Herbalists' Cache to tell of joys in storms

Here, everything that had history had complexity. I did not know there were such rules for marriage here, she muttered. Back home, marriage... was simpler. If there was love and strength, then two wolves found themselves together.

Strange, it was, that the chieftain, a man of steel brutality and high dignity, was now giving her food for thought. She only now realized that, without consistent and reliable prey like the caribou, the loose groups back home never developed these traditions. Too much focus was put on survival and the immediate coming generation, and not a bloodline running countless seasons into the future. But still they valued their young, because their dwindling hopes for  better lives lay with the ones with the most time to spare. 

Home. A place far away. She tried to find words to describe it, and found none that would make it remarkable. Rolling hills, sweeping winds. Little prey, small grasses. Not much else. What else was there? The Saatsine land had far more to offer in details than her barren home. Distant enough to believe the ocean to be a myth. Tales of endless waters came from travelers. Then, innocently - Are oceans real? Are they really? 

A little silence. She tasted it and tried to imagine such a thing. She had seen lakes, but a lake with no end was foreign to her. Then again, Sun Eater had said that the Muradoii shed blood by the sea. It must be real, then, surely.