Larksong Grotto echoes of the past

happy new year!! <3
I love yesfir so much already

Steam hissed from a rugged muzzle as the pale figure began to move. She did not rise with the heavy effort of a tired hunter, but with a fluid, haunting ease that seemed wrong for the freezing terrain. A slow, heavy blink filtered through sulfurous eyes as the Northman watched her. Irritation gathered in his chest. To his eyes, she was a creature made of the very snow she sat in, yet she clung to a piece of dead bone with the grip of a starving animal.
[indent[The caribou antlers caught in the frozen crust as she tried to tow the weight. It left a jagged furrow in the white ground, a slow and useless trail. A low, vibrating huff rattled the dried blood matted into the black fur of his chest. This skull was not a tool. It carried no scent of a pack or a pup, and it offered no warmth. It was baggage that cost her the heat of her own body to move.
One massive, mud-stained paw came down. The weight of his heavy frame crushed the snow, pinning the antlers deep into the frozen earth and stopping the movement instantly. He did not snarl or show his teeth; he saw how thin her limbs were compared to his own. Using force on her would be like striking a hollow reed. He remained a solid barrier of matted hair and old grease, blocking her path and holding the bone in place.
„Bein er þungt. Slepptu,” he rasped, blunt words that lacked any softness. He stared at the top of her head, waiting for the command to sink in. The cold was still biting at his joints, and his patience for the glass daughter was gone.