she stopped to watch in amused surprise as her companion attempted to taste the foul castoffs, laughing at the expression made.
is better that way,agreed the sharadoii in a bright voice, before she settled once more to listen.
cecil was a skilled story-maker. should walosi ever gather for those old tales handed down and those new ones created, she had no doubt of ability to charm an audience of more than herself. mother's brother had showed how deer might be hunted, with a nod to sharing among other meat-eaters. but to kill a snake first; her brow furrowed. not with judgement, but to consider how much fright had been present to make such a blow.
the people described and the sharadoii each lived in nearby family groupings. similarly to the seal hunter also, she imagined.
your shidá’í sound like -- have much wisdom,she said with care, wondering if that was the source of this kindness she saw in cecil's face.
glad you have him.
she put aside a final row of offal.
sharadoii are caribou hunters. caribou hunters have three grouping, three -- faction. sharadoii, valley-dwellers. lanzadoii, long-running-people. and the muradoii, the blood drinkers.elk charm was unable to staunch a shiver.
in each faction, many bands. i was born to great stag band. great stag,she went on,
is band who -- when there is hunt or wedding or gathering, great stag say 'come to our land and be here.'perpetual hosts.
live in wetu with father and mother. three brothers. i learn to make pelts, to fish, to cut meat. sharadoii do not long walk. we wait for caribou to make path to our valley. then we hunt and hunt and hunt,all that might be needed for the year to come.
her eyes blinked.
sharadoii women do not always hunt. i did not. mother say i stay back, wait to prepare meat when father and brothers carry back.
a smile.
many celebrations. many happiness.her gaze shone toward cecil.
my mother was first woman in all sharadoii bands. she gave to me many words. much wisdom. like your shidá’í

