Duskfire Glacier If I could begin to be

Looking for new peeps hehe @Dione, @Tikigak, @Satori (and those she hasn't threaded with!)

the day was young, but keshka’s work had already begun.
she crouched low beneath a twisted cedar, the rabbit limp between her paws. dew still clung to the grass, cool against her skin, but her focus was sharp and unwavering. careful jaws pinched at the edge of the pelt—she worked with practiced ease, separating hide from flesh with short, efficient tugs.
the hare had been young. quick, but not quick enough.
its fur peeled back in strips, clean and soft, and keshka laid it flat across a nearby stone to dry. her claws, slick with the warmth of the morning’s hunt, flexed once before returning to the task. there was no waste here—meat for the belly, fur for the den, bone for trade.
above, the wind stirred the canopy. she did not look up.
only once the rabbit was fully stripped did she pause, licking her bloodied paw. her eyes lifted to scan the tree line. not for danger.
for another meal.

Dione was often an efficient worker, but rather than her usual hunts this morning had been spent walking. It was a chance to stretch her legs, get a lay of the land. In a way she was just being lazy.

Spotting a woman ahead, Dione gave a quiet 'woof' in greeting. She was a hunter, that much was obvious from how her eyes intently watched the treeline. For birds, she guessed. Dione had never been much good for catching birds. But should the other be looking for help, some practice never hurt.

Not if you did it well, at least.

késhka looked up at the sound, ears twitching slightly, the rabbit's limp body still cradled beneath one paw. blood painted the edge of her jaw, bright against the pale scruff of her throat, but her expression was relaxed—friendly, even. there was something easy in the way she moved, confident without needing to show it, like the work of skinning the kill was just another quiet task in a long, practiced morning.
her eyes found the white woman’s face, sharp and knowing, but not unkind. the 'woof' had caught her attention, and she responded with a soft hum of acknowledgment.
you’re not bad at sneaking up on someone, késhka offered, lips quirking as she wiped the blood from her chin with the back of her wrist. but you scared off the birds.
her tone was warm, teasing, and she nudged the rabbit aside with a paw before rising to her feet, stretching like a cat before motioning toward the trees with a flick of her head.
still want to try for one? i could use a break from rabbits. a smile now, real and open.

The woman seemed friendly enough, and unbothered by the scare she had given the birds too. How pleasant!

The drop of a pine needle could scare the birds. They never go far. She spoke with a smile, tail waving high. If you're willing to play teacher, I wouldn't mind a hunt. Bird's have never been my area of expertise I fear.

The fleet-footed flying things had always been difficult for her, despite her skill with far larger, tougher creatures. Maybe it was because she and the caribou were an even match, both tough enough to push the other down. Birds however left Dione at a disadvantage; her usual strategy didn't work, her titaness build was of no use with them. They required you to be a bit more clever; and while Dione certainly was, they escaped her all the same.

Could I ask your name? It seemed something worth knowing here. Trotting forward, she took her chance inspecting the strangers scent.

keshka, came the velvet reply, smooth and simple, like a dagger passed under the table. her voice carried something edged in it—humor, perhaps, or something sharper. but her smile was warm, easy, like she'd known the white woman in another life and they'd once hunted side by side.
her brown-tipped tail flicked once, measured. friendly.
predators could be friendly, too.
eyes of a darker sea slid over the woman’s form as she stepped forward, catching the bulk and grace of her stride. not built for birds, no. but keshka didn’t mind that. everyone had their specialty—hers just happened to be... everything else.
you? she prompted, head tipping to the side with a little smirk.
a pause, then her gaze flicked up toward the branches, where a finch chattered its opinion at them both.
you’re in luck. i play teacher just fine.
and she was already thinking of how they'd flush the birds. how she'd teach the white woman to snare a wing before it even thought of flying.