Deepwood Weald [m] red flax

The panther's lip curled tellingly at the implication of Chakliux's words. He believed that Cen's suspicion of him was a reflection of the caribou hunter's thoughts more than his own. That Cen would want Sulukinak as a second wife, or even something lesser. He took the seal hunter's words with a grain of salt — but the way that Cen had looked at Simbelmyne had not been indicative of any respect toward women. The way he'd come to collect Sulukinak like a pelt or a kill made Dutch want to race after him even now.

It was the seal hunter who held him back, even if that hadn't been his intent. The touch jarred him out of his thoughts, and he looked back at the man in quiet melancholy and rising worry. He took the advice in stride, seeing the seal hunter's wisdom and compassion in the words. But his mind circled back to a different point.

"Why should this change me?" he asked, his limited vocabulary slowing him. He gave Chakliux a moment to make corrections, but it was clear he had more to say: "Must a seal hunter have many wives?"

He had an inkling, now, of what might be bothering his wife.