Hoshor Plains mothersea

i am, a toothy, proud little grin began to spread from cheek to cheek. the mountain, her mountain; her birthright. you probably know my mom, then.
surely it was obvious. she was the spitting image of anaa in miniature, save for the eyes of glittering emerald which now narrowed in uncertainty toward the seal hunter man. she takes another set of steps toward him. are you a hunter?