Moonspear And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains

"i like her. she is very polite, as you are also." in many ways despite his youth, bronco outset her in ways of physical power. but he was a youth still, and though she was yet unused to having a first-year hunter at her hearth, kukutux was growing accustomed to his gentle manner.

why had he and his sister come to moonspear? perhaps it was simply their inner urgings, though the duck remained surprised that girls within the teekon were allowed to roam so far. sialuk, kukutux decided, would not do so, and her mind set about weaving together the grass strings of her daughter's future.

jadestone eyes flicked to bronco a moment as he recalled what she had said of the skin, and lashes veiled her eyes in the next moment. in a bid for time kukutux softened into the submissive mien she was to wear around males. even young warriors. 

bronco had spoken of a trade, and at length the snowbird gave a little nod, raising up her gaze again. "if it is something you wish to know, i will tea — give you help," she amended. men taught the boys; her lot was to rear sialuk properly. "an island, yes. beside a great dark saltwater with sea-ice we walked upon to hunt."

a cold place. a frigid place. a painful place to remember. "i say it is women's work because it is a task for us. we say, 'he brings me the fur, i give him a use for it.'" a moment's rueful pondering, and then she was upon her paws again. "come. we will go to the stream and i will give you medicine there." as she lifted her sachet of bark and began to step back along the path, she thought of how bronco had jumped, only to be soothed by the food she offered, and an amused smile wreathed her lips.