Hoshor Plains pretty like the wind

The hunt would be soon, she knew, and she was anticipating it as much as she dreaded it. Her eyes watched the milling bison, one of her ears swiveled to face the others.

Then, she caught sight of a red tail, and her heart leapt as much as it dropped. The crowd cleared, and she couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed to see it was Njord, familiar to her as Rhaegal’s cousin, or something like that. She waved him over with a flag of her tail, offering him a little smile.

You are Njord, yes? She could see the resemblance, somewhat.