Ankyra Sound totem

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Her face slowly scrunched again.

I brought her to Moonspear, Pie reminded him, so technically I brought trouble there. But it’s a moot point, because we don’t just roust villagers for making mistakes. Or, she was swift to correct herself, we didn’t.

She let that hang in the air for a beat, the only sound stretching between them the rhythmic pounding of the surf. Pie had to admit it was soothing, even if its scent was an acquired taste.

Moonspear fell. Rather, it dwindled into nothing, she told him, shifting her weight. Because, Tiuttuk continued, fully intending to place blame, before biting her own tongue.

She shook her head. It wasn’t Hakumele’s fault alone, nor did she need to give in to petty temptation. Treepie drew in a big breath of salty air, then released it. Her eyes were still a bit beady, though she made an effort to coax some of the tension out of her muscles and soften the sharp edge to her tone.

I’m glad you’re okay, Haku. I worried when you disappeared without a word, she told him, especially when I made you promise you wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t lay the blame for Moonspear at his feet, yet she would hold him accountable for this. You owe me more than just an explanation.

He had said many things, though two words were conspicuously missing.