Deepwood Weald [m] red flax

It took him a moment to parse all those words. Some were not as familiar to him as others, but they click-click-clicked into place with context clues the way that new languages always did for him. Still, for clarity, he spoke next in a tongue he was more familiar with.

"When I asked her if she would have me, I asked if she could be happy — with you and your wives. To live with seal hunters." His eyes flashed downward; he was still just a little ashamed to feel so helpless without him to lean on. "Because I knew that if I started a family, I would never sleep. Not unless I knew someone else was watching while I close my eyes. One wife is enough for me to worry about — "

He laughed, almost, though he did not find this truth funny. Only uncomfortable to voice, comforting as it was to think about living so near to his brother's village.

" — but I will still be a seal hunter," he said, and when he looked at Chakliux, he felt a wild surge of energy and confidence. The kind that begged to be put to use in some way, though Dutch was at a loss as for what to do with it. "She is my wife. She will be my one and only. But our families will be stronger together. I know that she will see this, too."

He did not care about the caribou hunter or what he thought. He did not care very much what anyone else thought, either. But he could see that Simbelmyne's worries would need to be assuaged, whatever form they took.