Shadewood ipiktusuktuk ✺

ears wilted and her face turned away, downcast, with the gravity of what morgan had shared. "you will see them again at the dancing lights," kukutux said softly. what a horrid thing! to lose not only one's children, but a mate in childbirth as well. such things were not unheard of among her people, but more often if a mother passed, her pups would live to be suckled by another, raised at that hearth as children of that lodge.

fighting the urge to cast a glance over her shoulder for cry, reassured that he would not come after them against what morgan had said, kukutux cleared the cream-slim column of her throat. "cry met me far away from here, and took me back to keep. he knew i was searching for a husband; he knew he could not be that, for he rejected my offer to become his second wife."

why she was telling all of this to the russet man she did not know, but somehow the weight upon her heart seemed less, seemed more bearable. "after that, he grew very possessive. in some way, i loved him. but in another, i felt as though i was only his token, an object to hold. he could never be what i wished, nor i to him, but still i belonged to him." had he not said as much upon her departure?