Noctisardor Bypass through caverns measureless to man

They notice one another around the same time. He hasn't managed to get a good look at any of the wolves from the horde despite his trailing, none except the young slave, but he did take notice of a heavy scent upon that boy that appeared to be the source of his current path. It would make sense for these creatures to carry a mix of scents, but it is this one that is always present through Tulimaq's tracking. When he comes upon her, she looks surprised but then swiftly, deviously, amused. As if this has been a trap laid out for him, and he has unwittingly sprung it.

Her greeting is met with a silent stare. He's studying her features, determining her age and her fitness, while listening to that accented voice. Tulimaq is right to assume this is not their native land; he has tracked the horde across quite a distance out of curiosity and now, faced with this woman who he percieves as their potential ruler, he is wary. But so is she — hiding behind a little game, a feigned dullness, which he accepts for the time being. Her scent is the dominant one; her mind appears to be quite sharp in contrast to the slave boy, too. Tulimaq does not trust the air she breathes.

No, he finally responds, his own voice deep and lightly accented in a different way. Different, but oddly alike. Perhaps his people's language diverged from her's, millenia ago. He does not dwell on such things right now. Tulimaq drifts closer, immitating her innocent act with his own play at ignorance — Are you a slave as well? I met a boy like you, but he had no one minding him. I do not recall his name.