Qeya River run

Meleys ran to him with a swiftness, despite her seasons and romped around her brother, less kisses of affection and more nipping and prodding with her nose in teasing manner of the great big man he had become. He was but a tall, gangly yearling when she left. 
 
The phantom listened to her brother's tale of his time here. He spoke of one of many cousins, known by passing name only to her. But what of his wife? Maybe she had died on the caribou runs. Meleys didn't know the woman. Had not known the first wife, either. Yet the caribou clans picked up much gossip with their constant moving about and rekindling with others, and were deep in their politics. She had heard the humors.  

A son? Does he show strength for the runs? This would always be at the forefront of her mind. Why was he at the coast and not with his father? Did he fall behind? If Meleys were to find out it was that damned woman who had seperated Cen from both his son and eye, she would gut her in a far less respectable manner she would the caribou. 

No children of my own will be following. Her expression grim, eyes hard. My pups were too weak to keep up. It was as simple as that. Deer were made to be on their feet and constantly on the move without hours. The pups were at least given a few months and if this wasnt enough, well - My husband shamed me with this. So she put the blame on him, as he did with her. I could not stay with this blight upon me. So I left. 

She had missed her brother's temper, even in youth, his resilience. He showed strengths she never saw in her own pups. She left out the details, as had Cen. Perhaps, one day... It seems so. She then added, when he said she had come at a good time. We are in need of one another, now. Her one pale and one dark eye cast to the herd.