Dawnlark Plains Tûnuck

More have come.
She cannot help it. She thinks of home. Of Ashēer, and how they were all but eradicated by the Wide Fangs who took their rivers, their kootsin, their women and children and lastly their pride.
But home is no longer Ashēer. Home is the mountain, where her sure-sword hung his arms. They would not be cowed. But the huntress is not so much a fool to confront the thick assemblage. She pursues their gathering scents along her hunt-fields, eyeing from a distance where she hunkers in sharp-blade grasses.