He comes. The skinwalker, the shapeshifter. Our tribe can see him, the skin of Coyote about his shoulders.
He comes. Yee naaldlooshii, he goes on all fours. Our wives hear him cry, the voices of our loved ones in his throat.
He comes. User of cursed objects, follower of Frenzy Way. Our children hide from him, his terrible charms to escape.
He comes. The witch, killer of his own kin. Our braves will meet him, bullets of white ash to piece his skin.
He flees. The wounded one, danger to all Navajo. Our people will hunt him, a single wound to reveal the witch.