Dawnlark Plains you're a poem of mystery,

lyrics taken from requiem on water · imperial mammoth

and she would not stop moving. the blood of snowpelt and waterdiver peoples coursed within her, powering a small body to be an unstoppable force. and although she did not appear to be much of anything at all, she had tackled her fair share of caribou and thick-skulled oafs alike. kurauviatu man came to mind. and so she would walk in search of a husband and a better life. with high standards but careful expectations, as she knew...

...one should not get too cocky.

thick sheet of white laid upon the ground, now. woman found herself murmuring, humming a small tune: sukkaittumik, aujakkut tasikkut aujakkut, tukiliarluni qitianut, seemingly motivated by her trek through what could be thought of as a lake of snow. paws sunk deep into the soft falling of wintertime. taaqtuanguniqpaamik imarmik, nani iqiasugunnarmangaatta. she had always thought of it as a love song.

itinngajut qaanganiittut, rala kept singing as she walked, her paws moving in rythmn with her voice, now. carefully plucking notes from her throat, singing a song her aunts had sung. one that, when younger, she had thought to be of affection. but her perception of it seemed to slowly change as she continued: takunnaqtut qummuattitausimajunik, inuusiqarunniiqtunik, marruliarisimajattinnik ataani. a frown upon pale features.

but the next line would come to her with song-singers ease. ammalu taliit niutitillu ataaniikkaluaqtillugit, nagligusungniq siutinni tusaqsauniaqpuq, tamarmik jagaijausimaliqtillugit tilligausimaliqtillugillu, perhaps she had been right in her first estimation. this song, from the words that rolled of her tongue, was that of love. and so she smiled, now. her feet paused as she assessed her surroundings, careful.

nalligijara suli taikaniinniaqtuq. the melody would leave her maw. she stood, here, on the plains. surveying, watching for any sign of movement, any deer or caribou or rabbit ; a morsel, a meal. tail swayed back and forth, black nose drew in scents.

the hare dangled limp in faust's maw, its warmth seeping through its fur to his teeth. it had been an easy kill, one of many he’d snared in recent days for ayovi. a fat wife was a happy wife—or so he convinced himself as he made his way back toward the makeshift den.

but then, a whisper of scent curled through the crisp air, foreign and enticing. it carried with it the musk of winter and something distinctly feminine. he halted mid-step, ears swiveling toward the distant melody that followed. a voice—soft, rhythmic, with a cadence that stirred something restless in him.

faust lowered the hare to the snow, nostrils flaring as he tested the breeze. it wasn’t ayovi’s scent. no, this one was unfamiliar, laced with the peculiar allure of the unknown. he moved toward it instinctively, broad paws crunching through the snow, his head lifting to scan the expanse.

and then, he saw her.

she was small, but there was nothing fragile in her movements. her paws wove a rhythm with her song, sinking deep into the snow but never faltering. her pale coat blended with the frosted landscape, her dark nose cutting a sharp contrast. faust stopped a short distance away, his emerald gaze narrowing as he tried to make sense of the words spilling effortlessly from her tongue.

it wasn’t a language he understood, but there was a familiarity in its music. similar, yet strange. a shared root, perhaps, branching off into a dialect he couldn’t decipher. still, the intent in her voice—soft and persistent—needed no translation.

he let out a low chuff, testing her attention, his chest rumbling with the deep timbre of his voice: who you?

the words left him in athabaskan, a tongue she might grasp if luck favored them both. his gaze lingered on her, assessing, guarded but curious, the hare forgotten behind him in the snow.

rabbit scent came towards her, now, followed by the blood-smell of a kill. rala's ears rose, then, searching for the sound of snow crunching underfoot, for she became innately, instinctively aware that she was no longer alone. fur stood on end, as if slowly puffing up to make the polar-cub appear larger. melody lost to the wind.

words met her ears, then, and she turned in a simple, quick movement, albeit not without a moment of hesitation. words she did not know, though vaguely familiar, near, now, in presence, though far away in memory, as if heard in passing. it was in common that she would speak, for if this man knew the tongue of her song, he would have spoken it. i do not speak your words, she would murmur, ultimately deciding to draw closer.

snow-dipped paws were careful upon the crunching carpet, navigating with a learnt ease. she approached somewhat tentatively, however. although not shy, she did not know this man, nor the scent of a stranger that stuck to his pelt like burrs. for she, too, was guarded, and although she did not have all that much to lose, she still had her life.

his pelt reminded her of a distant past ; of kurauviatu man. she assessed his dark hairs with care, though the blonde and cream hues that painted his sizeable body - of which she studied with little shame - gave her a sense of relief. that, and the confidence that exuded from the way in which he stood. this man was not a coward, that much she knew to be true. well-worn, she thought. pale eyes would flicker to his own, curious.

you are from around here, aallajuq? a hum accompanied her words.