Moonsong Glacier sikingilak

He did not trust the flower, she nodded softly, understanding.

At one point she had not trusted it either. Too frazzled with nerves, too worried of what the world would be like when she had taken it. Mother had guided her then, now she must guide him. Reassure him and soothe him fully.

It is tradition. My mother has passed it on to me.

Her mother would not guide her down a path she was not fit for.

The plant will show me the things I must see, the plant is a connection to my spirits. Her ancestors! She must look for grey uncle upon this place and her bones softly ached with the knowledge.

Give me your worries.

She beckoned him closer once more. Prepared to press her forehead along his own, closing her eyes tightly.

I will bury your worries when I walk among spirits and waking dreams.