Nova Peak Pärry

It is so rare to feel instantaneous ease, but Vermouth’s warm eyes ask her to trust him. And somehow she does, comforted by this steadiness, perhaps because she does not sense in him a great desire to prove his superiority, as so many of these northern-clans do.
“I live on the mountain with my husband,” Ayovi explains, briefly wondering at the way his eyes linger.
The mountain wasn’t quite a pack, was it? A pack insinuates rank, and Ayovi only wanted to lay claim to the land so her children had a place they could own. She did not want to lead others, did not want to guide or set expectations. And perhaps, most selfishly, she wanted Skorpa all to herself.
She wanted to live peacefully— and away.
Her eyes turn for the girl, nosing so fondly within his nape. It touches some newly ingrained part of the huntress and she softens, taking a step towards the pair, “it’s all right. I wont hurt you; either of you.” She is too quickly endeared. “Are you hungry? We have fresh meat upon the rise. You are welcome to fill your bellies and rest.” Her mouth quirks into a smile them, aiming gently towards Vermouth.