The seer never gave anyone much time to ask questions, having hers wasted on trivialities was pure agony. The crone grabbed a knife the size of a smal... sword and started chopping away at the hunk of root. ‘Please.’ Lei almost yelled her plea to be heard over the incessant sounds of metal cutting into dry, hard, sinewy root. ‘Go away. I’m busy,’ yelled the crone, also to be heard over her work. ‘Just say one more thing, please, just one,’ pleaded Lei. The crone stopped chopping but kept her back. Mom’s been trying to talk him into taking the teaching job they keep offering him here, but he gets mad when she tells him that he’s getting too old to wrestle thousand pound critters for a living.’ ‘Is Wendy your bio mom, then? She doesn’t strike me as a small town girl.’ ‘She isn’t. She was a journalist in New York City when she got sent out here to do a story on Jim’s elk conservation program and he grabbed her and married her.’ ‘And your bio mom?’ ‘She worked for the Forest Service. When I. More

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