Today they knew her decision. From now on, during long nights of snowstorms, they would no longer feel anguish before death. Her son could not fail to take charge of the fate of his tent. Time would pass, and he'd understand this himself, he just needed to be married off. In the evening she went over to the neighbours' place, and by the next day, the old people's camp was occupied with one thought only: which end of the tundra to travel to and in which camp to look for a woman. A woman was needed that was neither too expensive nor too cheap, one that wouldn't arrive bare naked, one whose hands would not be lazy but quick and deft. One who wouldn't have to do the same job three times over, and whose hands would sew boots and coats with stitches that didn't look like crow's feet. Where could such a woman be found?