Deepwood Weald arctocephalus

She found approval in his tone, and shared a sense of kinship with him as he spoke fondly of this place. Had he been born to the cold and the dark? Sulukinak could have asked, but chose instead to be silent and accept that everyone came from there.

When Dutch spoke of caves and starlight her voice parried, I used to be afraid. Of the stars, I mean... I thought they were many eyes watching. Dutch turned no more and Sulukinak watched the back of his head, and the way his muscles flexed as he moved across the snow.

Mother told me stories that helped. She spoke of this as a child might, rather than a woman grown.