Ocean's Breath Plateau She dreams a champagne dream

Chakliux had been the one to find her that day, but @Tullik was the one who had brought Marina true comfort. Her attachment to the woman grew swiftly and fiercely. In her grief and exhaustion she did not question it nor fight it. When she was taken by sudden fits of panic, when she woke gasping in the night, when the faintest hint of stars speckling the evening sky brought tears to her eyes, Tullik was always there, always patient. It was through her support that Marina began to come back to herself slowly, in fragmented bits and pieces.

Do you enjoy living here? By the sea? The question slipped from her thoughtlessly one morning. Marina had been thinking about how Tullik had come from Moonspear, how she'd spoken of the mountains; wondering if she ever missed it there. Her eyes found the woman after a moment, filled with affection and curiosity. Was it weird to have a thing for your husband's wife? Was that what this was? Marina, who was still too worn by her ordeal to linger on it, immediately discarded the notion.

They moved as the moon and stars did, together as a unit. Tullik did not mind this. The  lodge was less empty with two wives to fill it.

Yes. It is peaceful in a way mountains are not. She worked a piece of fish skin now, scraping a rock over its surface to ensure the scales no longer posed an issue. She sat the rock to the side.

In the mountains, it was quiet. So quiet you could hear every breath you took. Many of our hunters were lost to it, the isolation took just as many as the weather. Here..that is not a worry.

She'd been watching Tullik work, always watching and learning the ways of the little family she'd been taken into. Her marriage to Chakliux had given her more than a husband; it had given her a new way of life, and each day Marina committed herself to learning its intricacies. She was equally attentive to the words Tullik offered now.

And she felt that she could imagine it, that deafening silence. That night came to her again, and with a small shudder she pushed the memories aside. I imagine it takes a certain strength to live that way, Marina murmured, admiration glimmering behind teal eyes. I grew up traveling with my mother. On quiet nights like that, we would sing until sleep found us. It didn't happen often. But she treasured the memories even now. She'd loved her mother; almost as much as she'd hated her. It was funny, Marina thought, how none of that really mattered now that she was gone.