Nimbus Summit You will be less than a grain of salt but more than an ounce of gold

Imaq nodded, giving him a rueful shake of her head in response to Rye's -- cured -- hubris. "Badger strong totem. Fierce." Her gaze wandered to Siku as he ate, wondering what totem the spirits might gift their son in time. 

At her husband's words, Imaq rose with a concerned expression etched into the furrow of her brow and the tug of her lips, though she tried to smile reassuringly at Yuku as the duo slipped out into the corridor. The shepherd accepted the woodlander's aid with ease, comfortable enough to let her guard down around the he-wolf she'd come to call her own. She managed well enough despite her limp but it was painful and quite exhausting to train her body to move with a new gait. When Rye sat, Imaq settled against him with a small sigh of relief. 

But such a peaceful emotion was not to last for long. 

It was quite a bit to process, and it was harder to shape her response but the she-dog struggled to get the words out appropriately. "Why mad? What Rye do?" she murmured anxiously, head tilting back so that her aquamarines peered up at him fearfully. It was not fear of the man that filled her with such dread, but rather fear of the matter he spoke of. 

"Home for village? Or home for Rye?" the words were but a lilting wisp as she fought to keep her emotions at bay. It had not occurred to Imaq that Rye spoke of relocating their family but rather that he intended to go into hiding until whatever this conflict was had blown over. The news would come as a harsh blow. Atautsikut had come to mean much to the mother. She had been with Wintersbane from the beginning and though Selkie had lost her way, @Lane and many of the other villagers were family. Imaq had just begun to feel like part of the community again, had begun to plan to make herself mesh with the other tundrians and find a place she truly belonged. Even if such could not be said about her just yet, she had already begun to think of the Summit as home. The medicine woman had no desire to leave their people. 

And yet, she would not be separated from her husband. She could not bear that thought -- even now, without knowing the extent of the Hotah's plans. They had only just found each other again. 

Her train of thought was making it nearly impossible to keep the overwhelming despair at bay, just as the expression on Rye's face was. Before the dam could break and Imaq could burst into tears like a cub, she buried herself against the he-wolf's earthen side -- burrowing deeper against him as if the pressure of embracing him could keep them safely together and prevent her from falling apart on the inside. 

"Rye come back? Home?" the murmur was muffled and broken against her husband, strained with the repressed things the merle refused to let out.