Moonspear And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains

she was gathering mint this day, searching for the small pointed leaves. across her shoulders, a strip of palebrown fawn-skin, into which she intended to pack the leaves.

as she snaked down to the cut in the earth, kuktuux was reminded of the high stone walls where she had hunted with arcturus. a blink of her jadestone eyes; the duck willed the image away.

the woman might have continued were it not for the curious figure of a wolf she had not met. overladen with moonspear's scent, a strong young warrior in dark terra shades. 

offering the proper deference even a boy might command over a she-wolf, kukutux set down her leaves and offered him a gentle look, wondering if he wished company.