Bitterroot Valley dalnum

His first word is not her own.

It is one she has heard before from other mouths not of her blood. Vainly, she has no interest in common words. The second word that comes from him is neither usual nor familiar.

This lighted her gaze with warmth and surprise for but a moment.

Then she was thoughtful once more, composed and collected. She could not seem too eager. Even if she was.

Tüm.

Her voice a soft echo of his own gruff one. A claw touched the edge of the meal.

Aleinn.

This time she gave no clue for what she was telling him, teaching him. Only a long look into that face that towered above.