Witch's Marsh starflower

"you want see me again," sun eater observed, a flown shaft from atlatl lodging beneath her second rib. he was none for sidestepping nor formality; his teeth sank true to the heart of the beast, including when its mouth was delicate and its eyes lit by silvering wonder.

morwenna reminded sun eater that he was no rote automaton, no reduction of gear and cog. by her own words the loyalty she held was for another, a different man for whom her admiration was clear.

why should he seek the same?

bound by ancient rites, sun eater knew his role was alongside a saatsine woman, a caribou wife. it was what he desired. but his own hungers had only ever been found by red leaf, the darker things which moved sun eater to a final end.

this creek woman, she did not know him. she did not know who he had been; she had never heard the names of yikaas and of cen.

red-painted-woman came warmly to his mind, again, unbidden. "you find me here as long as caribou eat leaves in forest. they go back," pointing with his dark muzzle toward the taiga. "we go back." the bulls would spar and fill their cows with calves. the herds would retreat to the brackenwood for the long darkness of icy nights and days of bitter freeze. 

it was where the saatsine belonged.