Jade Fern Grove give me that secret hush i must yes i do need [m]

He said some more words in the language she did not understand, but she understood his smile and his demeanor; if there was anything that transcended verbal language, it was the words that were spoken with the body. His tone was light and jocular, not at all hinting at the frustration some wolves might have felt watching another sacrifice a meal right on the cusp of winter; he also mentioned the word “I” quite often, which was the only word that she recognized, and wondered what he was saying about himself. Pompous bastard.

Isleña was fearless, if anything, and did not shy away from the chance to converse more with the man who so loved himself. She referred back to their only common ground. “Are pretty,” she restated, gesturing again to the deer who were long-gone and safe away from the wolves’ domain. Her eyes, twinkling with something akin to fire, flashed back to his. “You more,” she chimed, knowing that her meaning would be understood despite her choppy syntax and heavy accent. The banshee laughed a little, as women who were not Luks were expected to be gentle and demure and not so forward, so she must pretend to be ashamed or embarrassed. She was not, of course, but it was part of the show.

“You are hunt?” The chocolate dusted woman inquired, hoping to steer their interaction a bit more. Isleña liked being in control; perhaps she could entice the man into accruing a meal for her, which she would then salvage and bring back to her family, of course.