Gyrfalcon's Keep red hill

Rusalka summoned his wife. A queen. And she appeared almost in the image of his mother. She was a tall, strong-looking lady with mousey furs and eyes nearly the color of his own.

The two adults shared a glance he could not parse.

Granite slowly gulped one more bite of sinew. Fatigue prevented his mind from thinking too deeply.

Words of praise stroked the child’s diminutive ego.

“Granite,” he offered simply. Shyly. The boy finally set down the bone he had gnawed clean. His big eyes shifted between Rusalka and his wife, empty of any further factoids or context to provide the Fellians.