Duskfire Glacier these are all the harder words you have to know

Fresh warmth suffused her wheaten cheeks beneath a downy cover of fur, embarrassed again that she was so deeply steeped in the essence of her former clan that she found it difficult to connect or communicate with those around her. "Siqiqniq," she answered, the word a thin feather caught on the tide of a spring gale -- soft and curling with some secret as it escaped her. The piebald, knowing no other way, gestured to the light that reached them from the cavern's maw: "Light. Siqiqniq sleeps when Taqqiq rises." 

The shepherd continued on in the sparrow's shadow, gilded dome twisting and swiveling from the room's entrance as she too surveyed the area they'd discovered before lagoon-water optics slid back to Iana with the barest hint of another unspoken question. Would this suffice for her purposes?