Within seconds, the icy spray ceases its unremitting, torturous dance on her skin, and she finds herself wrapped in the strong arms of someone she knows well. Her father’s scent, warm and comforting, fills her senses, allowing her some small measure of peace, though her body is wracked with violent tremors and her head is an agony almost too much to be borne. “Ate,” she moans, feeling much like a frightened child, “what’s happening to me?”

“Shhhh,” Wanblee Wapka croons in her ear, helping her through the wracking shudders which knot her muscles until they are like rocks beneath his hands. “Shhh, chunkshi. I’m here. I’m here. Shhh.”

A steaming mug is brought to her lips. “Here. Drink this. It will help.”

Inhaling the fragrant steam, she takes a tentative sip, then a larger one as the well remembered and much loved taste of honey soothes her palate and warms her from the inside. Her muscles begin to relax and she leans gratefully into her father’s quiet strength, taking her first full breath in what seems like hours. “Thank you.”

Smiling, he draws the mug away. “If you can hold this for a moment, I’ll get a towel.”

Raising shaking hands, she grasps the mug and holds it like a lifeline. Wanblee Wapka gradually releases his grip and, when he is satisfied that she can hold herself up without assistance, grabs a large towel from its place on the bar and returns, wrapping her in it and holding her close. “Better?” he asks, watching her take another, deeper drink from the mug.

“You don’t know how much,” Dakota replies as her eyelids begin to droop. “What did you—?”

“Just something to relax you, chunkshi. Is the headache easing?”

“A little, yes.”

“Good. Do you think you can stand?”

“With some help, I think. Whatever herbs you used….” She yawns hugely. “…they’re knocking me for a loop.” She turns her head and blinks at him. “How did you know?”

“I am your father,” he replies simply, giving her all the answer she needs.

With Wanblee Wapka’s help, Dakota slowly rises to her feet and allows him to lead her back to the bedroom. As he makes for the bed, Koda shakes her head and stops. “Couch,” she says. “Better.”

He looks at her for a moment, then nods. “I’ll get your robe.”

After trading towel for robe, Koda manages to make it to the living room under her own power and, thanking the gods that there is no one but her father to bear witness to her weakness, she collapses onto the couch in a less than dignified sprawl. Her father’s herbs have eased the vice in her head and loosened the cramping tension in her muscles, but nothing, it seems, can ease the burning in her blood. This state of hyper-arousal is, in its own way, more painful than the headache at its worst, and she shifts on the couch, eyes darting wildly around, seeking out her lover in the deep shadows of the house.

“She will return to you soon,” Wanblee Wapka remarks, entering from the kitchen carrying a bowl of steaming, thickened soup. He hands it to his daughter, returning her glittering stare with one of his own. “Yes, I sent her away for a short time. I knew you were ready to awaken, and needed time to speak with you.” Smiling slightly, he gestures toward the bowl. “Eat. It will help replenish your strength.”

“I—.”

“Eat.”

It is a tone she well remembers, and instinctively heeding it, she begins to do as ordered. After a couple of spoonfuls, however, she pauses, the soup sitting heavy in her belly. “Ate, I….”

With a small sigh, Wanblee Wapka lowers himself to the chest facing his daughter. He puts a hand on her wrist, squeezing it lightly. “Chunkshi, this need that you’re feeling…it is a normal thing.”

“Normal!?” she blurts out, wide eyed.

“Yes. It is an aftereffect of your spirit walk.”

“Never,” Koda half-whispers, bringing her free hand to her brow, “never, not even with Tali.”

“Tali was your beloved. But she was not the match to your spirit, Dakota. Kirsten is. She is mashke naghi. You feel the bond between you. You know I speak the truth.” He smiles a bit to soften his words. “This is something I have experience with, chunkshi. After all, why do you think you have so many brothers and sisters?”

Pulling the mug of cooling tea away from her mouth, Koda sputters and chokes and turns tearing eyes to her father. “Too much information, Ate!” she gasps. “Too much!”

Wanblee Wapka’s laugh is deep and melodious as he leans over and gently pats his beloved daughter on the back to ease her choking spell. “Too much, perhaps, but you need to know that I am speaking from experience. You are not alone in these feelings.”

The choking spell finally passes and she leans, gratefully, against her father’s hand, her expression somber. “How—how long will this…this ache last, Ate? I know that I can’t live this way, and Kirsten….” Her eyes widen as a new worry takes up residence in her churning mind.

“Be at peace in your heart, chunkshi. This need for your tehila will never pass, but the strength of it will dim over time.”

“How much time?”

“Two or three more days, perhaps. It is different for everyone.”

“What about Kirsten?”

“What about her? She is a very strong woman.”

Dakota doesn’t miss the strong note of approval in her father’s voice, and it warms her somewhat. “Yes, but how will she feel…tied to me in this manner? Mother understands, she is Lakota. But Kirsten….” She shakes her head. “Gods, Ate! What if she says ‘no’ and I can’t…I can’t….”

“She’ll never say no.”

Head snapping up, Dakota stares wildly into the shadows as the speaker of those words enters slowly, like a shining spirit making its way into the light. Kirsten is glowing, radiant, shining with an inner light that completely captivates her avid watcher. The hunger which has abated somewhat comes back full force and Dakota feels her entire body pulse with renewed, overwhelming desire. An almost soundless groan sounds from between suddenly parted lips as Wanblee Wapka looks on, smiling to himself.

He silently lifts his body from the chest and summons Asi, who is doing everything short of standing on his head and singing “Yellow Rose of Texas” in order to get his oblivious Mistress’ attention. With a very human sigh, the jilted dog trots over to Wanblee Wapka and allows himself to be led out into the fresh air.

“Never,” Kirsten repeats, voice low and purring, as she continues her slow, deliberate advance. Reaching the arm of the couch, she bends at the waist and covers Dakota’s lips in an incendiary kiss that has her lover seeing an entire universe of stars.

She finally pulls away, running the tip of her finger over Koda’s passion swollen lips. “Come, my love. Let me ease your ache.”

Unable to feel anything beyond the jolts of fire sparking along her nerve endings, Dakota allows herself to be urged up from the couch and let into the bedroom. When the door is closed behind them and Kirsten gathers her into her arms, the inferno roars to blazing life, and she gives into it willingly.

*

Two hours later, the lovers are lightly dozing, their bodies still pressed together, legs comfortably tangled. Kirsten is partway on top of Dakota, her head tucked into her lover’s neck. “Koda?” she murmurs sleepily, lips brushing against sweat-salty skin.

“Mm?”

“I was wondering….”

Koda tips her neck to the side, silently encouraging further exploration. “’bout what?”

Kirsten gives the skin against her lips a light nip, then pulls away slightly. “Those words you use when we make love….”

“Yes?” Koda purrs, pulling Kirsten even closer as she runs one bare foot along the smooth slope of Kirsten’s calf.

“I guess—I mean, I understand them in context, I think….”

“Oh, you do.”

“Thanks,” she replies, blushing slightly. “But…well…do you think you could teach me what they really mean? I mean, I’d…like to learn.”

“Ya would, hmm?”

“Yes. I would.”

“Alright, then.” Moving her legs just slightly, Dakota twists her body, and Kirsten suddenly finds herself flat on her back with six feet of amorous Lakota poised over her, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Consider this your first lesson.”

“Now?” Kirsten squeaks.

“No time like the present.” Giving Kirsten a quick peck on the lips, Koda settles herself more comfortably, then reaches up and glides a hand through Kirsten’s golden hair, watching as the soft, thick mass slips through her fingers like water. “Pehin.” She tugs the locks gently to establish her point.

“Pehin,” Kirsten repeats dutifully. “Hair.”

“Got it in one,” Koda replies, leaning down and giving her a deeper, lingering kiss. “You’re a good student,” she remarks when she comes up for air.

“With incentive like that, how could I be anything else?”

Laughing, Dakota hugs her close and slips a hand into her hair once again, splaying her fingers over the curve of Kirsten’s skull. “Nata.”

Kirsten’s brow wrinkles as her straight, white teeth bite down on her lower lip. “Nata. Skull?”

“Close.”

She thinks a moment more, though those thoughts are distracted by Koda’s short nails lazily scratching beneath the fall of her hair. “Head?” she guesses.

“Perfect.” Another kiss.

“Oooh, I like this kind of reward,” Kirsten chuckles when her lover releases her lips. “Sure beats the gold stars Mrs. Price used to give out in first grade!”

Dakota grins, and draws her hand away. Long fingers gently trail over Kirsten’s brow, her cheeks, her chin. “Ite.” She repeats the gentle stroking. “Ite. Ite hopa.”

“Face,” Kirsten finally replies, then blushes. “Beautiful face.”

“Very beautiful,” Koda murmurs, leaning down for another kiss. Tilting her head slightly, she brushes her lips against Kirsten’s nose. “Pasu.” Tilting further, she brushes a kiss against the lids of her lover’s eyes. “Ista.”