the sharadoii girl had been busy around the valley. laying down markers and trinkets at every corner. indicators that sharadoii had claimed this. a goose feather mount with caribou claws enshrined around a stone. riverstones embued into tree trunks that glimmered in the afternoon sun.
but where her brother had been— there was no answer. she had been used to being alone, now. with luke meandering, the other women she had met spread out through her valley. Naltagh tested her voraciously. and so did the cliffs.
but there was a scent then, a song?
words, words that she recognized!
she bounded through the woodland. shrike feathers entertwined to her nape, caribou sack of herbs upon her back. racing, racing until she came to a clearing.
there was a man. large. towering. she swallowed—
but then a woman. small, with— goose feathers? cardinals?
skedzay has answered. she muttered, quiet, but enough to be heard.