Dawnlark Plains Nɨ paa nɨ’a

silatuyok’s ears perked, pale head lifting slightly at the mention. there was a flicker of something tender behind her feral stare—faint, but warming like the first silver cast of moonlight after cloud.
i am of the moon's moiety, she hummed with a breath of pride, thumping her tail once to the ground behind her. i am moon-sky girl. nishkaw’tep. my mother’s name.
her words came slow, careful in broken common, but she did not mind the time it took to shape them. this was a joy. the kind that softened her usually stoic mask.
spirits loud, yes, she nodded once, firmly. when wind move strange. when owls fly low. when... snow falls in wrong time. she looked toward the sky, ears tilting. they speak.
she turned back to ayovi, and this time, there was a real smile there. toothless. trusting.
safe place? she said, with a low grunt of approval. maybe... i help? for herbs. for watch. then, after a beat, in earnest:
you are... like cousin. from far.