Lost Creek Hollow my light

"i bring my war chief when i speak. maybe the ghost talker," sun eater mused, his thoughts galloping to the potential outcome of this meeting. morwenna was not some foolish girl; if she wished to walk with him now then she was able to choose this for herself.

his saatsine would stand against any teeth presented, but sun eater did not see why their parting must be marked by strife. morwenna wished to break from her current people to join his own. he would make smooth the way for her.

he caught himself now in this thinking; a feeling of delight spread hesitantly inside his chest, sap from a gumtree. "when?" impatient, but not for the act of asking; impatient to see her beneath the heavier snows, to see her coat's pattern blurred by the drifts; to see how she ran the caribou, to bring her back to the river.

were it possible, he might have nipped her heels in the manner of an antlered bull, chivvying with gentle affection the starweaver who had reached into his chest.

against thumping heart lay the tine and the feathers, bristling as he moved to trace the line of her throat, controlled in his touch yet with want simmering now that they had spoken of this attunement.