Moonspear we just sell different parts of ourselves

it was not only grandfather bear that had come through in destruction, it was the snows that had not abated. kukutux had grown thinner with grief; she tended few of her tasks, unable to stand in the storm for so long. and for this she experienced a great feeling of worthlessness, of weakness.

tucking her diminished shoulders into a wrap of mottled rabbitfur, the woman slowly made her way out of the ulaq, padding through the high drifts for a nearby cache. but when she arrived, the duck found hunger had fled her, and so pressed on, aimless for once. she had no word for the great sadness that dragged at her limbs, that filled her head with exhaustion but took sleep from her, and she wandered into the path of a tall shadow-etched stranger unknowingly.

"aya!" came her sheepish exclamation; the moondrop dipped her head to the stranger, who smelled newly of moonspear. "this woman greets you."