Bitterroot Valley dalnum

Bloody paw pointed at her chest, he understood now. He understood what her solemn word meant, and even when she first spoke it, could not explain it. They are pack animals. Being alone meant death.
Yet here they are, standing with one another. Alive, very much so. With her lording figure and gleaming emeralds, alive. He let go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
Wáni, he affirmed for her, mimicking the point at herself, instead a bloodied white paw at his own chest.
It was a vulnerability to admit such: to be by oneself.
He gestured between them, then, Tuka-vaa?