Moonspear we just sell different parts of ourselves

kukutux nodded softly, though she did not think wintersbane so simple. his spirit held a dark shadow, but it was not malice she sensed in the cold warrior. it was pain. perhaps a good wife might brighten the clamshell edge of him, but the duck was not certain he would never carry such.

with a start kukutux realized it was her mother's voice, speaking through her heartstrings. a blink of her jadestone eyes; she looked away, veiling her expression with the sable fall of her lashes. time in moonspear had made her too bold, too forward, too direct. she must remember the proper way if she was to teach sialuk well.

not for love he wished to marry, but children. it was natural; the duck suspected a younger wife who wished children might be a better fit than the woman aiolos wished. the redsun. she must go to him, but how could she tell him of the departed she had meant to bring down toward the water? pain, pain; the winterwife put it aside. "you would trust me with this?"