Moonspear kinigaa ∫

a surprised shift of her ears. keres was also a mother? it was not that kukutux found such things improbable in the greyscale woman. it was only that she had made no announcement of it, and seemed to be finished. this was foreign to the duck, who had been reared between endless births; always an aunt bore a child or two still nursing, children born at the end of the spring or into the brief warmth of summer. always there was another pup to call cousin.

but she could not hold moonspear to that. it was different here, and always had been so. "yes. you are my ... ukuaga," she offered sheepishly. "it means you are also sister to my husband. there is no word for two over." a soft laugh. a flick of her tail, and she began to nose the leaves onto the leather-side of the fox fur. "we are all family upon the mountain. a clan. our own village."