Silvertip Mountain breaker of trees

Fjall wilted slightly at her answer. Of course, she deserved her original home. But if that was not possible, then what could he possibly do to comfort or support her? She seemed keen on refusing his help, but she had also opened up to him – a credit to his character, some might say, though he thought it had more to do with the fact that she was intensely lonely and sad. And how could she not be? Especially with the father of her unborn children murdered. It occurred to him that this must have been a very recent event, happening sometime between conception and now.

He marveled inwardly at how strong she must be to stand here, if not for her own sake, then for her coming litter. He also felt guilty for malingering on his own woes when it could, in fact, be so much worse. He’d lost plenty in his life, but he’d never lost practically everything.

He looked at her sympathetically. I wish I knew a place for you, Kusuma, and he wanted to be honest, but I don’t know a place in this area that is not near my kind. He swallowed thickly, trying to think, but she’d asked him another question. M-My heart? He glanced instinctively in the direction of the glacier. I belong in a village of the moonpeople, he said without conviction. Was that where his heart actually was? My mother is gone, too, he told her. And my father. But I still have family here. We are of the moonpeople. They are all I have. He fell quiet for a moment, then asked:

What was your home like?