Ouroboros Spine Listening for that angel choir

He explained many things, but did not have much joy in his tone. Nor did he speak of northern tongue.

I come from a mother, Sukari, and father Kesuk. They raised me as hunter, as it was the same for all women of my mother village. But he wanted mostly to know of her wants; her desires. 

Softly, she leaned a bit closer, nose pressing against his forearm as a small, contented laugh escaped her. Like you, I want husband. And to hear the puttering of children within our ulaq.

Now her eyes found his, searching. That itch to give in to her yearning lingered. But she couldn't push herself to do it. It felt wrong, while all at the same time, it felt right. This felt right. But was it really?