Moonsong Glacier The spruces rough in the distant glitter

she is skippable!

The common place had become a particular haunt of the raven woman for two reasons. Not wanting to build her iglu in the caves for the homesickness they brought, she had taken to scouting a suitable sleeping place in the sparse trees nearby the ice river; the sound of water different but familiar enough to the sea that it comforted her at night. 

The second reason was a little more shameful. Keen to speak to other but not quire sure how to go about it, today Ulloriaq set herself the mindless task of pruning the nearby caches as she waited for someone to pass by.

It just so happened that a woman drew near, her back laden with furs. Eira, was that her name? Shaking her pelt of any lingering anxiety, she set her task to one side and was about to approach and help her carry the load when another beat her to it.

Crestfallen, Ulloriaq busied herself with picking at the furs of a spoiled badger, eyes glued to the two women as the conversation rose without her.