Nova Peak Toquer

“Because I’m also pregnant,” her eyes smile. The wintry plume flicks as she falls into fleet step beside the shadow of Lorcan. Big Sky was brutalized and Faust had haunted her steps in the North. Wariness marked Ayovi’s approach to her own kind, but Skorpa had seen something trustworthy in this strong man. He would not have sanctioned access to the Northwood otherwise.
Hearing Lorcan’s reason, Ayovi understood it then. Their desires were the same.
“My husband is a rogue. I do not think he ever intended to claim land.” Think! So much of Skorpa remained unknown to her. “He does right by… us.” By his new wife. By his coming children. Her voice mists with adulation, the same sort of distinction she was beginning to see in Lorcan.
The huntress motions ahead to a narrow brook while the waxwings swoop and play their orderless singing beneath wide swatches of light. The air has a texture of pine and ice and she fills her lungs with its coolness.
“You should know there are rising numbers in the taiga,” a staid look measures the dark hunter. If he and his family denned here, they would also be expected to defend the North in fang.