Whitewater Gorge The Door of Death is made of Gold

“Thank you,” another smile rolled on her soft lips. She did good; she really did. “Nau- naut, nautchi,” silence, “Nautchi-ak.” Golden gaze turned to face her counterpart, “Nautchiak?” It was interesting, this language lesson. And, apparently, that herb was mint. No, no, nautchiak.
 
“I’m sorry for your loss,” and it hurt her too, deeply. Her mind drifted to her family; to her beautiful mother, her courageous father. It almost made her cry. She had mixed feelings about the whole situation; was it good, that she left? Should she have stayed? Would it have changed a thing? “Kikuyat.. I hope they have found peace.”
 
Agana glanced down with a giggle, “That’s alright,” I have been alone for long too. But she had been alone by choice, not by fate.