Herbalists' Cache cen

Talk flowed, broken in places and smooth in others but dangerous either way, like the blackness of sea sliding through cracks in old ice. Sulukinak listened. She watched. She saw above all, women who did not understand and men who held no patience to teach.

The tone shifted to vitriol when Meleys voiced threats, and Sulukinak looked to the waiting darkness where children slept, and more traitors to her uncle lurked. Silent, until now.

I am mother, too. She had suspected as much of herself; but afraid of it, too. Not for being Saatsine - she was barely that - but for the legacy that came before her. She looks from the darkness of the den mouth to Morwenna, figuring her admission would be lost among the emotions of her elder family.

You don't trust Saatsine. Why should you be welcome with us? You don't even trust your husband. Standing with Meleys, the shadow looked again to where the babes slept with their pale nanny. Are these even his blood?

The harvest could not come soon enough.