Larksong Grotto peace is attainable

Ayovi flanks her husband, but she does not descend. There is no reason to. She had made herself clear, and so had Faust. There was nothing more to say.
A woman is by him, bright eyed, seemingly full of hope. Perhaps if she’d seen the truth of how her baskaan treated women she would not sidle so calmly.
The huntress folds herself along a snow-clad ledge, watching Skorpa’s descent and only just making sense of the quick-spoken north tongue. She could tell from his measured gait he was still making up his own mind, as if he wasn't sure whether to humor or drive them wounded and bloody back to the glacier. That made sense to the woman bound in ice. If her husband desired violence, he would make it.
Her eyes slide over the bounty at the alpha’s back: a consolation she did not want.
Ayovi was silent.