Makkitotosimew sat in front wigwam cross leged. She hated making baskets but it was one of those things no matter how much you hated it you had to do it. It reminded her too much of her mother. She still loved her so much despite the fact she had died over 3 years ago.

Dyani was passing by, her black hair flying behind her. She was wearing a simple summer dress, made of deer skin. She noticed Makkitotosimew sitting in front of her wigwam, making a basket.

Since she was always nice to the people in her village, she stopped by and greeted her.

"Hello, Makkitotosimew." she said, still standing.

"Hello Dyani." Makkitotosimew looked up and smiled. "Where are you headed to today?"

"Nowhere. I was just taking a walk along the village, seeing how everyone is." she said.

"That sounds fun." she smiled sweetly.

"Yes." she replied, now sitting down," A nice basket you are making."