Dawnlark Plains please don't dress in black when you're at his wake

silatuyok emerged from the frost-brushed grasses like a low wind, her coat touched by stone and bone. the dark-coated woman was already there, the earth soured faintly by bile and unrest, but silatuyok did not mind it. did not fear it.
she approached slowly, head level with her shoulders, her tail waving with ease—a show of softness, of no threat. her ears turned, pricked forward in quiet interest, and her pale, pale eyes studied the shape of the woman as if trying to place her scent among old ones in memory.
a soft chuff rose in her throat—breathy. she made no move to close the space entirely, but hovered there like a moth drawn to ember.
if the stranger fled, she would not chase. if she stayed, silatuyok might press her muzzle gently to her shoulder, snuff at her fur to drink in her scent. but for now, she only stood and waited, calm as frozen riverbed.