Larksong Grotto Ankärr

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home. bigsky. no vildoske. he repeated them in his mind, but it was the way she interacted with his rudimentary drawing that made him somehow realize. or at least assume. perhaps she had come from the rolling lands of grass in the same way he had been born in the snowiest jags of the highest ridge.

what did the bison represent to her? skorpa could not ask, and his lips tightened in a brief frustration at their inability to communicate. he remembered that the drengr who had fought used two tongues, their northern own and then a harsher speech.

it seemed she spoke the same.

his eyes traced over those rough patches on her paws. it did not seem as though she had taken the medicine, only used it upon his belly.

more was able to be made, but he did not move to do so.

finally a grunt sounded. he put a bearish paw against his chest. "skorpa. skor-pa." with half a mind to speak the word said by the warrior, eye-oh-vee, he held his tongue for a wiser moment.

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