Duskfire Glacier pilukak

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From three to two, their numbers dropped. The one woman departed, her name unspoken for the Inuk’s language was not understood, whilst the paler of the pair stayed behind. Infernos—bright but cold—locked with the woman’s own gaze, merciless with their attempts to burn right through her. The ever so faint smile that drew across her lips went unnoticed, but her voice did not; the language stood out, easily recognized. Chulyin’s ears perked with curiosity and her brows raised, whilst the rest of her body remained still. Surprised, she could only stare for a moment, the intensity of her gaze having decreased to the point where it almost seemed friendly—almost. Blinking, she refocused on the encounter and became attentive once again, skipping over her own introduction.

Before she could stop herself, the yearling shot out a harsh, “Auka.” There was a second, or perhaps even two, of silence that followed before her resolve lost traction and she took back her response. “ImmaKâ…” she murmured hesitantly. “Avaniven?” Although it was rare for southerners lacking the Inuit blood to speak any of the dialects, she needed a verbal confirmation of the woman’s lineage. Words alone, no matter how pleased she was to hear them, could not crack through her walls.

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