Whitebark Stream mathron

she watched him work, and there was something quiet in her. reverence. for the hunt, for the labor, for the beast that gave its last breath to their survival. a valiant sacrifice.

her ears twitched once, slow, then stilled. “good.” simple, resolute. she would not disturb the rite with needless noise.

instead, she sank to her haunches. she would rest here while he stripped the hide, while blood warmed the snow and when it was done, she would walk home with him.

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