Walks with Moon stretched under the buffalo robe, lingering in that state of sleep just before waking, reaching one delicate bronze hand down to rest on the rounding of her belly, while extending the other to touch Eagle Talon.
Her eyes bolted open when fingertips failed to find his warmth and she realized he was no longer under the robes with her. Her surprise cleared her mind of slumber, and the unsettling events of the previous evening flooded her memory. She sat up suddenly, clenching the edge of the robe high to her chest to keep the morning chill from her square, delicate, brown shoulders. The sky beyond the smoke hole at the top of the tipi was still pre-dawn. The hide walls of the tipi glowed softly from the last embers of the night fire, silhouetting her husband’s naked figure as he squatted, facing away from her.
Eagle Talon’s powerful back rose angular from his muscular buttocks. The ebb and flow of the embers lit the space between his long black braids and the taper of his neck where it met his shoulders, accentuating the rippled definition of strength in his arms.
She watched him poke and prod at the coals in the fire ring, throwing his prodding stick into the ring with a sigh, shaking his head and whispering to himself. A small flicker of flame sprang from one end of the piece of unburned wood, adding a tremble of light to the interior of the tipi. His shadow danced on the wall.
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