In the heart of North Carolina, the Lumbee River flowed through a dense forest. Its waters were clear and calm, reflecting the trees that grew on either side. It was on this river that an old Native American man, named Grey Wolf, was drifting down on his canoe.

Grey Wolf had spent his entire life on the river, learning its secrets and understanding its rhythms. He knew when the fish were biting and where to find them, which bends to take and which rocks to avoid. He had hunted in the forest, gathered berries, and fished in the river to survive.

As he drifted down the river, he thought about his ancestors and the legends they had passed down. He remembered the stories of the Lumbee people, how they had struggled to maintain their traditions and culture in the face of colonization.

Grey Wolf knew that he was one of the last few Lumbee elders who still spoke his native tongue fluently. He felt a sense of responsibility to preserve the language and the stories that had been passed down to him. He was worried that the next generation would forget their roots and lose touch with their heritage.

As he floated down the river, Grey Wolf looked up at the sky and saw the stars starting to twinkle. The moon was rising, and he knew that he would soon have to find a place to camp for the night. At this point he gave thanks to Creator.

He looked around and spotted a small clearing on the riverbank, just big enough for his tent. Grey Wolf paddled his canoe towards the shore and beached it on the sand. He got out and stretched his legs, then started to set up his tent. As he worked, he sang a song in his native language, a song that his mother had taught him when he was a small boy.

As the night fell, Grey Wolf lit a fire and sat down beside it, watching the flames dance. He sipped some tea and looked up at the stars, thinking about his life and the river that had sustained him. He knew that he was getting old and that his time on this earth was coming to an end, but he was not afraid.

Grey Wolf knew that his spirit would live on in the river and the forest, and that his ancestors would guide him to the other side. He closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air, feeling at peace with the world.

As the night wore on, Grey Wolf drifted off to sleep, lulled by the gentle sound of the river flowing by. He dreamed of his ancestors, of the stories they had told him, and of the Lumbee people living in harmony with nature. He knew that his legacy would live on, that his children and grandchildren would carry on the traditions and honor the ancestors who had come before.