Golden Glade Your skin was gilded

A fight with a close friend.

That was all.

In the moments she had turned to him, Stratos had noticed the common weight that filled many women in these warmer months. She was pregnant, and no scent of man circled the woods she lost herself in.

He remembered Kigipigak, how his sister had left him. Is this how their separation began? Stratos wished he had been more present to help her. Maybe then, they would have made it out the otherside together.

I know those words, he remarked, stepping where she could see him better and settling on the ground, I have many sisters. Just two - but they made up many,  for all that they were. Maybe this one had a brother back home. If someone had found his sisters crying alone, he would have wanted them to help, in whatever ways they let them. Hurt is not only made by teeth. I will listen, if you'd like. Or, I will leave. But hurt is made worse when you are alone. And he tapped his head with his paw. When it is made bigger in here.