Lost Creek Hollow Dismayed I'm a later bloomer

The welling of tears in her gaze had shattered his heart.

Crowfeather did not want her to cry. He didn’t want to make her feel that she had caused them trouble. Silvertongue had been the smarter of the two – she had jumped to action, to protect what they cared about. The hollow was their home and he had stood idly by, attempting conversation with a stranger who had entered their land.

What’s that one mean? he asked her quietly. Crowfeather was certain he had not heard the word mariposa yet. She shared a good deal of her language with him, though.