Rising Sun Valley peregrine

suliya nodded at his words, the motion slow and deliberate, her gaze steady on him as though grounding him against the weight of his own admission. the hum that followed was soft and low, carrying the gentle cadence of thought, a sound born of reflection rather than response.

the sharadoii have their traditions, she murmured, her voice quiet but firm, and the muradoii have our own. she shifted slightly, the fur along her shoulders rippling with the movement as the autumn wind whispered between them. 

her icy gaze softened, catching the sorrow that lingered in his cherry-red eyes. i hope she thrives. she said after a pause, the words warm but deliberate. she knew too well how illness in another could leave an ache in the heart of the ones who loved them.

a moment passed in silence, broken only by the distant bellows of caribou. then, with a subtle motion, suliya shook the fur around her neck, revealing the intricate trinket she wore. it swayed gently with her movements, a pattern of knotted teeth, wolf furs, and caribou dewclaws woven together with purpose. this is mine, she said simply, her voice steady, but there was something deeper in the way she spoke—an unspoken understanding of what these small pieces of the past could mean.