Big Salmon Lake la vie en rose

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Her gentle shuddering soon subsided, guided to calmness by the tenderness of Wests’ cosseting.  The women’s voice also soothed her, and perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but the pearl soon felt her eyes began heavy and eventually close, shielding tired eyes from the horrors of the world and the dreadful nothingness that her life was. She was nothing to him, and who was the dark silouhette but a representation of all the wolves in her life, even the ones she had yet to meet?
 
But as sleep took over her ragged soul, Kitsch couldn’t help but hope that – maybe – she meant something to the woman, West, who stood watch over her.

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