Swiftcurrent Creek yiron

akavir was forthcoming, even welcoming. skaigona kept her eyes from etienne even as his wrath burned into the side of her face. he didn't need to show it; he didn't need to chastise her, and she was grateful he said nothing more.
in one moment, she shared more with akavir than she did anyone else; her stare fractured into pain she hid in the next moment, from both men. "i'm sorry."
her voice was a ragged murmur.
what she had done, she regretted and both did not. there was no room for nuance in the face of righteous anger.
it was unexplored even by her, unexplored even in the grief and the rage. fixing these directions in her mind, skaigona wheeled and did not turn again.
not until the creek had fallen far behind did she pause to see that ezra ate, gratefully finishing the morsels herself. the hard look in etienne's eyes would stay with her forever.