Duskfire Glacier Arvīge

The baskaan is proud in his keep. He’s adapted a new gait, one of elevated persuasion. And yet the girl in ice remembers how he bit into a tree; how fear was the grand gambit to subdue her.
How it hadn’t worked.
“Ayovi,” the huntress elevates her voice, making sure it rings boldly. His title would never be her’s.  “Don’t bullshit me, Faust.” This was a pleasure for neither of them. Still, there is some humanity to him, or so she assumes. He had not tried to control her during the council; had done away with violent exhibitions. it is the only reason she stands unaccompanied, vulnerable with the bearing of new life.
Eyes like ice flick between the two; settling on evergreen.
“You don’t want commerce for your people? Fine. Makes no difference to me.  But Darukaal is not welcome to traipse uninvited on our mountain. We will retaliate.”