Wapun Meadow forgo the parable

she did not like his slimey words, his smirk, nor his meaningless apologies. the next time she met him, she would be putting his tail where his mouth is, and that was that. he took his exit, then, and the regina's words were like music to nanuralaaq's ears. she stood straight, now. yes, came a nod of her head, somewhat amused at the saying 'fuck that creep', and making a note to adopt it into her lexicon of the commonfolk. as ox hunters would say, iqittiniq, an almost-pride among her face as she said it.

lifting her dark nose to the air, then, rala noticed the faintness of deer upon the breeze, and so she would begin moving, looking back to ameline when she would say: deer came through here, ah, few hours ago, and returned her gaze forwards, searching for tracks, hairs, or any disturbed shrubbery that could speak of their return.

as a huntress, her teeth yearned to be sharpened. to be bloodied.