Hoshor Plains Shor Tawakof

Tomahawk listened, ears pricked toward her Khal's voice as he spoke of the Dotharan. A pleasant chill ran down the length of her spine, and she felt at peace here. When he eluded to his disappointment in her, Tomahawk wanted to speak up, to tell him that she would make it up to him, to tell him she had gifts for him on the way, but she did not. Instead, she flattened her ears, cast her eyes downward, and clenched her jaw. When they came, he would know. She would keep her tryst with the coyote safe. It was the only way. Perhaps Lavakho would help to protect her during her pregnancy if she told no one.

It was then announced (with no surprise) that Vitihi would become his second half. A strange pang of jealousy swept through her then, but she dampened it. Why should she be jealous? There was nothing to be jealous of. Rakharo was a wolf, the Khal, and Tomahawk was his slave. The coyote relaxed herself, glanced to the new Khaleesi, and smiled. Because she was now bound (or would be bound) to Rakharo, that made her Tomahawk's secondary master. She was pleased.