Dawnlark Plains Nɨ paa nɨ’a

“We would welcome you, Silatuyok,” a smile spreads up her face, trickling through her body with an excitement that finds the end of an ivory tail-tip. “I wish to erect altars, and a sanctum upon the mount; a place we can work in communion with the spirits, where all may come to listen for them.” Rising to her paws, a nose trails the arc of her shoulder, eyes finding her collection of fireweed before moving to the thickening trees beyond.
“But I must stay in the lowlands for now. An army will soon march this way, and I expect they will draw blood.” Her ears splay. She gathers a step closer to the woman, directing her gaze into the North.
“You see the peak disappearing in the clouds? That is home. That is Winsook. Go there; rest. Take your fill from our stock. If any give you trouble, say Ayovi has sent you.”