Moonspear kunnajak ⋠

so many words held in the fishing basket of one's heart. kukutux knew well the ache; her mind traveled in saddening toward arcturus, but she kept it from creeping to inspire the name of the brother who had died. the duck dared not speak his title, of all the ones she now carried, for none had died in such anger as the trader had gone.

chilled through with a fearful melancholy, the duck forced herself to focus upon what the other was saying. opalia, something gemstone like the polished glass stones of the cold shoreline. and she had known the others. the duck bit her lip, and then spoke the first words unthinking and ungarish: "is it hard to be here now?"