Larksong Grotto Warflower

some pp to keep the story moving, but please let me know if not ok, I'm happy to make changes <3

She and Skorpa were like passing ships.  Weeks in the cache had almost made strangers of them.
Ayovi was no saint. She longed for home and her husband, and once checking Sun Eater’s lacerations, had set off on the journey north into Winsook with an intention of intercepting her norseman.
His blood-trail leads not up the mount but down into the high-walled grotto, where he questions an injured stranger. Ayovi pushes into the dell with just as much caution as her husband, attending the scene with a wary approach that finds parity between help and chase. It is not until she scents the cub bundled into his side that the huntress presses closer, chancing warning growls to reach with the immediacy of a healer who shed all other identities.
The pup is starving. “Where is the mother? Where are the others?” She asks the man, only then scenting his allegiance to Saatsine.
The cub is too young— far too young to survive without milk. That she even lives this long is a blessing Ayovi cannot risk. Her voice rises in desperation for @Moon Runner as she makes to gather the infant from the man, to tuck them against her own breast until the naneka can arrive.
“Skorpa, the stash in our den for this man. Ved ikke hvad han har brug for, medbring alt.” Her ears pin. “@Aspa. @Ulfric,” she snaps to the silent watchers, “help Skorpa. Hjælp.”
Cradled between chest and paw Ayovi rocks her back and forth, attempting to stimulate the tiny mouth with featherlight licks. “Please, please latch, asti'i.”