Nova Peak ❇ Sóóts'ii

---

silatuyok’s pale ears twitch, a light wind brushing through her fur like breath from the gods themselves. her eyes remain low for a moment longer, though a small smile—soft and fleeting—grows at the edges of her mouth, like spring beneath snow.
yes, she murmurs, glancing once toward the half-shaped pelt beside her, then up to meet his gaze again. women have… many talent.
her voice is quiet but sure. there is no boast, only truth.
she runs a paw gently across the grain of fur. furs… herbs… words, too. a soft laugh escapes her, breath more than sound. sometimes.
there is a pause, not from discomfort but thought. she considers the question not just as a task, but a thing deeper. making is… calming. useful. for warmth, for trade. her eyes flicker back to him, steady now.