Larksong Grotto what gods desire

Faust teases and Ayovi hooks her brow at him in a manner that is one part amused, and the other irritated. She watches the gilt woman’s approach with a healthy dose of caution, though her wispy form does not pose a threat— no. There is no hostility in her prowl, only the huntress’ own curiosity aimed back at her. 
“Jeg er,”   and they were. Northern cubs, fathered by a norse warrior. But how could she know? Her gaze tracks the single golden eye where it sits within an angular hollow.
“Ayovi,” she introduces, though quite liking her new monicker. Her voice lightens, taking on a reverential quiet. She did not know the northern gods, only that her husband frequently referenced them in ways she did not understand. But the huntress had long believed that spirit-beings roamed upon this mount, and now she wondered if the strange woman Aspa could feel them in this act of fate. “Hører du ånd?”