Dawnlark Plains ☾ déix̲

uktark moved behind her in a silence that did not soften, only shifted. the quiet of a shadow keeping pace with its source. his paws sank deep into the snow, heavy where hers were light, but he left no hesitation in his wake. wherever she turned, he adjusted. wherever she pressed forward, he followed, a dark constant threaded through the white expanse.
when her head lifted to scent the deer, he watched the lift of her shoulders, the hum that rippled through her. he did not close the distance, but neither did he drift far. his presence was a taut line drawn between them. unspoken, unbreakable.
each time she drifted ahead, carving purpose through the drifts, he slid along her flank’s blind spot, adjusting to keep her framed within his sight. he absorbed the cold, the wind, the muted crush of winter, taking the brunt of it so she would not.
she veered west. he shifted with her.
she stretched out her stride. he lengthened his own.
she wanted space. he gave it. but never enough to lose her.
her glance over her shoulder met him every time:
a sentinel built of glacier and bone.