Moonspear back to the forward command center

kukutux had forgiven arcturus. in fact, she had never blamed him for her hurt, though the newness of it smarted. the scene of the fairy being chased away played over and over through her mind. hydra was indeed formidable, and the duck was relieved to be beneath her protection.

she wondered at this jarilo. would he be kind and reserved as his brother was? fierce and commanding like hydra? she could not picture anyone who demanded a greater measure than the ferocious queen.

to be a woman! and to be so powerful! it shook kuktutux far more than she spoke, this reality that the once-sheltered girl had suddenly, shockingly, beheld.

and then hydra asked after that ruptured cultural system, and the duck bit her lip, for she did not know how to respond. the truth, then, direct and unflowered.

"we lived upon an island. men were the hunters. women gathered and tended the children. marriages were made at birth. you grew up with the one who would be your wife or your husband."

her voice was quiet, halting; she was not sure of her words, but the cool intellectual hunger in hydra's gaze drove more from her stammering lips. "we marry y-younger than you here. but that is ... was ... our way. my mother was our healer. she taught to me and my sister the plants i know now."

a muscle tightened in the girl's slender jaw; shut her eyes for a firm moment, willing back  the tears that always threatened when she thought of how she had lost them all. not before hydra. not tonight. kukutux would not weep now.

"they died," she went on, hoarsely, simply, vaguely. "iyakgik," kuktutux sighed. "stones that fell upon our world."

her chin trembled now; the girl looked away from hydra, grief thickening her throat painfully.