Dawnlark Plains you're a poem of mystery,

scare? no, rala shook her head, then, gathering her thoughts for a mere moment, perhaps two, before the words would leave her mouth: you remind me ... she begun. of two men i knew. my father, and a man who was told to court me to form ... alliances, the search for the correct common-word was a careful process. she did not wish to misstep, to explain using the wrong phrases. further, then, she would go.

you lead, like my father. chief. spoken only with purpose. and you are dark, like man of courtship. it is strange, seeing chief spirit in dark body, though her smile, the glint within her eyes spoke of something else. a faint curiosity. an edge that spoke of reluctance, and yet a continued wish to draw the man further in - or to perhaps take the dive that he was waiting for. she thought she saw something expectant within gilded eyes - or perhaps she was wrong. merely the gaze of a leader.

wolves who do not tremble in the cold? you ... snowwoman begun, the lilting rolls of a soft laughter spilling from her dark lips. ... would have enjoyed a place amongst the ox hunters, and she said this with a certainty, knowing that he, faust, in this very moment, seemed like he would have sought more power than what he could ever have had within her lineage. and yet it fascinated her anyway, thinking of him and his dark, strong figure upon the open plains.

betwixt the ocean and the mountains, paws within the snow.

you have someone in mind, she noted, then, watching the way his eyes seemed to betray his thoughts. is it the woman, thick upon your pelt? an almost teasing smile.