Mount Apikuni dark vine

suliya stood silent among the discussion, the weight of her understanding evident in the solemnity of her gaze. she had no questions for sun eater—she knew the ways of their kind. she had lived them.

the woman's voice carried a conviction that suliya respected but did not share. the saatsine way was hard, unrelenting. it was their truth, one written in blood, bone, and breath. suliya’s own nieces and nephews had been left behind, claimed by the journey or the relentless teeth of the wild. she knew this path. it was cruel. it was survival.

sun eater’s irritation simmered in the air, unspoken but tangible. her sharp eyes flicked to him, catching the faint shift of his weight, the restraint in his posture. she had seen this before—a chieftain defending not just his ways, but his worth.

she didn’t speak, though her presence spoke volumes. instead, her gaze lingered on him, heavy with doubt—not of him, but of the ways they clung to as their own. her expression softened, not with submission, but with the quiet, unwavering resilience of one who had endured.

this was their life. their way.