Dawnlark Plains le'awtu

my fav boys

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The moondancer had not noticed Uktark's pause until she had heard the sound of his rough, hardly-used voice, speaking with a boy—a boy she knew, she realised. Quickly, she moved back through the snow, breath churning through her lungs with the swift rage of a bull protecting his herd.
I know this boy, she spoke once she approached. There was a warmth, an empathy that lingered within her body language as she moved. The woman gave him a warm nod of her head, situating herself closer to the boy than Uktark was. A friendly figure. To be trusted, as her shadowman had seemed not to make the best introduction. She looked to him carefully, casting a gaze that read 'we help him, too?' before turning back to the younger one.
You look for your brother, she hummed. Her tail flicked, so that it may gently brush against the man behind her. This, turned to him, now. Is Uktark Tartok, my man, a proud smile rose to her face. He quiet, but, very kind. You trust him as you trust me, if he trusted either of them at all. But, she extended kindness to this boy, nonetheless.
Not an obligation, but rather, a want.