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long about this, and come to a decision.” He paused, as if gathering strength. “I want you as my woman.”
    She stared at him for a moment, and then struggled not to laugh. “I cook your food, I share your roof. I spank your son when he is bad and kiss him when he is good. What more remains?”
    “My tongue tripped. I want you to be my
wife”
he said. “For us to make ceremony before the tribe, before Father Mountain and Great Mother. I want us to own each other and proclaim that bond before all: to the sky, the mountain and the earth.”
    She sighed, mirth gone. “Great Mother’s children have needs. And those she provides. We do not get everything we want.”
    He smacked the flat of his hand against the ground. “Why not! So many things in the world have changed. Why not this?”
    She waved her hand at the lean-tos and twin campfires. Peaceful now. Tomorrow, they would rise and walk another day. And a few days after that, another walk. And on and on, until Stillshadow and Sky Woman told them they had found a home. “Look upon them, Frog.”
    “Upon who?”
    “Our children,” she said.
    “Children?” He rested his hand on her rounded belly. “Do you see the future now?”
    T’Cori laughed. “No, fool. I mean our people. The ones who follow us. They trust us. Need us, like children do. Hands of hands of families.”
    “I see them,” Frog said.
    She leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “Just as you see the faces in the clouds. Watch them. They watch us. They try to laugh, to sing, to dance. They try to be brave … but they are afraid. Too many things have changed. If all things change, they will have nothing to hold on to. We must wait.”
    “Wait?”
    “Yes,” T’Cori said. “Yes. In seasons, all things come. You and I can love, because more and more every day our people see you as our great hunt chief. But if I became your wife too soon, they would say you had taken Great Sky’s woman. Then, what if the
jowk
makes evil play with us? If a hunter is gored or if plague falls? If a baby is born with six toes, they will say our union is cursed. Please, my love. We must be strong.”
    “But … you will still share my hut?” he asked, irritated by the pout in his own voice.
    She nodded. “Only as long as you will have me.”
    “Then you are mine forever.”
    T’Cori sighed, and nestled closer. “We have lost so many things.”
    “My father,” Frog said. “Three brothers.” Scorpion and Fire Ant, dead in fire. Hawk Shadow, torn by wolves.
    “And I, four sisters.” Small Raven, dead of cold. Fawn Blossom, killed by a crocodile. Dove and Sister Quiet Water, lost to the Mk*tk
    Could such tragedy be overcome? Dared they even to hope?
    “Can we hold on to each other?” His voice was a little strained. Anxious.
    “Of course, big ears.” She laughed. “Who else would have either of us?”

Chapter Four
    In girlhood, Hot Tree had danced from dusk until dawn, but those days were now gray ghosts. Muscles once tireless now felt like rotted string.
    “My bones are heavy,” she said more to herself than anyone else. In still water, when the sun was just so, her grandmother smiled back at her. So strange. How could this be? Where had this old woman come from? Deep within the cocoon of fatigue, Hot Tree still felt like a girl.
    A boy with a round head and a huge nose tugged at her arm. “Gramma? Is there something you need?”
    She shook her head. “No, Snail. Just gather the firewood. Pick up branches in the firebreak. Be a good boy.”
    “Always,” Snail said.
    Imitating his full name, Snail Crawling Backward dropped to his hands and knees and scurried away giggling, toward the boma’s walls and safety. She barely noticed, looking off toward the south, her brow furrowed.
    Something was wrong. She could not
see
it. Could not
hear
it. But whatever the danger, Great Mother would protect them. She knew it.
    Ibandi men had beaten the Mk*tk. Surely now their gods would smile upon them and