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Keshi stood and began the story, but there wasn't just a verbal component, there was also her movements—a somatic piece to the puzzle, all which held Mojag's fascination. It was as much about the tale within the story as it was to simply watch her move, and he was thrilled.

Mojag's gaze flit to the tiny songbirds in the trees, which themselves had been watching the wolves and now spasmed away from sight, being prey, and feeling the pressure of their attention. He learned through the story of how Keshi's people fit in to their roles; what kind of roles were of importance, what values the Summerwalkers saw as important.

He saw the way Keshi paused and looked to him, and he nodded, urging the woman to continue the story. By now he knew he owed more than berries for this splendid tale.