Deepwood Weald [m] red flax

"i am not insulted," chakliux insisted, trying for a jest as well. jerking his chin, he moved back toward moontide, opposite the way simbelmyne had gone. she needed her time. the scent of cen and sulukinak lingered here, then cut away from both villages.
the seal hunter frowned, and then he said, "no caribou man can ever insult me. they are not home long enough to please their wives," and his teeth glittered with a grin that was not unlike that of a shark.
then he sobered and sighed, and nudged dutch's shoulder with his scarred muzzle. "she is not sunshine. she is not seal, your simbelmyne. and you are a seal hunter to me, mikiak. but that was before her. what does she understand of all this?"
he looked into the eyes of the panther. "go to her. listen. do not speak to — do not try to fix things, not until you have listened. see why she is upset. this is hard to see. her home was secure, and maybe now she feels it is not. and, dutch, if she is with child, she will be ah, more sensitive. but never say this to a woman, yes?"
even now the berrybright eyes flicked beyond the muscular shoulder of his favorite man, as if the beautiful and angered face of simbelmyne might appear.