Duskfire Glacier mahtar

As if his summons had been anticipated, the Kaan’s response was swift. No hesitation, no wasted breath. Good. There was much the wraith sought to know, and only once his questions were met with truth would he offer his own in return.
Lowering his head in a measured salute, he spoke, his voice as even as the glacier itself. „Kaan.”
His pale gaze, sharp as a blade’s edge, lingered upon the dark sovereign. „These Caribou Hunters; who are they?” He did not believe them to be mindless killers; even beasts had purpose. He knew little of them beyond whispers in the wind: nomads without land, without titles, tethered only to the herds they pursued. But perhaps they were not speaking of the same hunters.
A pause. The ghost shifted, settling upon the frostbitten stone, his presence deliberate yet not intrusive. „What drove them to strike?”