Qeya River chirosophist

a civilized man might seek the river and cleanse himself of the mess. he was not that. he wore the gore-magic proudly as a second skin.

a shadow shudders; kukuvrak bristles where the fur isn't gummed and red. he spies the woman—not that she was trying to surprise him.

studying one another. kukuvrak approaches with a ribald stare—issitoq called to tartok on the way. calling for you.

nostrils flaring, kukuvrak tries to figure out her origin by scent. what clan? what matriarch's blood pooled in her body? all he found was the scent of One Eye now.