proved way too quick for little Hunter who scrambled behind him.

    “Conno’… Conno’!” The young man turned to face his charge, Hunter’s face clearly showed his frustration as he approached, “you too fast… I can’t follow you…”

    “You are right, Hunter. My apologies.” Ratonhnhaké:ton softly replied, he extended his hand to the boy who eagerly took it.

    For the rest of the walk, Connor had to lean and adjust his pace to Hunter’s. He didn’t mind as the child was extremely happy that way. He was hopping alongside his friend on the forest path and pointing at the birds while making joyful noises. Connor was used of this now, and resisted the urge to chide him for what would be seen as awfully rude amongst his people. He caught sight of a Northern Cardinal, all crimson, singing on a branch. “Look Connor, all the pretty feathers! Do you use its feather for your hair?”, the boy asked.

    “We do not. We use Eagle’s feathers.”

    “Oh. And why do you use feathers?”.

    Connor pondered the question and the best way to answer it to the boy. It was not often that Colonists asked him questions about his culture, even amongst his Assassin brethren. “We use it to celebrate, to show our feats to our people and our origin too.”

    “Origin?”

    “Well... I am from the Kanien’kehá:ka nation, or… Mohawk as some say. If I want to show it to the people of other tribes, I will have to put three eagle’s feathers in my hair.”

    “Oh!” Hunter showed a great deal of interest that surprised Connor, “and why don’t you do it now then?”

    “I… I am not… It will not fit with my hood.”

    “Aw… to bad, because I think it’s pretty!”

    “Yes. And we use feather to make things pretty too.” Hunter giggled.

    As they were nearing Myriam’s cabin, Connor spotted an Owl that Hunter didn’t see. He kneeled beside the boy and pointed at it with is lips, in native fashion. “Look here: tsihstekeri.”

    “What!?” The toddler’s shout startled the bird of prey who angrily stared at them both.

    “Tsihstekeri,” repeated Connor, “That’s how my people call the owls.”

    “Wah! And how you call eagles?”

    “Akweks.” Ratonhnhaké:ton replied.

    Connor was baffled but endeared by Hunter’s awe. To a four years old boy still struggling with English, the idea that things could be named in a whole different language was a constant source of amazement. When they reached Myriam’s cabin, Connor smiled and said “Iontó:rats.”

    “Hello to you too, Connor.” Myriam absentmindedly replied; she was sharpening the knife Norris once gifted her. “Kwey[1]! That’s how you say it too, right?”

    That word was familiar to Ratonhnhaké:ton, it was the first that sprung out of the lips of the tribes north and south of the Great Lakes and the Great Walking River[2] when they meet each other.

    “This is a greeting we use amongst many people, though my brethren usually say Shé:kon, to greet one another.”

    “Then what did you say, just now?”, Myriam stood up, “I hope you weren’t calling me names”, she jokingly added.

    “Conno’ is teaching me words!”, Hunter suddenly shouted.

    “Yes, Iontó:rats means ‘Huntress’.”

    “Oh well, ‘Yon-do-rads’? That’s nice to know. And how would you call a little hunter like we have here?”, she said while smiling at Hunter.

    “Rató:rats.”, he replied, while smiling at his young charge who beamed back.

    Connor and Myriam started discussing their upcoming tasks: on which ground to hunt and which to lay traps, where to find the best furs for Ellen. Hunter quickly bore of this conversation and began to wander around the Huntress’s cabin. The sight of dead trapped rabbits and drying furs didn’t faze the little farm boy much, he was used to it, watching his father kill pigs and poultry then playing in the feathers his mother plucked. The traps aligned by the door caught his eyes however. While the snares where not much to look at, the wolf and bear traps, with their sharp teeth, inspired him a morbid curiosity…

    “Do not touch that, Hunter!”

    Connor’s shout snapped him out of his little examination, his fingers already too close to the rusty maws, thankfully closed.

    “Oh, you need to keep an eye on that one, remind me of someone…” snickered Myriam.

    “Indeed” Connor beckoned Hunter to approach, as the toddler came closer, pouting all the way, he took his hand in his own, “There are things you should not touch, little one,” he lightly squeezed his fingers to make his point, “those could easily hurt you if you are not careful. Do you understand?”

    Hunter nodded and looked away, a bit upset by the lecture, Connor elected not to mind that. Myriam laughed as she stood up.

    “Well, I’m not in a hurry to get one of my own. It’d be complicated to have another baby around.”

    “I’m not a baby…” muttered Hunter and Myriam laughed again, tried to gently poke his puffed cheeks only for the boy to whine and hide behind Connor’s broad back.

    “You and Norris aren’t planning to have one?”

    “Well, he’d like too, and I’m not really against it, but you know how I feel about the whole housewife business.”

    “I do,” Connor smiled, “and the trees remember too.”

    “Oh please,” Myriam rolled her eyes, “Don’t bring this up, I panicked and nearly ruined my dress in this damn river.”

    They both laughed while Hunter side-eyed them.

                                                <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

    Ratonhnhaké:ton and Hunter were back into the wilds, the adults assigned each other places were to lay traps. Once again, Connor was carrying Hunter on his shoulders, to protect him from the bushes and vines. Hunter was lazily resting on Connor’s head, humming a little tune while playing with his braids. Connor didn’t mind and was looking for good spots for trapping foxes. Since he was in charge of Hunter, both he and Myriam thought it wiser that she takes care of the wolves and their pelts.

    Finding a good place, he crouches to lay his snare and place some bait. Hunter tighten his grip on Connor’s head and giggles as these movements make him rock back and forth. Connor playfully moves his shoulders to humour the child some more. Hunter’s laughter of delight echoes under the trees and scare off numerous birds.

    “Ush, Hunter, look.” Connor pointed toward the edge of the forest, by a clearance bathed in sunlight, first with his lips, then with his hands when Hunter didn’t understand. “Over there, quietly…”

    The boy squinted in this direction then gasped.

    “A doe!” His whisper barely concealed his excitement.

    “Yes. Oskenón:ton. Keep looking, under her belly.” Hunter focused, and saw a small creature peeking under the deer, similar but smaller with a constellation of white spots on its back.

    “Her baby!”, this time Hunter wasn’t as discreet and shouted. The doe stiffened and raised her head, sniffing the air, her ears twisting in all direction, searching for any trace of danger. Hunter realised his mistake and covered his mouth with his hands.

    “You need to be careful, Hunter,” whispered Connor, “Do not make any noise, lest you want to startle the animals.”

    The doe hopped back in the thick of the woods, her progeny right after her.

    “Aw no~” Hunter pouted, disappointment clear in his voice,

    “You will have other chances. Just remember to be silent, alright.” Ratonhnhaké:ton felt the boy’s nodding and resumed walking.

    “Conno~?”

    “Hum?”

    “I’m hungry…”

    “Is that so? Hum…” Connor thought of an answer as Hunter was starting to squirm, he remembered a place where blackberry brambles were growing and probably bear fruits this time of year, it would be a good trapping ground too. “Do you like blackberries, Hunter?”

    “I do! I do!”, the boy shouted in excitation and trampled his legs on Connor’s torso. “Let’s go pick bwackberries, Conno’!”

    The young man laughed at the sound of his charge’s childish slurs and enthusiasm and sprung forward.

    Despite Connor’s firm grip on the boy’s legs, he did bounce quite a bit on his shoulders. Hunter’s laughter and encouragement to go faster made him increase his pace. A soft wind began to blow, ruffling the leaves and the grass, cooling both of their faces. Hunter laughed even more and raised his arms to try and catch the leaves blown away. Connor kept his fast pace and the speed made forest around them blur in shades of green and brown.

    As they were nearing the brambles, Connor slowed down but kept skipping to humour the child. Even amongst Hunter’s giggles, he could distinctly hear a ruffle in the bushes that was way too loud to be of a hare, and far too near to be on an animal anyway. He came to an abrupt stop and gently placed in index on Hunter’s lips to advise him silence, the boy gasped and froze, taking this as a new game or the chance to see another creature.

    As they stood silent and listening, the ruffling increased.

    “Shit!”

    “Oh! That’s not an animal!” exclaimed Hunter, “Hey! Your mommy will wash your mouth with a soap if you swear!”

    “Don’t tell Ellen, then!” a girlish voice replied beyond the brambles. Connor recognised it as Maria’s. He couldn’t see the girl yet but heard her struggling in the bushes.

    “We will not, Maria. But what are you doing?” As he said that, Connor was approaching and saw the teenage girl, her dress tangled in the brambles and stained by blackberries. She looked up with a mixed expression of contrition and anger, somewhat softened by the sight of little Hunter perched atop Connor’s shoulders.

    “I was just strolling around. Something startled me and… Mom is going to kill me.” She said looking at the disaster brought on her dress.

    “She certainly will not,” Connor reassured her, “but she will probably want you to fix your dress.”

    “Same thing! I hate doing it, I don’t wanna become a seamstress, damn it!”

    “You should not swear in front of Hunter.”, Connor warned as he was getting the boy off his shoulders.

    “Right,” she sniffled, “Sorry, I… I have been trapped here for a quarter of an hour at least…”

    “Conno’ and I we saw a lot of birds,” exclaimed Hunter, running toward her, “and a doe and her baby!”

    “Ah… I that so?”, Maria replied with a grimace, trying to be somewhat amiable to the toddler.

    “Yes!” He lowered his voice, “and Conno’ he told me to be quiet because… because we shouldn’t scare the mommy with her baby!” He exclaimed anew, forgetting his caretaker’s advice.

    “Her fawn, Hunter.” Connor softly corrected him as he started to help Maria getting untangled.

    “Fawn!” Hunter joyfully repeated, “We saw a doe and her fawn, Maria!”

    “You two are lucky, then… The only thing I saw was a go… a cursed wolverine. Foul beast snarled at me, that’s why I ran and got caught here.”

    “You did well,” replied Connor, “better getting caught in a thicket than treading on the ferocious Tsikenekerehetshotáhrhon.”

    “The what?!?” Exclaimed Maria.

    “Conno’ is teaching me animal names in his language.” Answered Hunter, “An eagle you call it ‘Ag-wek’!”

    “Oh. That’s nice…” Hunter proudly beamed at her. “I think you’ll have to cut some of it Connor, it’d be too tattered even if you get it out anyway… And I forgot my knife…”

    “It looks like you are right…” Connor glanced at Hunter to check where he was looking; luckily, he was already picking and savouring the blackberries. Connor swiftly detached is left hidden blade to cut Maria free of the thorns. She stumbled out the way and stretched her legs, enjoying her new freedom.

    “Ah, thank you Connor! You must have magical power, always here to save people when needed!”

    “I wish it was true, Maria,” sadly replied Connor, he handed her the ragged piece of cloth he just got out of the bramble.

    “Maria! Say “Aaah”!”, Maria looked down to see Hunter presenting a blackberry for her to pick, the boy already had purple juice all over his mouth. She got the fruit with her mouth and smothered Hunter’s giggles with her new rag.

                                              <<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

    Once the trio had their fill of blackberries, or “Teiote’nenhrà:kton” as Ratonhnhaké:ton taught them, they got to rest at the edge of a clearing.  Hunter was running around after the butterflies, observing the various insects frolicking in the grass. Maria lent him her mop cap to shelter his head from the sun. It made him look rather odd, and her quite improper by colonial standard, with her brown locks free on her back, but neither of them cared, and neither did Connor.

    They were both sitting in the shade of a great oak, keeping an eye on the kid, a small mount of berries on a leather piece between them from which Maria regularly picked. Her chin was resting on her knees and her hands were buried in her dress. Connor was more relaxed; his legs were stretched in front of him and he was resting on his elbows. He didn’t get to place a lot of snares but that was something he could always do latter, with a more proper equipment this time.

    “I should do like Myriam and wear trousers when I go for a walk”, Maria suddenly muttered.

    “That would be more convenient indeed.” Replied Connor, “You said you don’t like sewing, but couldn’t you make yourself a pair?”

    Maria frowned and half buried her face behind her knees, “I asked Mom… she said it wasn’t proper, quoted a part of the Bible that said it was an ‘abomination’,” Maria snorted of frustration, “and made me read ten pages of it!”.

    “I see.” Connor understood the teenager frustration, colonial women had to put up with a lot of constraints while those of his people were the one running the show. His own reading of the Bible was motivated by his desire to better understand colonial society. While he managed to chew through the Genesis and Exodus, wondering all the way which parts were true, which were fictions and how many pieces of Eden were involved, the following books infuriated him with their nonsensical rules. He gave up and Father Timothy had the kindness to explain the rest to him. “I hope she doesn’t say that about Myriam.”

    “No. I brought her up actually, and she said that Myriam wear pants because of her trade and that – unlike me – she’s an adult.”

    “Eh, she has a point.”

    “Still, it’s unfair. I don’t mind dresses, but what’s the point of letting me explore if I have to keep it?”

    “You really do like the wilderness around here, do you?”, Connor asked. He saw a glimmer in Maria’s eyes before she answered.

    “Yes! I love it here! Everything is beautiful, it’s quiet, I discover new things every week, I doesn’t stink, and the people are nice. It’s not like in New-York…”, her demeanour suddenly darkened, “When this piece of trash was beating Mom again, I was asking for help to everyone… The neighbours, the guards, nobody answered… If you didn’t happen to be here…”

    “I was. And I would do it again anytime, Maria.” Connor comforted her, “As will everyone in the homestead.”

    “I know. That’s why I like it here.” She said with a smile. Connor smiled as well; it was during these moments that he knew everything he was doing wasn’t in vain. That he was actually able to help people be safe and happy. They both stayed silent a little while until Hunter ran toward them.

    “Conno’!! Maria! Look what I got! Look!” The overexcited toddler opened his hands to reveal a massive spotted beetle with a pair of horns on its head[3].

    “That is a good catch, Hunter.” Connor said, “Well done.”

    “Looks like a Rhinoceros…” Maria mumbled.

    “A what?” Hunter asked.

    “Rhi-no-ce-ros. It’s a giant beasty from Africa with two horns on its head, like your bug here. I’m sure Connor has heard of it.”

    “I did not. You seem really knowledgeable on the matter, Maria.”

    The young girl struggled a bit to refrain a smile of pride, “I have a book with a lot of engravings of animals from all around the world, some of them reaaally weird. I got it at school because of my good grades.” She noticed the gleam of expectation in Hunter’s big eyes, “I’ll show it to you, if you want”

    The toddler beamed at the proposal and voiced his approval of the idea. It was at this moment that the beetle decided it had enough of his handling and flew off his hands. The young boy tried to catch it without any success.

    “Ah no! It was gift for Mommy!”

    “Living beings are no gift, Hunter. Especially wild animals, that’s why it got away, you cannot deprive it of its freedom.” Connor lectured him.

    “And I don’t think Prudence would like this kind of gift anyway,” snarked Maria, “You should get her a bouquet instead, there’s plenty for it in this meadow.”

    Hunter instantly got his smile back and ran away in the grass to pick flowers. Connor chuckled, memories came back of an adventure where a flowery gift was less appreciated, but Prudence would like it no doupt.

    “So, you were good at school, a pity there isn’t any here.”

    “Oh, I had time to learn a lot. And Father Timothy keeps teaching me about a lot of things, not just the Bible. And he’s waaay nicer than the Pastor’s wife who was teaching us back in New York.”

    “Good to hear. And… do you know what you want to do later?”

    “I already work with Mom, and she wants me to take over after her.” She buried her face between her knees again, “And I don’t want to be a seamstress. I think that I want to see more of the world and help people, like you do.”

    Connor’s back stiffened. It wasn’t an answer he was expecting, part of him felt pride and approval, but he also felt fear, for his path was hard, dangerous, and thankless. For his brothers and sisters, being an Assassin was their choice. On the contrary, it was something destiny, or dreadful spirits, threw at him and he embraced it without fully realising the implications at first and he had to learn the hard way. He wasn’t one to turn down expectations and potential recruits, but dragging a young girl into his world was the last thing he wanted, especially the daughter of a friend.

    “I just help people I encounter.” Connor tried to divert the subject, “It is just something anyone would do, and should do.”

    “Ah! You’re humble but you won’t fool me. No ordinary hunter would go around with a frigate, and with those knives inside your wrists”, she glanced at Connor’s hidden blades’ bracers, “Achilles and you were working for people like Tallmadge, right? Helping the Patriots during the war?”

    “You… Let’s say that you are not far from the truth.” Connor was impressed by the girl’s deductions and relieved that her conclusion was wrong while still plausible.

    “Humpf! You can’t hide it from me,” she said with a mischievous smile, “Once I manage to make a pair of pants under Mom’s nose, you’ll have to teach me how to run in the trees like you do.”

    Connor chuckled, “Why not? Myriam could give you some lessons as well.”

    Maria brought her legs closer to her body, but Connor could clearly see her wide and proud smile.

                                                 <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

    As the afternoon was ending, the trio made its way back to the village. Hunter was holding Maria’s hand and his flowers in the other, hopping and humming a tune. Ratonhnhaké:ton was walking besides them, holding a generous bounty of berries in a bag. As they were approaching Ellen and Maria’s house, the girl made a stop.

    “Mom is going to scold me for the dress…”

    “Probably, but she will also be glad to see you safe and sound. Trying to hide the truth from her is a bad idea, she will know in a way or another.”

    “Right…” Maria sighed and went along with Hunter as the boy was pulling her hand.

    Maria’s fears were only partially true: Ellen clearly wasn’t happy with the dress but her anger was alleviated by the offering of blackberries, the fact that Maria had to run from a wolverine and the laugh she had when she noticed Hunter still wearing her daughter’s mop cap.

    Before they left, she offered a red ribbon to properly hold Hunter’s bouquet, and quickly re-arranged the flowers to better suit Prudence’s tastes despite the boy’s protests when she left the dandelions out.

    After proper good-byes, and Maria’s renewal of her promise to show her book to Hunter, they left for the farm. Connor indulged Hunter with another ride on his shoulder. The toddler was overjoyed when Connor crossed the river by doing some free-running on a log instead of the bridge.

    When they reached the farm, Prudence was resting under the porch, Connor let go of Hunter and the child ran to his mother.

    “Mommy! Mommy! Look what I got you!”

    “You what? Oh!” Prudence laughed when her son shoved the flowers under her nose to give her a good look of it. “Thank you, my son, I like your flowers very much.”

    “Maria told me to do it and Ellen gave me the ribbon. Do they smell good?” the boy asked. His mother took the bouquet a smelled it, she did it noisily on purpose before giving her verdict.

    “They smell wonderful, Hunter.” He beamed and Prudence embraced her son as thanks. This view brought a smile to Connor, he was happy to see that some were able to freely enjoy what was taken from him.

    “Well now I’ll have to put them in a vase.” She said while standing up, “A thousand thanks to you Connor, for taking care of my son. I hope he wasn’t too much to handle and that he didn’t prevent you from doing your work.”

    “Your son behaved splendidly, Prudence. And don’t worry, none of my tasks had any urgency. I’ll leave you two be for now to attend to it.”

    “Wait!” Hunter yelped as Connor was leaving. The toddler ran to the man to hug him. Connor smiled and accepted his embrace.

    “Good bye, Conno’. I’ll get to spend time with you again and you’ll teach me other words, right?”

    “Right.” Connor smiled, “As soon as I can. Goodbye for now, Rató:rats.” Hunter laughed.

    After really leaving and waving back, Connor was left by himself again. The Sun was starting to set and the warm evening light was bathing the trees and meadows. Musty smells of flowers, earth, evergreens and berries were filling the air. Insects and birds were chirping, only interrupted by the occasional breeze that contrasted nicely with the warmth of late August’s weather.

    As he came into view of the Manor, Ratonhnhaké:ton realised – with a pinch of sadness to his heart – that it was the first time in months that he had such a nice and quiet time. He probably won’t get another moment like it anytime soon, but such was his work as an Assassin. After all, it was the joy and relief he could bring to others and the promise of such times that made it worth it.

    Clearing the clouds of sadness off his mind, like he already did so many times before, and armed with a new resolve, he prepared himself to gear up again.

End notes :

[1] Algonquin for “Hello”, it became a word for salute in many north-eastern languages.

[2] The Saint-Lawrence river

[3] Eastern Hercules Beetle (Dynastes tityus). It looks like a beige Rhinoceros beetle, with black spots.

#Mes Bafouilles #Ratonhnhaké:ton #Connor Kenway #Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed #Kids #Hunter #Maria #Prudence #Ellen #Myriam #Rest and Peace

[asteria33]

Ehnita

A long time ago a pact was formed with Ziio and Tsio:kwaris, a nearby  Kanien’kehá:ka or Mohawk tribe chief that if one day Tsio:kwaris was to have a daughter, then Ziio’s son, Ratonhnhaké:ton would be arranged to marry her whenever she came of age. 

Unfortunate as it was, Tsio:kwaris only had five sons and no daughters. 

Until one day while hunting, his eldest son found a small child. A white baby girl who was crying her head off. There were no parents in sight and instead of minding his own business the son thankfully took her to his father. 

Despite the superstitious opinions of his tribe, he decided to keep the baby as his only daughter. 

Her name is Ehnita, meaning moon. Called by her Mohawk name whenever they saw her hair was silver. 

Although whenever she was fifteen, her adoptive father grew very ill, and died shorty after of a sickness caught from the nearby Europeans. But before his passing, he told her of the arrangement made between him and the late wonderful Ziio. In wanting to fulfill this pact for her father, she decides when she’s eighteen she will set out from New York and seek for the man called  Ratonhnhaké:ton in Massachusetts. 

And now, the time has come. 

#connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #x oc #oc #fanfic #arranged marriage

[kitthomasart]

New art for sale - Link❤️ in Bio 💜 “Heart”8”x10” Acrylic on Canvas. • 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒆? -[]-[]-🌲-[]-[]- 🐻 🦅 🦌 ✊🏿✊🏾✊🏽✊🏼✊🏻✊ Haudenosaunee (hoe-dee-no-SHOW-nee) means “people who build a house or people of the Long House” the general term we use to refer to ourselves, instead of “Iroquois.” The word “Iroquois” is reclaimed from a French word. Decolonize! ✊🏽 • Think that’s cool? Check out the line up featuring the 𝟼 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 of our Confederacy. Can you guess what my tribe is? * Seneca * Cayuga * Onondag * Oneida * Mohawk ✨ 🌙 ❤️ 🐺 Kanien’kehá:ka – People of the Flint. • • • • #haudenosaunee #haudenosauneeart #mohawknation #indigenous #indigenousart #onkwehonwe #nativeart #nativeamerican #reclaimyourpower #strongresilientindigenous #beadedjewelry #nativewomen #mmiw #indigenouswomen #akwesasne #dtlaart #acryliccanvas #iroquois #haudenosaunee #twospirit (at Los Angeles/Hollywood California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9ufnYkFlvq/?igshid=nemq7mtrzt68

#haudenosaunee #haudenosauneeart #mohawknation #indigenous #indigenousart #onkwehonwe #nativeart #nativeamerican #reclaimyourpower #strongresilientindigenous #beadedjewelry #nativewomen #mmiw #indigenouswomen #akwesasne #dtlaart #acryliccanvas #iroquois #twospirit