Qeya River chirosophist

Nagruk presses forward until her chest meets Kukuvrak's shoulder, feeling the slick of blood pass between them. It was as much a final mark of authority as it was the birth of kinship; would he bare teeth against her? 

"He leads the Sun Clan, yes," her voice rumbles as a dark chin comes to rest atop his head. "I would have him father my cubs this year, if he proves well." She would like to see him raid, she thinks. Let him draw blood besides her.

But Kukuvrak's questions continue. Her jaw tightens and she pulls away sharply. "Not yet. His clan is large and fierce, with many able warriors. Without Tartok, it has been...difficult, to conquer." And difficult to assimilate, though she supposes it is in her nature to be abrasive.