<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5b/Tsitu%2C_Nadaeki_Alpha.png)</div><strong>Character name</strong>: Ts'itu e'e Son<br/><strong>Who:</strong>Zhergan<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Near Shaman House<br/><strong>When: </strong>Early Morning, Sixth Day of Hunger Moon<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Needing to appear strong lasted her all the way to Shaman House. Her strides remained purposeful and sure, her chin up, her gaze sweeping the village with assessment and confidence. It was only once she was within the shadows of snarling wolf heads that all the forced bravado collapsed from her system. She only meant to lean briefly against the side wall, but soon enough she slid down into the snow in a heap of exhausted limbs. "Mother Winter grant me strength," she whispered, letting her head fall back against the wall. It was not as hidden as she would like, lacked the privacy of her own chambers, but it would do for a momentary recovery. Soon enough she would have to put on a smile, go in an tend to her warriors with smirks and congratulations and teasing words, make sure that Kon didn't rebel against Danae's healing hands as he was wont to do, reassure her near sister and her third that she was just fine.<br/><br/>Muscles winced in protest as she bolted upright. The omega sage who'd just greeted her certainly demanded more respect than she could manage half asleep in the snow, but as she looked up at him she couldn't muster the energy to get up. Zhergan had a way of making her feel like a pup again, and not in the sense of reminding her of her childhood. Rather, she often felt as if she were tripping over her own paws around him or as if she were somehow not measuring up. Often she wondered if he saw some failing in her that she herself was unaware of. It was unnerving at the best of times.<br/><br/>"I'm meant to be looked over by Danae after she tends to the wounded," she said, reaching up to shove some of her hair over her shoulder. It was damp and the snow on it had stopped melting, showing just how low her body temperature had become. "I didn't want to crowd the healing space just yet."<br/><br/>She hoped, however briefly, that he'd merely stopped to make a comment or two before continuing into the Shaman House. Yet he crouched next to her and pulled out the pouch that carried his seers runes. It meant news.<br/><br/>Ts'itu actually drew forth the strength to sit properly upright, her head cocking to the side as her green eyes focused on the myriad objects he emptied onto the cold ground. Her white teeth flashed in the morning light, seeming sharper than a human's for all that they were set in a human mouth. The pattern of the runes meant little to her, she'd always kept to the more solid world of healing, having no talent for reading the spirits.<br/><br/>Her breath was let out in a low sound that was not quite a growl as he finished his reading of the omens. Or perhaps, this reading was only the beginning. The thought was terrifying. "Mother Winter protect us," she said, reaching out to place a finger near the spill of objects marking out the pack's future. She did not touch anything yet she wished to, wished she could physically pick up the pieces of this dreadful omen and rearrange them into something better. It was impossible. She was no spirit walker and those who meddled with fate rarely survived the act.<br/><br/>After a few moments, she pulled her hand back. Red hair tumbled over her shoulders as she looked up at the sage. Though smudged beneath with the dark bruises of sleeplessness, her green eyes like new spring leaves were undeniably fierce. "How long do we have?"