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

The woman took a piece, chewed. Nothing happened immediately, and Sulukinak waited a moment as if her throat might burn with magic she did not understand, to close or to cause her a twisting pain, as she had seen could happen.

Then she took the rest upon her tongue and chewed it. First a shred of the leaf on top, then as she slowly masticated and eventually swallowed, she took another, and turned that to cud against her molars.

It was bitter—but not nearly in the way that caribou bile could be, or as strong in flavor as fermented seal flesh, which had filled her belly as a child. Whatever it was, her stomach soon settled.