Duskfire Glacier mitqiaq

faust narrows his eyes, ear flicking at the word she speaks, sharp on his tongue and sharper still in the quiet between them.
aitchuun?
he doesn't know what it means. doesn't know what weight it carries, but the way it leaves her lips—like something bitter and burnt—tells him enough. it's not for him to understand, maybe. but he watches her just the same, steady and unreadable, the way he might watch a wounded animal deciding whether to flee or bite.
don't know what that is, he rumbles low, voice rough as the stone beneath his paws.
his gaze drifts once more to the glacier, then back to her, holding her there with the same quiet authority he holds over darukaal.