Qeya River teach

suliya didn’t acknowledge his words, but she took the lead, her body shifting into something sharper, something predatory. the change was effortless, a fluid transition from woman to hunter, and as she moved, she expected veksar to follow without question.

she maneuvered through the frostbitten tundra with sure-footed ease, her senses attuned to the herd before them. caribou are not elk, she murmured under her breath, her voice just loud enough for him to catch. they do not scatter the same. they do not fear the same.

they were tireless travelers, moving in endless migration across the ice, but they had weaknesses—patterns. weaknesses she had spent her life learning, memorizing, exploiting.

she moved ahead of him, pausing only to test the wind, then pressed herself low. we break the weak from the herd, she instructed, her gaze flickering to him briefly. but not with speed. not with force. they must not feel it coming.

her eyes sharpened, locking onto a young bull near the edge of the herd, limping slightly, falling behind the others. perfect.

suliya flicked her tail once—a signal. cut him off from the side. push him towards me.

and then she was gone, slipping ahead, already positioning herself for the kill.