William Blake: Nobody! Shouldn’t you be with your own tribe, or something?

Nobody: My blood is mixed. My mother was Ungampe-Pikane. My father is Absoluca. This mixture was not respected. As a small boy, I was often left to myself. So I spent many months stalking the elk people, to prove I would soon became a good hunter. One day, finally, my elk relatives took pity on me, and a young elk gave his life to me. With only my knife, I took his life. As I was preparing to cut the meat, white men came upon me. They were english soldiers. I cut one with my knife, but they hit me on the head with a rifle. All went black. My spirit seemed to leave me. I was then taken east, in a cage. I was taken to Toronto. Then Philadelphia. And then to New York. And each time I arrived at another city, somehow the white men had moved all their people there ahead of me. Each new city contained the same white people as the last, and I could not understand how a whole city of people could be moved so quickly. Eventualy, I was taken on a ship, across the great sea, over to England. And I was paraded before them, like a captured animal. An exhibit. And so I mimicked them, imitating their ways, hoping that they might lose interest in this young savage. But their interest only grew. I was copying them, so they placed me into the white men schools. It was there that I discovered, in a book, the words that you, William Blake, had written. They were powerful words, and they spoke to me. And I made careful plans, and I eventualy escaped. Once again, I crossed the great ocean. I saw many sad things as a made my way back to the lands of my people. Once they realised who I was, the stories of my adventures angried them. They called me a liar. Xamichee, he who talks loud say nothing. They ridiculed me, my own people. And I was left to wonder the earth, alone. I’m Nobody.