Silver Moraine XVII

There were not words for what he felt.

The thrum and rush of his blood in his ears was enough. And here came a pale woman. The build of a hunter, but if this was merely an evaluation for hunting, he imagined they would not be out here. Away from the Rise.

Away from all.

Did Augur intend her as a wife?

Why did his heart stir so suddenly with an angry well of envy. Of jealousy. Of hateful things towards himself. That was not why he had been pulled here.

The woman shrank, a small figure beneath the hulking men of the Rise. He did not shy from his gaze on her as if he might peel some sort of knowledge from just her looks. He wondered if she spoke at all, supposed there was only one way to find out.

Who are you to him?

If both of the wolves before him were mute and lacking in language, he supposed his question would mean little to everyone but himself.