Larksong Grotto ☾ tléix'

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The moondancer would not say anything in response to his name, aside from a light nod and a hum as she let the title engrave itself upon her memory, blazed within her mind in a bright light of remembrance. It was quickly that they came upon caribou carcass, and all so suddenly she realised just how much she truly hungered. Still, she wore calmness upon her figure.
Dísal'eix̲ looked to Uktark, eyes seeking permission from his stone face before turning her head to the carcass and dipping down, down, downwards so that she may consume. Gracious bites, she took, betraying the starvation that wrought her. Tail tucked low, relaxed, as if to appease the dominance that he held, but rather, in truth, a sign of the exhaustion that she felt. Travel had all but extracted her spirit, but it had also strengthened her resolve. Fortified her will for survival. She knew that, despite it all, she would continue to live.
So when she rose, she would seek his face once more, flicking her tongue to her lips and moving closer towards him. Drinking in the scents that he wore on his coat. He had known others, long ago. Others that were faint on his pelt. Others that she was ever curious of, though did not ask to know. Did not need to know. Rather, she turned away from him, flicking her tail across his own pelt and scenting the air. All was green within the grotto. She wondered what the outside looked like. Keen to know, to explore, to venture once more.
It was clear in the way she stood: moondancer was soon to leave, but if he so wished, she would not stop Uktark from following. A single sway of her tail served as a silent invitation, as clear as the moon at its' fullest.