Moonsong Glacier be the moth to my flame

sulukinak followed her movements. she became like a true shadow. the girl could read the way the stranger moved, the expression she tried to hide, the malaise.

who was she? this was a question sulukinak was not prepared to ask. why was she here? that one was easier - she was hungry for dutch; the same way the mountain woman was hungry for him.

the same way the hungry men had come for her own mother.

this time sulukinak had control over who could come and go. she flashed her teeth and stomped before the woman, bristling, although she did not look the part of a warrior for how tall and sinuous she was.

her tail was up and writhing.

the look on her own face implored the stranger to speak, or to leave. what made her worthy of morningsong? of her man?