Wapun Meadow in the way you're walking,

it was tvar who answered her call, and she watched his dark form draw closer towards her, a once still tail slowly developing a sway, curled above her back and swishing. her nickname rolled of his tongue fairly well, but part of her ached as a result of not sharing her title. the name she had earned with her survival: nanuralaaq. perhaps she would, in due time. and maybe she would share her birth name, too. the one that had sprouted like a thin flower from her very birth ; her very introduction to the world.

but that could wait. instead, she said: piqsiq' nuvu', almost a term of endearment, now, and accepted his wolfish embrace. if anything, rala furthered it, burying her nose and her muzzle into the fur upon his neck - drinking in his scent, akin to how one would with wine. when he pulled away, her dawn-hued gaze would settled upon his own, of which seemed to shift in the sun. she could have sworn that the night they walked together, they looked an almost hazel-green. now, they shone like the sky above them, a striking blue. nanuralaaq had to be careful to not get lost in such a gaze.

smiling, now, she flicked her tail. we are hunting, her sentence came with a leaders conviction, as if those three words could command armies, bring forth wars, or mend peace. she would walk closer to bring her tail across his chest before assuming a place besides him. i have settled on deer, but then, when she looked up at the man besides her, tall, indestructible, almost, her eyes shone with something different: something innately feminine, searching his expression carefully. you think...? yes? no?