The dove found herself restless, eager to be of more contribution now that her wounds had healed. There were a number of pelts that needed curing, those she had cut from carrion that had not been torn apart overtly or from her own kills. She had thoughts that they might make good gifts for @Kukutux or @Shikoba, or perhaps she would offer one to the newer members that she'd had yet to meet such as @Towhee. 

Lótë gathered as many of the stiff hides as she could in her jaws, grinning around them as she trotted through the village -- certain she made for an odd picture with a mouthful of fur. Her jaunty gait led her to the lake in the valleys of the Spine, where she was quick to pile her furs upon a slab of stone along the banks. 

Taking the first of the pelts, the herd-stalker dipped the skin into the water to soften and clean it -- humming softly beneath her breath as she worked, the sound muffled by the fibers pressed against her muzzle. 

"A fair bit, just purging the den of the sick smell," Lótë agreed with a slight crinkle of her nose, peridots flashing down to glance at the pelts in question. The herbalist couldn't wait to rid her home of the bitter scent. Her gaze returned to Aiolos' with interest as he answered, not as familiar with the difficult form of aquatic hunting.

"I see. There were streams and rivers in my homeland but I had not seen the sea until I arrived here," Lótë admitted, tension winding beneath her chest bone. She so rarely spoke of her birthplace that she had forgotten the ever careful sensation of not revealing too much. "Your trade is different though, yes? What was your chosen skill if not fishing?" 

"I hadn't," the dove admitted with a chagrined smile as sunman offered her the fish. "Thank you." The cloudberry stretched out and tucked into the fatty meat of the brim, content to break from her task for a time in order to eat and converse with the red he-wolf. 

Lótë nodded, her mouth being full of fish and finding that this seemed fitting for the burnished copper-pelted man. She had always known Aiolos to be gentle and seldom-spoken, much like first wife. But second wife imagine that he could be riled to quite a fury, much as Kukutux could -- they were a match that complemented each other well, sunlight and moonbeam. 

"You say you were made to learn...would you have chosen something else if given the chance?" The cloudberry painter asked this once she had swallowed and licked her chops clean, hesitancy clear in her tones and the way her ears dipped back nervously. Perhaps it was a personal question. 

"It sounds very different from Moonglow. I imagine it was a strange adjustment for you." Maybe Lótë was wrong, maybe the Spine had proven to be a peaceful change of pace as the islander aged. 

Lótë's lashes fluttered in a surprised blink, not having known that Aiolos had once been a slave. "I understand." She did, better than he knew. The title of slave was never something she'd claimed but the dove knew what it was to be held hostage. And she too seemed to have followed the path intended for her, that of her foremothers, despite taking a new identity and fleeing the Land of Many Elms. 

"Perhaps that is why you're so well suited for them. Because you didn't ask for it." This was only soft musing aloud, Lótë didn't have the answers for either of them. "It often seems to be the way of things."

"I think you are," Lótë murmured reassuringly with a small smile, for she found all of these qualities in her brother. Another moment passed and the duo fell into amicable silence, that which was only broken by the crunch of small bones and soft sounds of two wolves eating a meal in the company of one another.