clay follows.
he finds in his heart there is a fracturing, one that is a dangerous calamity. he wishes nothing more than to be with his sister, elk charm. and yet he does not feel he belongs anymore. yes, she tells him! he's a sharadoii warrior, a hunter of the caribou.
but something in him is broken, and that is something not even his sister can salve—no matter how she might try. he goes anyway. he follows, head lowered often, as he sinks into himself. teeth clapsed firm around deer skin pouch carrying things he sought fit to collect.
the skull of a mockingjay. the feathers of many birds; two shrike feathers, one raven, one cardinal. the velveteen fur of a young hare stripped, but not yet treated. he was a collector of many things, and always had been. but it was not for trade! these were his possessions.
he does not like the large man who shadows his sister. looking upon her with voracious eyes that seek to devour. and perhaps, most hypocritical of all, he is not sharadoii! clay would not allow for him to dampen the purity of his sister. so arrogantly, the gray-pelt man moves between
only to have his sparkling emerald stare torn from him and to the stranger girl who appears upon doe's graceful loping and wearing such an amulet only a practiced sharadoii woman could craft.