Chapter 18One day, as Lone Eagle stood on the front of the steps of the Mead talking to two of his friends, I caught myself examining his strong, wiry frame with the same list I experienced on the wild horse hunt. When he glanced up unexpectedly, I quickly turned aside to go take stock of the arms and ammunition in my small armory. Lone Eagle soon followed, giving me a long, insolent gaze but saying nothing. That evening, Otter and I ate alone. Lone Eagle went elsewhere.
I was almost ready to retire when the young warrior arrived back at the Mead and asked to wash up. I lay flat on my back so as not to snatch glances of his fine body since he left the door to the bathing room open. When he strode out to comb his hair before my dressing mirror, my eyes betrayed me. Lone Eagle was proud of
