Moonsong Glacier One must have a mind of winter

The chief's smile warmed. He stole a glance at her, laughter in his eyes. "Just Dutch is fine, Eira," he assured her, although he was pleased to have been addressed as such.

She was small. This was his main hang-up. Small women made small sons and daughters. But her temperament pleased him, even if it wasn't what he looked for in a woman for himself.

"There is a man here called Fallen Sun," he said to her. "Strong of heart and kind in spirit. He is a strong hunter. A protector. A provider."

He watched her face — did she understand how precious a creature that could be?

"He does not speak the common tongue, nor any other that is known to me," he said to her. "But love can be a quiet thing, can it not? And he is a man very deserving of it. I would like you to seek him out with these things in your mind."

He leveled a long look at the young woman. Was she willing?

"If he does not please you, then you may still remain among us. Your worth as a leather worker is of much value. And it is my wish to see him happy — and he will not be happy if his wife is not happy to be with him."