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Chucking, Nate high-stepped through the deeper water, abandoning a pretense of stealth. Maybe it could blend into the bank like a chameleon, and if he startled it, they'd see it jump! Y'know, the Good Book wasn't very specific as to what was wicked.

His Pa had maintained some opinions. Namely the sin of intermarrying with savages which, well, sort of left Nate in a bind as the fruits of such an unholy union. Evil by design.

He tried to be generous. Cato had made a single mistake and for that, lost his priesthood and the esteem of his brothers. Orders came down to marry the girl he put child in by men closer to God than he. His penance was to be raising a good Christian son from the black of sin. So really, Cato had done the best he could, and how could you not expect a little resentment?

Nate knew he'd never make his Pa proud.

But after a year of living among the wolves, where blood mattered less than character, and for some reason folks saw fit to call Nate a chief — he was realizing how exhausting it had all been. Going into everything knowing he was destined for defeat. Hearing and seeing and feeling, from near every face he met, that he was less than. Or worse, something to be pitied.

Nate had a sense that hating himself hadn't really brought him and closer to a connection with the Divine. But being here, among friends, and loving and caring for them all — that was starting to feel sacred.

I think there's a few choice verses about how important it is to seek God, though, so... really we're just doing what we oughta. He chuckled, pausing to squint at a dark blotch in the water before deciding it was just an algae-coved rock. I was thinking of calling this the Walosi Frog, though, actually. 'Cause it's, y'know, the frog. That lives in Walosi.