you are very kind,she tells her, and means it.
caan has made one for me already. but perhaps another, when snow comes.she imagines herself buried beneath several thick hides, with only her nose visible, and the thought amuses her. perhaps that would be enough to keep the cold out, though she suspects even an entire caribou's winter coat would fail to warm her paws.
fa’liya watches the grin spread across tatsaaye's face, bright and toothy, although something about it strikes her as a little uncertain. she knows that expression. there are many things one may say with confidence while hoping desperately to be believed, and she has learned that conviction is not always the same as certainty.
i think she is right,she says after a moment.
many of you will, as long as you hold to your strength.she speaks gently, not wishing to make too much of the matter. tatsaaye' is young, but she has already endured enough to understand that the world does not always reward determination. fa'liya has seen stronger creatures falter for less than a difficult winter.
nearby, the calf ventures toward the ice again, emboldened by its mother's presence. this time she tests the slippery surface with one narrow hoof, withdrawing it when the thin crust gives way.
i have always liked winter,she confesses, turning her attention back to tatsaaye'.
i think this year's will be the best yet.she has no particular reason to believe so, beyond the prophecy bestowed upon her.