Duskfire Glacier where do you go? oh, where do you stay?

"Aya," the halfbreed agreed in a wisp of her natal tongue, mirthful eyes crinkling at the corners with a bashful smile as the Gamma nipped at one canine aud in camaraderie. The cur allowed her own splotchy, marbled nose to reach out and brush against the other healer -- catching a whiff of crisp herb-scent and something softer, almost floral. (The she-dog had never smelled citrus before and was only vaguely familiar with the idea of fruit, thus she failed to pinpoint the odor of peaches in the wren's silky peltage.)

"What Iana doing?" Imaq questioned lightly, glancing to the other woman as they strolled slowly through the snow -- not quite patrolling but not quite idle either. There was a gentle implication there beneath her words, one typical of her speech, that hinted at hesitancy -- hoping to let Iana know that she needn't answer if it was something personal.