Dawnlark Plains First dance

faust smirked, just slightly—an expression that tugged one corner of his mouth, sharp and wolfish.
i'm a good hunter, he said simply, as if that much should've been obvious from the carcass at their feet. but there was no arrogance in it, only quiet truth. the kind that came from experience, from the steady hand of a man who had hunted more than his fair share of beasts—animal and otherwise.
her words brought a short nod, approval glinting behind glacier eyes. then stay. it wasn’t a command, not quite, but it wasn’t far from one either. the idea of her vanishing back into the wilds didn’t sit right with him—not when the company she brought was sharper than most.