Stavanger Bay tuniksimaruk ⦒

so. her words were understood, if not returned.

moonwoman was patient. after a glance toward where vaire sat outside, she looked back toward reverie.

"i have had many, many children. each birth splits the woman-bones and opens into blood."

as she spoke, the duck selected a small brush of nettles, sacred for their bite. her paw was careful not to touch with more than claws.

"sometimes when we cannot heal, it is because a tupilak has entered our bodies. an evil spirit, which brings sickness. tupilaq can take the face of those who we love. it can blacken our blood."

now moonwoman looked to the man. "this is sacred medicine, not for the eyes of your husband, reverie."

the secrets of women, unbestowed upon one so young.

but the choice to send this lestan away was not her own to make.

and so she pointed toward the early berries, the rosehips, ground. "i will make you a tea. i will teach my daughter how to make it. drink twice in a day, when the sun rises and again as it goes behind the mountains. it is not only for your body, but for your mind."

"and for blossom," elderberry syrup, pooled in a leaf. "give this to her as you take your own tea."

the nettle brush lay between them.