Northstar Vale itiktuk ❊

Undómiel attended the duck's recounting with listing eyes and hearkening ears; and all that she wished to comment upon instead took up mere settlement within her mind. It seems as though such bride-prices were not of moral value  (as she had so sought to promise her feathered friend)  but rather, of stock, of trade, of inventory. Business, then; inexperience inexperience inexperience; soulchased.

Ultimately:
"I would not wish to send you into an insecure realm, and so I must ... seek counsel before levying out such a descision."  Easthollow, Rusalka, she knew not; Kaistleoki, had the summerquake been their ruin? Uaine, she thinks not; Diaspora  –  bah! Irritance; for already a singular pack had leapt to the forefront of her mind; and already too had she chosen near-instinctive whose counsel to rely on;
he who knew too the truth of her last name, of this, and all that she had inadvertently left upon the avaricious clawfoot of southerly spire, ne'er to claim as her own again. Could not.

Perhaps, then, Kukutux might not be sold at all;
but be some gift of owed penance.

Wearied; suddenly weighted;
fluted ears flicker at the notion of once-wifehood, and for all that their cultures and customs may have lain upon very different foundations, Andraste cannot help but ask out of favor for something perchance more lighter—

"What is it like, to have a husband?"
To belong truly to someone?

Foolish, starlit girl.