Her leader was perturbed, and rightfully so — the lynx's close presence was a constant threat to his children, and to their food supply, quickly growing precious as the days turned colder. And so she halted a few paces from the rugged Sveijarn, and searched the horizon with her gaze, the air with her nostrils.
In silence she stood alongside him, lips parting only to answer Njal's question: "Once. Danica and I followed it into the wood, but the pestilence evaded us." Her eyes turned upon him presently. "Surely the brute has a den somewhere. If we were able to locate the place, and slaughter his progeny, he would have no reason to stay upon the glacier." Her voice was quiet, suggestive; perhaps the man would mull her idea over in his head.
In time, Njal rejoined, and Hatshepsut spent several minutes outlining a few of her grander schemes for the capture of the cat.
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