Ouroboros Spine It matters not how strait the gait,

The two males came to her. Kodiak approached with dominance in his stride, and Tonravik herself reared her head upward but moved toward him, more tigress than bear for what was sure to be the last time. But another came, intercepted, and Tonravik turned to him, a snarl on her face. She wanted. She simply wanted. But she observed, in the distance, her eyes upon the two strong, sure men. One was a warrior, who had spent much of his life learning to fight. One skilled, who clearly had experience himself. Both, to be sure, distracted. Perhaps one more than the other; for Iqniq had experience here before, whereas neither she nor the brown bear had much in these areas. 

So she watched, albeit impatiently, until the very end. And when it ended, Tonravik looked to the victor, and the cold woman's blood ran hot.

She approached him in her confident swagger and did not heed the presently wilted Kodiak; instead she exposed herself to Iqniq, as much of a smoldering flame as what she had named him for.