The weight of K'ile's fingers went light, pulling upward as though by strings in Azeyma's hands. He lifted and wrapped his fingers over K'piru's hands, saying, "You daughters mourn as well, don't they? The tribe needs its shaman. It isn't your duty to search." He could feel weakness inside her hands -- thin, delicate hands meant for careful work. They were meant to give care to a tribe, and to children. They were not made for the strength it takes to brave the desert alone. Or to confront the demon that her daughter had called, if it were to find her while she was alone. "If you're so desperate that someone remains, let Thalen or myself do it for you."
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