Dear Public Pulse,
My name is Sun Cloud. My job is to predict the weather for my tribe. I think the weather will be absolutely terrible for those poor Indians. First, there will be a flood of tears. Then, a drought of emptiness. Finally, it will mist over and they will wander aimlessly with nowhere to go. So please Public Pulse, Pleae take pity on them! Take pity on them please!!!
Sun Cloud from the Omaha Tribe (Anne)