Moonspear You are the only mother I have ever known

The starwoman welcomed him in, pulling a soft skin over him as he curled up to sleep. Not long after, Towhee arrived (job well done, Sixsix). Sialuk desperately wanted to tell Towhee about her daughter's visit, but the woman was already snoring by the time Sialuk opened her mouth. It could wait.

While the two of them slept, Sialuk went to the bones, taking the small pouch to her regular reading spot and hoping to gain clarity and perhaps a plan for the predicament Rolayne had put both her and Towhee in. The motions were ones she had practiced hundreds, perhaps thousands of times now, and they came to her easily.

The first that appeared was one that must have represented herself in this situation. It was a bone that she often read as herself or another kind healer woman, such as anaa or Seal. The second, she thought, was portraying Rolayne's inability to let go of her, of the spear, of what he had come to know as his. The last, and perhaps most important bone that stood out to her was that which would push back if she pushed hard on him. No, she would use a soft hand, as indicated by the first bone, to show him that she could both stay here, he go home, and they could find peace in this arrangement. After, she sat outside the ulaq, meditating on the message and putting together words to ease Rolayne's troubled spirit.

He emerged in time, and she patted the ground next to her when he spoke.

You came a long way from the saltwater, she said. But did you not ask for help?

It was true that Towhee had tailed him, but the Redhawk's message had made it sound as though this was not a journey that had been planned.