Dawnlark Plains please don't dress in black when you're at his wake

Not much is left to expell. Her stomach calms for the time being, however the rest of Sulukinak is clearly agitated. As the stranger circles the shadow she has the distinct image in her head of a whale herding seals; a sight from the everdark.

The stranger speaks, choppy and perhaps with a foreign lilt, and Sulukinak pales beneath her dark furs. She glimpses the wet patch of dirt that has already soaked up her bile.

Sick... She parrots, considering.

Her eye drifts to the other woman with that wild spark of a cornered animal, despite the open space they share. They hold an expression Sulukinak cannot read.

She looks to her own sides next, craning to see if her belly swells, as if it would be so sudden. A kind of sick.