Permafrost Hollows everlong

to think that her sons would learn to see the threads, and to dream, was something of a novelty to wilwarin. she was glad to have dreamer at her side; and she reached for him now, as he spoke, and kissed his cheek, innocent enough with her attachment.

i wish i could tell them stories, she mouths, making sure he is watching. i wish my anaa could see them.

they would never hear their mother's voice; she had none, except in her dreams, where she imagined herself singing and dancing. can Wolf bring me my voice? and here her face split with a silent laugh, a wide pantomime so that dreamer would know she is only jesting—but there is a pang of longing there, lodged in her throat.