Silverlight Terrace snow thunder

where would they go? one village loomed beside another.

they could not go back if he remained there. they could keep running for a while; and tautukpik was glad for the distance, and glad for akmaaksi, even though she began to doubt—and she made a noise, which pulled tautukpik from his anger, briefly.

the anchor stalked beside her. he placated in whatever ways he knew how—touch, mostly. connection. words would have come but he could not trust his tongue, and all he wanted to do was scream and shout, which would not help anything.

what if he were to let it out, and they be found? no. silence was the way of akmaaksi and so tautukpik would adopt it too, for a time.

he tugged at the fur of her nape, and draped his chin over her shoulders, and pulled away after to stand very close. deep breaths, that was all he could manage now.