Silverlight Terrace idaqaĝiĝulaxt ⨳

The doe followed her matriarch with a quick step, her strides short and eyes kept forward. Akaagigan sat astride her shoulders as a jockey might sit astride a prize horse, contenting himself with the leaves of mint she had tucked into her ruff before she left the ulaq this morning.

Her eyes strayed towards her anaa when she spoke.

I saw them, but I admit, I never got the chance to speak to them.