Frostfire Ridge the two of us,

Seeing the woman's tension as it crept up over her fawn shoulders like a shawl of wariness and hearing the unspoken threat that escaped around the fox's limp form, Imaq merely dipped her golden crown submissively and began to toe her way backwards from the other. Women of Nunaat were taught from a young age to make themselves smaller and insignificant, less threatening -- not worthy of a challenge or violence. She implemented this, lowering her gaze as she continued to creep away without turning her back on the she-wolf lest she attack from behind. Bit by bit, she became less visible until she seemed to have melded with the woodwork of the trees entirely. 

Only when she had slipped back into the foliage and could no longer make out the stranger -- when she knew that the other huntress could no longer see or hear her as well -- did the shaman whirl away on feathered paws. Grateful that the woman hadn't lunged outright, at least, though she found herself growing weary of the stigma her blood brought.