Firefly Glen ᐊ qimmiq

the compliment slid off her like snow from stone— a small scoff pressed through her nose, the faintest shake of her thick ruff. beautiful eyes. hm. men always reached for poetry when they ran out of sense.

before she could remark upon it, the glen shifted. a familiar tread, sure as tide pulling at an anchored boat, came sweeping through the brush.

her head lifted at once. her mismatched eyes brightened.

tóangun, she breathed, spoken with warmth rare and unhidden.

arrluk’s presence filled the clearing like the rising moon, all steady weight and surety, blood of the hunt drying upon the white of his throat. ippiksaut stepped toward him, brushing her shoulder to his briefly in greeting, a gesture both respectful and fond.

i come for the hunt, she answered, voice warmed. and with good news — raindrop’s little ones thrive beneath her belly. a beam lit her features, a quicksilver gleam of joy. 

then she turned, guiding the vast shadow of the red male into arrluk’s view.

this is red wrath, she said, her tone returning to its measured cadence. a traveler who stepped upon our land with peace in his chest. he helped with the curing work, and now i would see how his teeth fare on the hunt.

she tilted her chin toward the lavender-scented hides resting nearby. if he proves himself, i will take pelts back for the ulaq.