How Not to Date a Skunk by Stephanie Burke Page A

ankle-length moccasins of black leather edged in white fur.
    The fur of the younger warrior was shorter and fluffier, while the fur edging around the ankles of the elder was long and silky, falling to the ground as they began to move faster, spinning and stomping their feet to an beat that only the two of them could hear.
    Banded around the tops of their calves were strips of beaded white fur with the same distinguishing features, fluffy for the younger, longer and silkier for the elder.
    Unlike most regalia, their clothing held no bells or jingles. As the men moved, they were totally silent.
    When they spun, her attention was captured by the bustles that covered most of their backs. Instead of bird feathers, the half circles that swayed with the movements of their butts and backs were made of black fur, with long strips of white fur that hung from the tips of each fur shaft. They swayed, touching the ground in a familiar pattern, but the animal they emulated eluded her.
    Both their War Bonnets had the same traditional shape, outlining the men’s foreheads in a soft bonnet with tails that hung to the ground. But again, the headdresses of each young warrior were made of fur. The bands that touched their foreheads were beaded in the same black, white and red pattern, but above that was a band of fluffy white fur. And in place of the usual upright feathers were the same black shafts of fur tipped in white.
    She had never seen anything like this in all her travels or research.
    The two warriors began to dance faster, their feet lifting and dropping in a syncopated rhythm, the younger obviously challenging the elder while trying to keep
    up with his ever more complicated foot work. The elder seemed to be enjoying the challenge, leading the younger man to try and top his every move.
    They moved closer together and then further apart, never losing the implicit beat she swore she could begin to hear.
    As she watched, both men bent low, swaying from side to side, their bustles bouncing to the beat of their movements. They rose up, stamping harder and harder before dropping low again, constantly circling each other.
    Then, in a move she had never seen before, the younger seemed to leap into the air and land on his hands. In a perfect handstand, he began to circle the elder, his legs waving in the air, making complicated movements in time to the soundless beat.
    Not to be intimidated, the elder leapt into the air, landing on his hands, and began to duplicate the complicated legwork. But he also added another element. He moved his arms, the same arms that supported his whole weight, in the same complicated movement as his feet.
    The younger was clearly at a loss. He tried to duplicate the elder’s movements and almost fell on his face for his efforts. But he quickly recovered and tried again and again, never getting the movements perfectly.
    Finally he dropped to his feet again and took a lunging step toward the elder.
    The elder retaliated by bouncing from one hand to the other, still keeping up with the complicated footwork while upside down.
    She could almost feel the frustration coming off the younger man. The two warriors circled each other, one upright, one on his hands, as they danced, spinning and challenging.
    Finally the elder dropped to his feet and spun, his movements a clear dismissal of the younger as he began to move away. The younger stomped harder, following, and finally, as if tiring of the game, the elder turned and stomped just once.
    As he did, a wave of something seemed to waft over Bilana, making her heart stutter, and she blinked, trying to decide what that move had just done to her. But despite the breathless effect it had on her, it had an even greater impact upon the
    younger man. He was actually lifted off his feet to land on his bottom several feet away from the elder warrior.
    All movement stopped.
    The elder finally broke the tension by dancing over to the younger, his feet still keeping the beat of their