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Oh this cow was trying her, and Siv knew the game all too well. She had seen it in the older women of her home, in the eyes of the judgmental and those who did not understand. Age gave power, but oh how much did they think they had? These women were not gods. This woman was not a god. She was an aging, heavy-set woman who seemed as if the need for control was so desperate it drove her mad. Siv did her best not to smile.
“Forgive me,” Siv cooed, and dipped her head. “My name is Siv Helsi. No one has spoken of your home to me; indeed, I met a girl who did not speak of her home at all. Her silence intrigued me.” She looked to the buck, a strong, proud thing, and returned her too-sharp gaze to Eris…though her eyes did not lift from the woman’s hands, studying them as if they might betray what she was. “I brought a gift because there is little I can offer. I made it across the wilderness with a child, and I can tool and craft leather, but my talent and my birthright is one of the spiritual world.”