Ouroboros Spine I'm flying like a bird to you now

Raimo was pleased to have found the woman something to keep her mind engaged through the day. He did not hear the strain of her admitting it, not yet attuned to the subtleties of either woman of the mountain. She could consume the meat and work with the hide, which might allow Kukutux to derive some semblance of comfort, or be closer to her norm. Raimo could not know. If working was what she was used to the he would provide for that.

After accepting the gift the woman went on to tell a story. This thrilled Raimo, a warmth filling his gaze that shifted his bullish face in to something boyish. Stories were of great importance to him — his family raised him on many that helped him become the man he is. Stories were what brought him to the Teekon in the first place.

Tigiganniak. He reiterated, testing the new word. A fox that changed its skins? That was a new tale for Raimo, which he drank in greedily. I have never seen a white fox. He admits. It would be a tricky hunt, but thrilling, I imagine. The red variant had been easy to follow and to cull, but the pale fox would present a challenge. Raimo found himself hoping that one day he would find one.