Blacktail Deer Plateau ◊;

his ear twitched at the sound of her waking, the stir of breath quickening, the sharp echo of hunger rolling from the cave’s mouth like thunder trapped in stone.
he did not rise.
he stood just above, a silhouette carved from dusk and ice, wind whispering through the ends of his coarse fur, eyes fixed on the horizon as if the world might shift under his stare. she was still afraid. he could smell it. not raw like before—this was quieter. sharpened by need.
he did not look at her. only raised his chin and motioned once with his muzzle toward the carcass at the cave’s mouth. the blood still glistened in the fading light, dark and thick along the soil.
æt.
his voice, gravel-deep, steady in the old tongue.
eat.
he would not take it back.
he would not come closer.
he had given what he could. the rest was hers to accept or refuse.