Larksong Grotto what gods desire

“Mand-barn lave vrede jeg vælger kriger husbond over ham.” Ayovi lifts her chin, watching Faust’s retreat with a crease in her muzzle. Their history was far more complicated than even the declaration would suggest. A tail strikes at the air’s ice. Too long had Faust and his kin aimed their barbs at Skorpa, who had the grace to disregard their taunts.
But for how much longer? Ayovi desired to sink her own fangs into the kaan’s pompous tail-tip— or perhaps to free him of another appendage.
She smirks and returns gaze to Aspa. Now the traveller woman would have some idea of what spectacles plagued the north.
“@Skorpa Den hvide kæbe hans guder også din,” the huntress explains before she turns and with a chin ushers the seer to trail her into the alpine wood.