Silverlight Terrace viii. wash away the stained skin,

 

the dove floundered silently a moment. what could be said without souring this. without revealing too much. 

"i did not know kukutux's first husband. even so, i imagine that their son takes after his ataata." lótë's lips curled gently, affectionately. "but all i can see is kukutux when i look at him." 

cucuollë's pale gaze of spring growth cut to him, almost shyly. "it is a long story. complex. i am second wife to sunman." 

her head dipped, gaze falling to the path ahead. it was an honor, certainly. and there was great love in their marriage, but not the kind that kept one warm at night. 

"kukutux is my sister. my children are hers. and hers mine."

she wondered if it was still true. if her children even thought of her as a mother at all. 

"i am tuttuk-tutjak," lótë divulged something else, switching gears easily as the conversation moved away from personal topics. "herd-watcher. i could help you?"

the doe wasn't entirely sure she'd be welcomed back into the village with open arms. not as long as she was insistent on saving  helping saviguk. and sandulf was a friend. if his people needed help, then perhaps they'd be willing to accept a stranger into their midst for a few weeks to pad the caches.