“He had his blanket tucked up under his chin. She had sat with him, holding his hand, Singing a lullaby about squirrels and acorns she had heard as a child. Now she disentangled her fingers, folded in the edges of his blanket, and turned to attend the fire. As she added two pieces of wood, she glanced at Heron Wing, sitting to the side, the raccoon bowl clutched to her breast. For most of the afternoon, she had sat thus, asking Morning Dew to turn away the steady stream of visitors coming to dis...cuss clan business, to ask advice about the suitability of certain marriages, or any of the other problems that Heron Wing was constantly consulted about. During that time, Morning Dew had finished processing her hickory oil, and now had four jars of the precious liquid sealed and stowed under the sleeping benches. She had cooked supper, fed Stone, and entertained him with stories of how Wind lost his four sons and killed a monster by blowing through a bullfrog pipe. Now, her chores at end, she replaced the last of the supper plates and made up Heron Wing’s bed.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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