Whitebark Stream run wild

The dark woman is the first to speak and she watches her for a moment. Pack? is the gist of what she understands and carefully, Shivali nods her head. Many scents carry over from the other and she assumes the same of the other. “Ikkanattuk,” she answers, lifting her head a little. She turns her nose toward the peak in the distance behind her before her attentions return to the stranger. “I am Shivali,” she says thick accented and clunky. With a raise of her brow and dip of her nose, she returns the question: you?