Arrow Lake graue himmel

movement within, and then blodreina spoke. ducking his head, mahler entered as far as space and his large body would allow, depositing his wares in the corner. as eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, he could make out her form and the tiny body of a single child curled against her, a female from the scent. 
the shelter held the fragrance of blood, milk, and birth; he could detect no illness in it, nor the sharp tang of a cut vein that sometimes followed new mothers in a dire way directly after delivery. "vas the birth a great strain upon you?" the man inquired, nosing through the folded pelt for a strip of fat-rich beaver tail, and reaching to lay this near the mother.
"for your milk," he explained, a small smile arching momentarily across his face as he turned his lavender eyes upon the child, silently assessing her.