Shadewood Drunk Nights are more fun than Sober Ones

it was better this way, the spirit whispered in a small voice. but kukutux felt she ached to have cry touch her, if not in a carnal sense, then one that would ease her starved body. "if you still wish to help me, you must set a bride-price. some number of furs and amount of meat, bones, feathers. whatever you believe i am worth."

her voice shook in the air, heavy with the unspoken weight of words between them, the expression that lurked in the depths of the shaman's gaze. how magnificent he was, even though he could not be hers, nor she his. but it was not worth the sundering that would come. "you will represent me, and he will give you the bride-price. only when he has done that will i be able to be claimed as wife."

finding a husband alone was not something kukutux wished to do, and though the thought of this man giving her to another pained the secret places of her heart, she would have him close, if only for that purpose. openly did her springjade eyes look upon him now, allowing herself to gaze at the details of his face for a sorrowful moment.