Nova Peak β

Ayovi stops, silver shoulders pulling taut, tensed in wait and listening for that wild music. Again hearing nothing but the quake of leaves and Skorpa’s snuffling. Disquiet sets a muted bound upon her hunger, though she had not taken a true meal since the hind, and the northerner had only fed himself on the meager bear-meat which the huntress had refused.
She lags behind, staring up at the vast, pinnacle with dissolving spirit. It was beautiful. It was empty. Lonely.
Deer scent goads her senses but Ayovi cannot bring herself to trail it. Skorpa whisks ahead, warrior’s body conforming to a hunter’s amble. Is this where they part? He’d done what she’d asked of him, led her safely to the white mountain. She approaches with a low croon and draws beside the northman, studying him a moment in the serene solitude before angling her body back toward the foothills, hoping it is enough to convey her intentions.