The matrons of the tribe looked up, surprised, when Andrev set down a rack of fresh, unconscious but still-living fish for gutting and cleaning.
“Where are Kir and the others?” one woman asked.
“Fetching trinkets from girls,” Andrev said. “The nearest tribe is half a day’s journey. Expect Kir and the others home tomorrow.”
The women exchanged looks; they knew that Andrev would never receive a trinket from a girl. Andrev shouldered his spear and headed toward the edge of camp where he’d made his own bed for the night. The reindeer would shelter him from the midnight wind.
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