Swiftcurrent Creek Reflektor

Tuwawi couldn't know the hesitation stewing in her husband's mind, only the quiet contemplation as he laid with stilted breath while she spoke. Perhaps the depths of her thoughts weren't as far reaching as Njal's — he always remained as the much wiser half of their partnership. A drop of worry rippled in her conscious when his expression became numb, but he soon recovered at her touch, when a genial smile creased his worried features. Tuwawi reflected this grin, and listened to his words rapt with attention.

At first, he seemed to steer away from the notion of offspring, and for a moment Tuwawi doubted if she had been correct in deducting what he had asked earlier. If this was the case, a hefty dose of embarrassment would ensue... However, the Russian was quick to rephrase his sentences, mindful of his words. "Our children would make Swiftcurrent strong," he told her as he planted a kiss on her curved cheeckbone. "I want our family to be strong and good. Children with your fire, children of mountains and glaciers." Tuwawi could barely contain herself as her imagination ran wild. Already the dream was real — so close within their grasp... fertile as a star-field. Now, they were on the same page. Desiring what each other wanted. "Imagine that, Proudheart. Our sons racing across the plains like sveijarn-- burning stars." "—and daughters," she added, not forgetting the thought of baby girls with their father's quicksilver hair.

A word he uttered caught a sparkle in her eye. "Sveijarn?" she parroted. The word sounded familiar and foreign at the same time... lost to Tuwawi — buried beneath years of other memories. Momentarily, she became engrossed with it, "Is that a word from your homeland? Sounds so... hmm... I remember it. Sveijarn," she said again, toying with the word on her lips. "Burning stars," she laughed, finding it both inspiring and somewhat iconic. One couldn't catch a falling star. "Suits us well... don't you think?"