Nova Peak ζ

Vores bjeg.
His words are strong. They have passion in them. He is like iron. Or ice. It occurs to the huntress that they are not so vulnerable as she fears. Skorpa knows northern ways. She had seen Faust back off. He does not desire to fight, she believes.
And the caribou chief— he spoke common. Ayovi could communicate with him.
Would they meet? In these aspects she looks to her husband. Neither of them are politically-minded. They wanted only the sanctity of their mountain. But Ayovi saw it was infeasible if they did not become their own power amidst the neighboring clans.
There is easement as she draws her cheek to Skorpa’s chest, savoring the feel of large paws in her own. Recently bathed, and already the man’s pelt festoons in blood. She feels his strength imbue within her.
“På jagtsletter.”
“I will keep watch there. Mig patruljere . See they press no further.”
She has yet to meet the man and his pregnant wife who would make a second settlement here, but already she felt it was within their responsibility to offer protection.