Nova Peak Yēodze

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new blood smeared over old, skorpa returning jubilant to the seed of their settlement with a haunch of elk. suspended by language barrier was any need to tell ayovi he had taken it off a coyote pack, retreating from some threat in the taiga to the foothills. they had surrendered their kill well enough, and he had dragged it through snow to 'clean' the meat.

skorpa expected to see ayovi at some task or another; he plainly was unprepared for how she stood upon threshold and barred entry.

he saw even the flash of her teeth and was bewildered anew until mind sorted her words. "bade?" he huffed. "vil du ikke lukke mig ind, før jeg har sprøjtet vand på mig selv?"

he was surprised and put out, and annoyed; skorpa squared his shoulders and glowered a bit at ayovi, though his eyes did not hold such a sting.

skorpa tried gently for the doorway, crooning softly at her as a suggestive light came to life in his face. such  had always, always pleased her; he teased his wife at that lintel, seeking a kiss! seeking her relent. "luk mig ind, ayovi." she smelled wonderful, almost like the first warm breaths of spring; floral spice and stonework, a slender mason standing guard at her temple.

would she soften for him? his eyes said he would pleasure her until she forgot his bloody pelt. "jeg vil bade, når floderne er smeltet." it was too cold for such nonsense, and skorpa waited in near entitlement for her to at last smile and move aside.

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