Qeya River run

meleys had suffered. their earlier joy fell away beneath the bunching of his jaw; he hated to think of the dead children and the weakness to which she had paired her blood. yet it was their way. if a child could not walk, what could they ever do for the lanzadoii?
still; they would have been nieces and nephews to the man once called cen, and he mourned them in silence as his sister's voice continued. "my son is strong," sun eater murmured, "but his mother lives among the fish-eaters."
he knew this might only bring new looks, hesitation, surprise; he did not look at meleys as he spoke of the seal hunters. "she is sharadoii," he said at last. meleys knew the politics of the lanzadoii, and so he looked down at the ground as he said, "her father was round horn. i went away, my sister. i did not seek the blessing of our elders. i went away and on my travels i met gheli. we loved one another." she might remember the dancing eyes of the beautiful woman. "she gave me ghaden. she died, meleys."
"when i met red leaf, my heart was filled with pain. she brought me joy and loved ghaden as her own. he drowned in the meeting of the cousin and the brother rivers. the other bitterbrush, they accused her, meleys, of answering that old blood-call between black stick and us. for grey stone."
"so i brought red leaf here and i tried to make her lanzadoii. but you see she is not here, and neither is ghelan." and his voice, choked with bitterness, dissolved now for a time.