Qeya River teach

attn @Veksar

the earth here was quiet, save for the distant murmur of the river and the occasional rustling of unseen creatures. somewhere in this vast stretch of saatsine land, veksar waited. or wandered. she wasn’t sure which, but she had been given orders.

teach him.

sun eater had spoken, and she would obey, though she would not waste time on a man unworthy of the lessons she carried. he had called himself a hunter. she would see the truth of that soon enough.

her sharp gaze roamed the landscape as she ascended a small rise, the jagged edges of stone peeking through frost. she stilled at the crest, scanning below, ears twitching to every shift of movement.

then, she called.

veksar.

not warm. not cold. merely expectant.

if he was a true hunter, he would hear her. and if he was worthy of his place, he would come.

he hadn't been far.

shortly after his name rang over the hillside did he appear, and upon him he wore a resting scowl. he felt no need to prove himself to much of anyone, least of all these saatsine folk, but an opportunity to practice was an opportunity that should be taken advantage of.

he didn't remember her name. he felt kind of bad for it as he got a good look at her, this pretty little thing throwing daggers at him with her gaze. was she from here, or was she more like him?

he didn't answer her vocally, not at first. he chuffed as he reached the crux of the hill, looking at her expectantly — perhaps too with a bit of curiosity.

suliya watched as he came, her own posture steady, unwavering. he did not answer with words, but she did not need them—his presence alone was enough of a response.

i am suliya, she introduced, her voice even, but not unkind. cousin to sun eater. saatsine by blood. her tail flicked, a subtle indication of her pride.

she stepped forward, closing some of the distance between them, though she did not crowd him. she could see the curiosity in his gaze, the questions unspoken.

i will teach you the ways of the caribou, she continued, gaze sharp, measuring. how they move, where they travel. how to track them, how to bring them down.

she did not ask if he was ready. if he was here, then he would learn.

suliya. a cousin to sun eater. she didn't look half as vicious as he did, but she seemed twice as powerful. the sharpness of her cool eyes made veksar shiver.

it was a curious thought, the fact that she shared blood with morwenna's husband. she was so pale and pretty compared to him, but still rugged, like an unrefined diamond. immediately he was fascinated by her.

he stayed silent. his head nodded in a gesture forward as if to give her his consent to begin the lesson. there was no use in arguing it.

his assumption was, of course, that they would work in tandem. he slipped into focus as he tilted his head skyward in search of scents, padding a good ways away from suliya in order to keep his trail clean. he half-expected her to follow, half-expected her to bark at him for straying.

he turned after a moment, glancing back toward her. waiting.

suliya watched him, expression unreadable, though something in the way she carried herself—sharp and steady—made it clear she had already begun evaluating him. weighing his worth, his instincts, his discipline.

she did not follow immediately when he moved, nor did she call him back. instead, she let him make his choice, watching as he tested the air, as he distanced himself from her. a brow lifted as he turned back to her, waiting.

you think you lead? she asked, voice quiet but edged with something wry. you do not know what you track yet.

her steps were measured as she finally advanced, closing the space between them but not too close. he had the right instincts, but instincts were not enough. she would teach him the rest.

she nodded toward the distant herd, their bodies dark against the pale stretch of tundra. caribou do not move alone. they smell you long before you smell them. they know where wind moves before it moves.

her gaze met his, steady, challenging. we work together, or we do not work at all. you understand?

he grunted to indicate acknowledgment, though in reality he had only been half-listening. he knew, in some sense, what he was doing — he'd hunted elk and moose before, how different could caribou possibly be? but he gave her enough to show that he respected her and her time, as well as her effort. it was endearing, the way she commanded attention like an iceberg.

i'll follow your lead, he finally spoke, his voice raspy and low in his throat. you go ahead. show me.

and, in truth, he did want to learn. even if he didn't take it as seriously as she did, he liked watching her move. so much power in such a compact figure, long frosted pelt shaking as she walked with heavy steps. he could've spent the afternoon watching her.

veksar moved to flank the herd to the south, crouching low and following the frostbitten wind as it kept him from being easily noticed. he waited, in position, for suliya's command.

suliya didn’t acknowledge his words, but she took the lead, her body shifting into something sharper, something predatory. the change was effortless, a fluid transition from woman to hunter, and as she moved, she expected veksar to follow without question.

she maneuvered through the frostbitten tundra with sure-footed ease, her senses attuned to the herd before them. caribou are not elk, she murmured under her breath, her voice just loud enough for him to catch. they do not scatter the same. they do not fear the same.

they were tireless travelers, moving in endless migration across the ice, but they had weaknesses—patterns. weaknesses she had spent her life learning, memorizing, exploiting.

she moved ahead of him, pausing only to test the wind, then pressed herself low. we break the weak from the herd, she instructed, her gaze flickering to him briefly. but not with speed. not with force. they must not feel it coming.

her eyes sharpened, locking onto a young bull near the edge of the herd, limping slightly, falling behind the others. perfect.

suliya flicked her tail once—a signal. cut him off from the side. push him towards me.

and then she was gone, slipping ahead, already positioning herself for the kill.

veksar heeded her word. his large form moved over the ice in a flurry of white mist; his body shifted into gear and he took off, circling around the farthest edges of the herd. he wanted to spook them into running.

suliya barked an order and he veered off to the right, cutting through banks of snow. the young spike bleated out to its kin in warning as he closed in, blocking it off and isolating it on a path that led straight to his partner's teeth.

his own jaws found purchase and dug into the caribou's hind limb. a growl rumbled from deep in veksar's chest — a war cry, ringing out against the plain.

she moves like a shadow, silent and fluid, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

when veksar makes contact, when the caribou cries out and stumbles beneath the weight of his grip, she surges forward.

her fangs meet the spike’s throat, precise and unyielding. she clamps down, feeling the hot pulse of life beneath her teeth, feeling the frantic thrash of its limbs as instinct fights against inevitability.

but she does not falter.

her jaws tighten. the struggle slows. then, stillness.

when she finally releases, she lifts her head, white muzzle stained red, breath coming in slow, measured pants. she turns her gaze to veksar, satisfaction gleaming in.

he'd done it. he'd helped kill his first caribou.

he stared down at the bull as the light flickered and faded from his eyes. felt his pulse die beneath him. he reveled in the adrenaline rush, endorphins setting his body aflame, teeth and lips and face marred with scarlet.

and then, so quickly afterward, it dissolved and veksar felt nothing. not pride, not guilt — nothing. it was meat now. simple as that.

what did you think? how did i do? he asked, quirking a brow as his tongue flashed out and passed over his upper lip. are you going to report me to sun eater?

suliya stepped back from the carcass, breath fogging in the crisp air as she regarded veksar with a steady gaze. blood spattered her pale muzzle, staining the fine fur along her chest. there was a faint smile—subtle, but there.

you did well, she said simply, though there was genuine approval in her voice. you listened. good. you move strong. you will hunt again.

she tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring him. the wild, hungry thrill in his gaze had not gone unnoticed. she knew it well.

i will tell sun eater, she continued, her tone matter-of-fact. he will know you are strong hunter.

it was the closest thing to praise she would offer. her ears flicked, and she gave a brief nod toward the carcass. help me drag it back. we will skin it together.

the work was never finished—but he had proven himself today. that mattered.

this lanzadoii girl surprised him. she seemed intelligent, and little of what veksar said phased her. he did not know sun eater well, but the two seemed to have opposite impressions. fire and ice, yin and yang.

man and woman.

and veksar was typical. his gaze, albeit infrequently, occasionally wandered to suliya's body. her toned, slender hips. her long and muscular limbs, the way her muscles flexed when she moved. the bones beneath, jutting out in some areas and hidden beneath pads of sinew and thick fur in others. the feathery hair along her nape.

his eyes lingered perhaps too long one time before he ripped himself away completely, averting his gaze then to the ground and the spilled innards that oozed crimson into the snow. it sobered him well enough.

you're not half bad yourself, he smirked. i could say all the same things about you.

veksar rose to his feet yet again with a soft grunt. he still avoided looking at her. how'd you end up in saatsine, suliya? did you come here for family?

suliya watched him, the way his eyes slid over her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. she always noticed.

but she said nothing. men were men. lanzadoii men were hunters; their gaze always wandered, seeking what was next. it was their way. and she had long accepted it.

his compliment drew a flicker of amusement to her face, but it was brief, passing like a shadow. her attention returned to the caribou’s body, the warmth still slowly seeping into the snow beneath it. a life taken. a necessity.

i have always followed lanzadoii, she answered, voice even. my mother was muradoii. my father lanzadoii. he forbade me the glacier—wanted me to be her daughter alone. but i chose him. his ways. our ways.

she bent down, teeth sinking into the hide, pulling back the skin with practiced ease to better reveal the meat beneath. her muscles flexed beneath her pale coat as she worked, though her voice remained steady, distant.

sun eater is my cousin. i came because it was time. i will hunt for him. and for saatsine.

finally, she looked at him, meeting his eyes with her own, sharp and cool as the snow.

family is the herd. we move with them. we bleed with them. you are part of that now.

her tone softened, if only slightly.

he listened.

it shocked him to hear how complex it all sounded. he'd never heard the name muradoii before and it perhaps showed on his face. but he was curious all the same, an earnest, coy look spreading across his features as suliya continued to detail the caribou hunter life. he'd considered them savages until now.

he still kind of did. all except for her.

maybe this was what morwenna thought she saw in sun eater.

i'm no lanzadoii man, veksar countered. he clicked his tongue between his teeth and made a tch noise. saatsine, sure. but my family's... fucked up. not like yours.

he was a man most women should want to stay away from.

he mimicked the work she did upon the carcass the best he could, though his cuts were much messier. your parents ever let you talk to outsider boys? or would daddy not be very fond of me?

suliya snorted, shaking her head as she worked the knife of her teeth through thick sinew.

my father would have killed you, she said, voice light but truthful. he did not want me near the glacier. said men like you would make me soft.

her gaze flicked to him, cool eyes dancing with amusement.

but i am not my father. i am saatsine now. free to take to mate who i want.

there was a subtle weight behind her words—both defiance and pride. she had chosen this life. no man, not even sun eater, had forced it upon her.

besides, she teased, nudging him with her shoulder, you are not so dangerous. not yet.

soft? now veksar too was laughing, though his smile fell away as quickly as it had appeared. if it makes you feel any better, i don't think i've softened you at all since this afternoon.

something between them, a mutual sense of being guarded, was beginning to fall away.  conversation felt strangely easy considering the common tongue was likely not suliya's first language. it was freeing. like he could breathe for the first time in weeks.

he pulled back a layer of skin to reveal supple pads of yellow fat clinging to the caribou's muscle. his mouth watered and he almost felt guilty for it. this wasn't his food — not at first, at least.

his gaze found suliya again. she teased him and even went so far as to touch him, her strong shoulder pressing against his for a fleeting moment, and he felt something warm stir and awaken within his chest.

no, not until i get you alone, he purred. but i bet you'd like to find that out for yourself.

suliya snorted, shaking her head as she leaned into her work, peeling sinew from bone with precision that spoke of years spent mastering this craft.

you wish, wild man, she teased, her voice low, playful—yet carrying the sharp edge of a woman who knew her worth. her eyes flicked up to meet his, glinting with challenge, with amusement.

the press of his shoulder had not gone unnoticed. nor had the warmth in his tone. but suliya was not so easily won.

i don’t need to be alone with you to know you’d be a lot of talk and very little bite. she smirked, tongue brushing over her teeth as she glanced down at the fat he’d uncovered.

but maybe i’ll let you prove me wrong one day.

and with that, she went back to work, though the curve of her lips betrayed her enjoyment.

veksar grunted and chuckled in response, his head slowly shaking side to side. whatever helps you sleep at night, caribou girl.

the silence between them was comfortable. veksar did his best to mimic her movements, the way she sliced, how she chose to dissect the meat. his practice seemed rough and sloppy by comparison.

she was too good for him, and he knew it.

and yet...

can i see you again sometime, suliya?

her head tilted, just slightly. the question hung there between them, weightless and heavy all at once. for a moment, she only looked at him, as if trying to decide whether he was serious or merely jesting.

then, wordless, suliya gave a slow nod. brief. curt. enough.

without another glance, she turned, flicking her tail as she padded off through the snow, leaving only the faintest ghost of a smile behind her.