Firefly Glen moonlight danced with the silhouettes

"Yes," he agreed; Luhtar had been rude. Luhtar had been bigger than both of them. Had been a physical match, likely, for both of them combined. Catamaran liked to think he possessed the more skill of the two of them, but he could only believe Kinusi would have been dead weight in such a fight.

And then, "Yes," he said again — for he did not like the man, either.

But he liked Kinusi. He liked that, when he presented her with the scrap of fur, he could never have predicted what she might do with it. His coral gaze tracked it to its place atop her shoulders and lingered there, bewilderment clear for a moment before he wiped the expression from his face.

"I see," he hedged, and he supposed he did understand the purpose. It was just that the sort of forethought it took to clean a skin and wear it was foreign to him. He lived by the day, rarely staying long enough for his meals to grow cold, let alone for skins to dry.

"How do you cure it?" he asked, slowly warming to the notion; becoming intrigued by it. His eyes flicked back to her face. Did she know this power?