Duskfire Glacier where the horned one sleeps

faust huffed, amusement flickering in his sharp green eyes as he pushed himself to his feet.
you're full of good ideas, aren't you?
his voice carried the barest edge of approval, a rare thing, but not insincere. larksong grotto was a smart choice. neutral ground. controlled. and if winsook wanted blood, faust would make damn sure it was not theirs.
his muscles rolled beneath his dark coat as he stretched, readying himself. satori’s jest earned a short exhale of breath—not quite a laugh, but close enough.
then let’s get them one.
he turned toward the herd, eyes locking onto the calves, their legs still too unsure beneath them. an easy hunt. a necessary one.
his gaze flicked to satori once more, lingering just a moment longer. she would travel. he would ensure it was not alone.
without another word, faust moved, the conversation fading into the silence of the hunt.