Emberflame Ridge Attawkǒnts

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he did not know, and watched ayovi with a solemn expression which said as much. for a long moment it was only they at their camp, watching the foliage. "jeg vil have et hjem, der er sikkert," skorpa murmured, flicking a pebble down the stonework side of their temporary settlement. "din nordmand er glad."

to punctuate, he turned toward her, palm to curved belly, pulling ayovi close for his own ravening kiss, one to wake but one to say all his love. "jeg vil have et hjem, hvor man kan se ud over landet og vide, at man er i sikkerhed."

"jeg ville bløde for sådan et hjem. jeg ville dø for det, ayovi." his turn to touch, to trace her lips with his own, to settle against the warm curve of her throat. "rensdyrjægerne, de er ved at bryde sammen. jeg ser frygt blandt dem. frygtsomme krigere arbejder på impuls."

"winsook - vores flugt - kræver, at vi bliver stærke. det kræver, at vi søger magt for fredens skyld." battleworn paw to cup pristine-pale cheekbone, claw reverent where once, once, he had threatened. "du har ret." his exhale was one of humour. "jeg lovede dig havet."

skorpa kissed her soft.

"så først skaber vi en fæstning mod ambitiøse nordboere og omvandrende rensdyrklaner."

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