Verdigris Ravine and the rest hope for a shoulder

qiao learned from s’ari that this man did not speak. his grunts conveyed a language beyond her tongue.

it bothered her little, as she had experience in reading the hidden language between signs.

zoug thumped his merlot-stained chest, signaling to the sulking outlands beyond. qiao measured the glimmering distance in thought.

she pulled her totems close and cast them anew, studying their orientation against the starmap in her mind’s eye. this place is safe, for now. again comes the hen, and this time — ah. qiao frowned at the lone rib, its head turned in the direction of zoug’s gesture. the to’lang speak of a journey.