Totoka River [m] fire dancer

when would she learn that peace was never to last?
in the weeks since they parted from wilwarin and the dreamer man, red leaf's pregnancy progressed in secret. she ate ravenously and never seemingly had enough water to drink; she stopped often for breaks, excusing it by saying she must have pulled a muscle or sprained some part of her. and yet, it did not appease her husband.
he only grew more and more furious with her.
when he had struck her, she found herself staring at the amulet woven in his grainy fur, the angry red stain upon hair that once was attached to her body. she thinks of the spirits and their glowing eyes, sees them in her dreams that night; he owns you. do as he says.
she also wonders how careless he must be to not notice the increasingly visible swell of her belly. it wasn't as big as it should be by now, she thought; she wonders if the stress has harmed her children's growth, and she cries over this when she is alone.
the morning the pair reached the river was quiet. red leaf did not speak. her thoughts race around the life within her, if her babes are okay, when she should tell him, if, if, if — she does not know how much longer she can hide it.
when cen orders her to make camp, red leaf sits down near their pile of pelts as if she is going to do so, but instead, she begins to weep.