Whitefish River Unvsiyv

Her focus had been on the waters, flaxen eyes looking for the undulating bodies of the creatures she and Tawodi hunted. So focused that she did not notice the arrival of the pale man.

However, Tawodi did not miss a thing, alerting Losi to the new presence. The sudden alarm startled her, causing her to misstep and fall forward, face planting into the waters. Luckily, she had only been on shore, the water’s edge barely more than a couple of inches above the rock bed, avoiding a complete soak, though it was not entirely unwelcome. She had wanted to wade in the waters, after all.

Sputtering and coughing, she turned to find him watching her with tired eyes. Her embarrassment was evidently, not only because she face-planted, but also because she had not heard his approach. She prided herself in exceptional hearing, but when all her attention was glued to something, everything else was white noise. It was good to have Tawodi in these moments.

The bird had landed, perched upon the hollowed log, a rather large piece of drift wood they had chosen to house them for the time being. He did not appear ruffled, very unbothered by this male, which Losi saw as a good sign.

“Osiyo! Excuse us if these are your lands—we are not from here.” Her accent always returned a little heavy when she spoke her native tongue, the common language feeling a little thick in her mouth.