Dragoncrest Cliffs kveld

What she had not mentioned, however, was her pack prior to Tikal. The memory of the brutal end of it all alone brings a shudder to her spine, but a faint grin finds its way to her face and lifts her chin. Thank you, Chacal, you're very kind, she shakes her head a little, downy ears pressing flush to the sides of her skull. Saying her name felt so informal, but what else was there to call her? Kukulkaan was ajaw, so what is she? The heat prickles at her cheeks, and she's unsure whether it's from the midsummer rays or her own embarrassment.
The offer — or what sounds like an offer — is startling, somewhat; Chacal is not suspicious of her, nor demanding of respect. She commandeers it with ease, and trusts Maleah enough to offer her a place in their cliffside home. Lips parted, she sucks in a breath, taking a glance at the foliage around her. Already, she can see roots she can make use of, berries to study, leaves that would make the perfect paste. That alone is enough to persuade her.
But the use of the word family melts her fully.
Softened lemon gaze meets the golden glow of Chacal's. If you think I'd-- I'd be useful, here, she all but beams. I'd be delighted.