Nova Peak same words

A week’s worth of thick, murky clouds had finally parted somewhat as the day came to its end. What little of the sky that poked through was painted pink and violet by the setting sun. The warmth the last of the rays provided was welcome on her aching bones.
Gwyneth could not remember the last time she’d gotten a full day’s rest. Since fleeing from their tribe her husband insisted they keep moving. Gwyneth obeyed (she always did) but not without protest (she always protested). Her quiet objections grew louder with each day, each week that they aimlessly roamed. Her anger soon became too much to contain and she screamed at her husband that morning. He screamed back at her. This inevitably became a long verbal battle that could be be heard from the mountain’s peak. When the dust settled her husband proclaimed he’d go off to hunt. He left her alone, growling beneath his breath as he stormed away.
These petty arguments were routine between them. As grating as they were, Gwyneth much enjoyed the peace the absence of her husband provided. She’d gotten the rest she so desperately craved. And when she had woken from her slumber that evening she was in good enough spirits to tidy the makeshift den for her mate. She dusted out the dead leaves and nettles. Disposed of whatever bugs inhabited the little cave. Perhaps, she thought, she’d even make bedding for him once she was finished.