Dawnlark Plains Tûnuck

For a moment the field is wordless, each tribesman exerting their own silent force. Ayovi feels her own presence centered within it, small yet solid.
She follows the chieftain with her eyes, wondering, watching his moves with intrigue and an even disposition. “You are welcome on the hunt plains,” and in silence does she say no further.
Then to the snowy face of Tuhin, “tell Faust if he wishes for skabe, he may speak with my husband here.” Yes, she knew of his leader, of the glacier, and if the silver man explored the hollow runnels of his home he would scent her there still beneath the glacial ice.
Husband. Eyes level a look to Sun Eater. Then the huntress departs, pursuing an eastward scent-trail.