Emberwood dvanaest

she had not forgot the feel of his teeth, the feel of a harder gaze.

those things were not here. it was like a different man. one still capable of those things but one who did not broker with them now. instead there were tails that moved and words of promising warmth. a gesture to his chest moved her more than she cared to admit.

bloodhunters now. not just her, but her husband. the man who had given more than ice diver had ever known. a mother to his children, his own children. let this be a balm to his remaining aches, she hoped.

she was wanted as war chief.

she moved with his brush, as if stirred back to life from this loft realization. a war chief can help order more than a chieftain's wars. she motioned out to the grand herds of caribou. a brief grin before it faded away. regardless, we will make it so. i speak to ridgeback, you speak to ghost talker.

perhaps now she would overstep, but she wished to only show her devotion — together we speak to pack. so they see face that you see.