Marisol Puga’s Reviews > Never Whistle at Night: An Indigenous Dark Fiction Anthology > Status Update

“She opens her hand, blows the powdered medicine between them. It jerks back, stumbling. Some of the powder lands on the man’s clothes and burns through the cloth, searing the skin beneath. “What are you doing?” it snarls. “Fighting you,” she answers, grinning.”
Hunger is the Native American Buffy we deserved

“This was it, how we all ended. Defeated by their brutality, and a world that would choose them and forget about us.”
6% in and I am enraged by how true this statement is.