The Sunspire the prom

They were met with silence—the edge of borders and looking outward. Sialuk did not wish to linger to determine who now held reign over the sand-cloaked lands and Argent agreed it felt moot at this point—if her friends were no longer here, there was little sway or need to hold knowledge of a pack that was far enough from them.

So when she motioned for them to continue, Argent did so, ensuring his larger form remained upon the side of the mysterious pack, lest a guardian finally come upon them. They walked, and she was silent for now—his own gaze and thoughts straying to the canyon, unable to shake the feeling that something tumultuous would come upon them.

It was then she spoke, and the man offered an arched brow as he listened, his gaze then studying her pretty features. “I would seek to pay your price as well as your anang’s, if only for a chance,” he responded to her—hesitating only momentarily on the foreign word and the way it felt on his tongue. Still—if Sialuk were to become a solid part of his present and future, he would learn her language and culture—or so he could only hope. “Anang means guardian?” A question to ease her in the conversation she now held with him—though his raindrop was not a woman who balked at such topics.