Redtail Rise [m] Sīkärr

It always takes her a moment; an extra few seconds to parse the danish in her mind. And as she does, she grins widely, lids closing in rapture of the lightest touches.
“Vi kan feste. Vi kan bygge haller. Men du må ikke dø, jeg forbyder det.”  She becomes intensely aware of everything about him then. The weight of his furs on her spine. The wilderness in his breath; old blood from old kills. Fetid. Dirty. A tongue clicks against her teeth. Language is beginning to open up a greater understanding between them, and now the huntress can liberate her questions, if only she knows the words. 
“Hvor gammel er du?” She asks, eyes opening on his.   “Har du familie?” She tenses then, eyes slipping over her fullness tucked between both their bodies.
“Har du nogensinde gjort… dette – før?”