The morning hunt had come back full.
Tahla stood at the edge of the clearing and watched the warriors carry the elk to the slaughter house to have it dressed. Her breath misted in the cold air. Three in two days. The stores would be well-lined before the first hard frost, and the healers had already begun the preserving work of salting, wrapping, and stacking in the cool stone room beneath the eastern longhouse. The Lunaris moved steadily with each person knowing their work and doing it well.
She should have felt at ease about that. Mostly, she did.
The herb smoke drifted from the boundary line where Zorah's morning burning had already begun. The low, grey curl of it threading through the trees at the perimeter. The scent-masking blend was Zorah's design, refined over months with the tw
