Swiftcurrent Creek turquoise

Muskrat was young—now her own beloved gone. Ibis—the unnamed man. Gone.

It seemed entirely unfair, and he took another bite, realizing in that moment, he did not remember what Ibis’ favorite meal had been. As much as he tried to think upon it—recollection did not come. The shine of her eyes—the curl of her smile. Even worse, the stormcloud of her frown.

‘I have a son,’ she had told him—his fight to return to her and their girls. Her new family in his absence.

“To raid is to feel alive? Or is it to mask your loneliness in an attempt to prove self worth?”

His question was spoken softly then—he did not aim to mar her feelings, nor her culture. But he could not see it—and yet, refusing Eshe children… and now, he had laid with how many this year?

He lost count.

Who was he to judge the purpose of another’s life, when he couldn’t even find his own. “Sorry. That was uncalled for,” he offered, swallowing the fish—feeling as if it stuck in his throat, now.