The Heartwood Omak

A singing voice replied to him. On the notes of her voice was something he recognized, though the white hunter struggled to place her name. It was familiar and so he did not wander from the place where he had called to them. The pale figure stood, a stalwart statue against a backdrop of dark woodland.

Much to his surprise, it was a familiar shape that found him. Her eyes were bright and her gait was strong, healthy. Kannoyak watched the woman approach, admiring the confidence of her steps. She looked well. This was pleasing to the man.

Moongirl, his deep voice was offered with reverence. You have healed very well.

The man’s plum gaze was warm upon her.