The Sunspire whale rib

the march is not slow. daa’ka lingers mostly within the back of the group, ready with fangs to fend off any assailants that might trail them.
but silence in the distance was a salve he didn’t know he needed. no one, to his eye or ear or nose, followed. and that was best; the lanzadoii spirit burned harsh in chest of the dark fang and he was at will to dole it out.
saying cautious words to sister and brother. reapplying the only salve he knew to make upon the many wounds of sun eater; often with brow slitted above darkening eyes, breathing hushed words of prayer.
and praying over the pale head of his nephew; future of the sun clan.