Shadewood tusk dawn

AW but @Daa'ka

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the hide was folded with care.
stitched along the edges with sinew from the last kill, scraped clean and softened between her teeth, talvani had worked through the night beneath a thin sliver of moon, breath misting over fur as she pressed each corner flat. it wasn’t large—caribou, not deer—but strong. warm. enough to serve a man in spring chills, even one as broad as daa’ka.
she did not speak of it.
kusax̱asaa had not asked her to go. had not looked her way in days, not since the last words hung heavy between them like a storm refusing to break. but talvani knew duty. knew gratitude. and his brother—silent and watchful—had been kind in the way men of the north could be. she remembered that.
so she moved now through the brush, careful as shadow, soundless as the thin wind that stirred the spring-soft grasses. no words on her tongue. no call. she would find him. and she would place the hide before him with no boast, no claim.
just offering.
as quiet as she was.
as sure.