Sunset Valley Tspēsh

So suddenly does the sage manifest, her honeyed coats in a tousle but the amber eyes bright and knowing and seemingly lit from within.
“Hej, Aspa,” comes Ayovi in greeting, though the sorceress’ own takes an ominous tone and the huntress fights apprehension from appearing in her face. She pads only two steps closer, and from the mount of her shoulders pulls a pair of fisher pelts in mixed hues of auburn, presenting them to the northwoman.
“Jeg vil vi ses. Jeg har medbring pels for dine huler. Gør det godt bosættelse her?”
It was not only why she had come. Since meeting the woman in the gorge she could not cut questions from her mind.