Broken Boulder i hope you devour

Praimfaya sounded assured in their success, one way or another, and Kigipigak did not know if that was her own ego coming in to view or some form of trust and loyalty to Mahler; it was not so different from how Kigipigak had felt for Stjornuati and the Stormskyli wolves. He thought of them suddenly, fondly, and as their faces flashed through his mind he thought of Valmua and quickly shuttered himself against further contemplation.

The woman spoke of her history in brief. A warrior mother — this wanlida, a word he had never heard before — although the way Praimfaya spoke of the woman and the meaning behind everything, Kigipigak could find similarities there too. She was what my people would call issumatar; a strong woman in control of her own fate. There is a twitch to the woman's face, as if she is trying to stop the veneer masking her expression from melting.

We have much in common. My mother was issumatar to my home tribe, which themselves were warriors. Tell me - have you any great exploits? A good story warms the spirit. In truth, Kigipigak wants to expound his own legend, see if he can impress this woman with his own history. Perhaps she has stories to share of her own, though.