Grouse Thicket Bones of my bones and flesh of my flesh,

Intended for Dionysus

Waawaashkeshi thoroughly believed she must be ill. A fever, maybe.

Her condition seeming to flare up, the sunflower girl had left the copse for the afternoon so as to avoid worrying Nasamiituuq. For now she lay in the comfort of a thicket, the chirps of grouse birds soothing her mind for the time being.

But in truth, this was the last place she wanted to be.

She longed to return to her friend, to curl up with the Moonglow daughter and nibble her fur clean, to act as though nothing else mattered today. She pushed it from her mind, or tried.

The boulder had taught her how to feel lonely. Now more than ever, she wished it had not.