Hoshor Plains ommatophoca

when he spoke of his family there was a familiar brightness, then a dimming. he spoke of fire and sulukinak did not know what that was, except that it must have been a terrible thing to drive apart any conclave; and to hear that he was now alone also thrummed with an intimate sort of familiarity to sulukinak.

except she knew she was not. she had her brothers, somewhere. she had to trust that they would find her one day — and she had moonsong, even if that was still new and untested.

she is quiet. she does not know what to say, or that there might be a window during which she should say anything at all, or maybe it would be rude to do so. sulukinak doesn't know that her forthright words are not always the kindest thing - and for now she is quiet in an unnerving way because she doesn't think there is much to speak of now.

then, there are many people here, she says. it is a subject they'd already broached, but this time she has intent. maybe one of them will take you home? you can pick a good one.