the weald was immense.
no matter where she turned, there were new sights; not different sights exactly (it was all forest and so dense she could not always make-out what was there), but more and more and more, the way the everdark seemed to go on endlessly white and cold—this place was green shadow.
she wanted to explore all of it. she needed to know all of its secrets.
The brief visit to Moonglow had brought with it its own troubles — but Dutch still felt revitalized as he returned to their new forest home. He could smell game all around him, though he did not yet make any efforts to find it. Instead, he was tracking down Sulukinak. This place was entirely too easy to hide in, he thought, and so he needed to rest his eyes on her once more to reassure himself that she could be found.
"Shadow girl," he said, relief apparent in his tone despite his best efforts. He bounded closer, closing the distance between them to pace alongside her. "Is it a good place?" he asked her, knowing from the scents on her pelt that she'd spent much of their time apart in this place.
she almost ignored him when he called.
there was a nest of some sort high in a tree, and if she angled herself she could spy on it; but only until she lost balance, which was not long.
something up there moved; she fell, but landed well, and looked to see dutch, a bit startled to have been found.
the nest forgotten, she wove to him and moved alongside in the manner of a cat—bonking him with her forehead.
beyond that, she had no words but the energy she gave off was far more open than before, upon the glacier.
The panther was happy to receive affection but elated to see the girl in — seemingly — higher spirits. He made a brief nuisance of himself, rubbing his cheek into her fur to renew his scent.
He carried other scents with him, now. Valiant's, and Minnow's, too. He'd left the pair of them in the meadow before setting off to be sure that Sulukinak was still around. He was eager to see Simbelmyne as well, but less concerned that she would not be where he'd left her.
"I think we will do very well here," he said as if agreeing with her, trotting toward the tree she'd been examining. He was interested in whatever she'd been up to, but he had other thoughts on his mind as well "You were right, I think. I invited too many strangers to share our lives."
None of them had stayed, and Dutch found himself feeling glad for it, strangely enough.
"I thought we might keep it just the four of us, until children come — but my cousin has asked me to take in his sister. So we will be five instead."
He stole a little glance at the girl, worried that this might displease her.
he spoke of others; of family he knew, and of the future, in a way that showed his new-found hope.
sulukinak thought about what it might mean, bringing children here to these woods. it was far from the sea ice, far from the dark reach of terrible gods.
sedna could not reach them here.
valiant.
she remembered his name, and upon speaking it she looked to her dutch man in case she was wrong. he had a sister? sulukinak wondered what she was like.
is she a mother?
she refused to see the obvious: that dutch and his woman were expecting, or would be. she chose to see this sister as the reason for the topic.
Dutch bobbed his head in confirmation, only a little surprised that she remembered the name.
"Soon," he agreed, chalking the guess up to the scent he carried on his pelt. "Her name is Minnow. The babes will come any day, now. Valiant, too — his wife is with child. He's very pleased."
And Dutch was pleased for him, and blissfully happy with his own circumstances. He was even excited about Minnow's brood — how could he not be? Without the father around, he would be the nearest thing to it. Which meant he would likely get to meet them sooner than he would have otherwise. He would have to act as a spiritual father to them in his stead. What had Slow West called that relationship? Padrino, he thought. Nino.
He shrugged such thoughts away. There was no need to daydream when the reality of it would soon be upon them.
"What were you looking at?" he asked her, pointing his nose back up to the boughs of the tree.
minnow.
sulukinak wondered what the mother would do when her cubs came. there was no shaman, there was no ice, so they would be safe. sulukinak would make sure the dark grip of sedna did not reach them.
valiant expected cubs too.
it seemed everyone had been seeded, and now they waited for the time of sprouting. did they have a dark harvest here? sulukinak worried briefly about this, but dutch was distracted and soon called out to her, and the girl looked up again.
a nest. there was something up there, but... i cannot reach. it might be gone now.
cued with her doubt, there came the piercing shriek of a hawk hidden among the canopy and sulukinak flinched.
or not.
The panther did not flinch, but his dark ears pinged to the top of his head at the sudden sound. His tail wheeled in idle curiosity, but his interest in the bird only extended as far as Sulukinak's interest in it; namely, he wondered why she'd been trying to get a better look.
"Will you befriend it?" he asked, intrigued by the idea. "Like silenthunter? A medicine man told me that he knew a wolf with a fox companion. It is strange to think about."
But he thought that Sulukinak could do with a friend. With one that did not talk as much as he did, perhaps.
she could not imagine having an animal companion. her head shook.
i was hunting.
the nest had been hard to see and she had been curious about what might live inside of it, but that mystery was solved now.
the hawk held no interest to her, neither did the nest now. she hopped to another fist of roots and then on to a mossy log, and when she reached the end of it she sat there, grooming some sap from her toes.
the thoughts of earlier bubbled to her surface; sulukinak was not known to hold back, and so she asks pointedly:
how do you harvest? when it is time. without the sea.
she didn't look up from her grooming, simply shifted to another paw and tugged at the patches there.
He felt a very brief flicker of disappointment, at this. He wanted to see Sulukinak with friends, even if they were of the lesser variety. But hunting was a respectable way to spend one's time, and he easily forgot the nest to sniff around Sulukinak's perch. There were grubs inside — he could smell them, but he did not think they would be worth trying to reach. He scratched experimentally at the soft, decaying bark anyway.
"Harvest?" he repeated, feeling an odd little chill in the pit of his stomach. He thought she must be talking about birds, who lived so high up in nests — but something about her phrasing was strange. "Harvest what?" he asked her, his head cocked to the side.
he didn't know? well, he was a man, so perhaps her mother had been right that the harvest was a women's secret.
still, she wanted to be sure she did it right, here. it was the only way to keep the cubs safe.
her expression was owlish as she watched him probe at the log, and she blinked at him, innocent enough.
to keep sedna away.
did he really not know? the sea is far from here, so we cannot offer them to her for an early harvest. but, there is time.
the look on his face was one of confusion. the cubs. she will want them.
before they turned one year old, that's what her mother said. they would have so many for sedna to choose from—sulukinak yawned and her teeth shined beneath the vague glow that emanated through the weald.
The panther felt as if he'd swallowed a lump of ice, chilled to the core not just by his shadow girl's words, but by the almost casual tone she spoke them in. His expression remained impassive, but he was quiet for a long moment while an unusual swell of malevolence swept through him. For a moment, he thought he might hate Sulukinak's mother. He wanted her to answer for the things that she'd taught Sulukinak and the way in which she'd damaged her, and most especially for the innocent lives she'd surely ended. In the next moment a terrible guilt gripped him; he was sure that it was no sane and properly cared for mind that had thought to murder her own children.
"Sedna cannot have them," he said, speaking when he was sure that his tone would be only resolute instead of vehement. "They will be ours, all of them." There was a pause, and then he clarified: "Mine." Because, suddenly, allowing Sulukinak any claim to the children was a harrowing thought.
Though he did a good job of hiding it, Dutch was frightened by this revelation. He was worried about what Sulukinak might do. So he made his tone even and waited to see if she would disagree.
he did not understand, and that was okay. he wasn't meant to. sulukinak sat through his silence, watching him when he did speak, and could not discern any issues with what she had said and what he might think; usually so perceptive, dutch did well to contain himself and betrayed nothing.
he claimed all of the cubs, which was an odd thing, a foolish thing. sulukinak shrugged her narrow shoulders but had nothing to say to that.
she leapt from the log and landed in the plush moss beneath, and her long body seemed to become a part of the greenshadow, with only her eyes delineating where she was; and she looked to dutch over her shoulder.
im hungry.
she swept away, dashing to another shadow and another, as soundless as she had been upon snow.
distracted again, she did not notice if dutch followed her or was left there in the green.
Dutch did stand there in her wake, his heart beating very fast. Her easy, silent acceptance was the same as it always was, but today, it was not enough.
"Sulukinak," he said, pacing after her. "Wait."
He wanted to look her in the eye. From a closer vantage, he would search for signs of dissent in her beloved face.
What would he do if he found them?
"Please promise me," he said to her, still calm but more serious, now. "Promise you will not offer any of them — to Sedna or anyone else. It is not done this way in my family. We have never practiced any harvest."
His chest hurt with every pulse of his heart. He held his breath to await her answer.
he called to her and she stopped, turned, and waited until he had come closer.
something about the way he deliberately watched her face was unsettling; it was a moment she hadn't expected from him, and she couldn't discern why she disliked it so much. her own eyes flit around at the dark a moment, but she settled to his serious tone.
we have never practiced any harvest.
it was her turn to look confused, perplexed; she did not hide it at all, as she never hid anything when she felt it.
something about the way he stared at her made sulukinak worried about what to say, so she held her tongue, except to half-heartedly say, okay.
was that enough? he wanted a promise but she wasn't sure she could give it. her ears went back, and she seemed to shrink.
Okay.
It was not enough. He drew in a long breath to stave off hurt and anger and panic. He was thinking, miserably, that she could not stay. If he wasn't sure, then he could not allow her anywhere near the children. Even if he was very careful, even if he spent their whole childhood watching them like a hawk — he just couldn't take the chance.
But he loved her. He loved her just as much as he loved the idea of his future children. Moreso, perhaps. And he could not stomach the idea of chasing her away.
"Okay," he repeated, letting the breath out in an uncertain sigh. He offered her a wan smile. "I want you to come with me, the next time I visit Moonglow," he said to her. His gaze was no longer so intent, but he still searched her face for confirmation. "We will speak to Kukutux about this. She will share her wisdom with us. She has raised many children and grandchildren, and she will know what is best."
He did not know the purpose of this harvest — and he was afraid to ask — but he thought he could well enough guess. Sulukinak feared this Sedna. Kukutux would know how to ease these fears. Then, they would all be safe.
"Okay?" he asked, offering a tentative wag of his tail.
he wanted to see the shaman? immediately the girl's fur puffed and she became straight-backed, surprised that he would want this. the woman had been kind the few times she had encountered her—but sulukinak did not know why she would be needed now.
was he thinking of completing what her mother had attempted? perhaps he thought to offer sulukinak in place of another harvest. he would need a shaman for that.
her eyes became glossy, although the darkness of the weald might have hidden that aspect of hurt upon her face.
yes,
she agreed, if for no other reason the urge to people-please and be made safe again. to—moonglow.
she dared not move now. but as she looked in to the weald she could hide her damp expression, and asked, i can go eat now?
let me go.
He felt bad for making her unhappy, even though there was a part of him that wanted to be angry with her. It turned inward, and he was angry at himself if for no other reason than his inability to see this coming, to somehow fix it before this conversation ever even happened.
"She will know another way," he assured her, but he could see that she wanted to be anywhere but in his presence.
Perhaps he had hurt her feelings. (He thought then, petulantly, that the feeling was mutual.)
"Yes," he agreed, taking a step back to release her as if he had somehow been pinning her in place. "I must help Minnow find a good den. But can I hunt with you tomorrow?"
another way? there was no other way. if there had been her mother would have known it, trusted it, done that way instead of what she had tried to do to her, and her brothers.
another way.
sulukinak felt a ripple in her usual calm. a ringing in her ears that drowned out what her dutch man was saying. he said something about the woman minnow and a hunt, but sulukinak wasn't listening.
she was moving before he could ask about tomorrow, lost in the dark by the time the question emerged; and there would be no answer except the sigh of the trees as sulukinak vanished among them.
The panther watched her disappear, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and the marrow of his bones.
The clock was ticking.