Sunset Valley swison

when the man turned, surveying one of the animals, heda caught sight of a line along his mouth. but the trio were at too great a distance for her to see what it actually might be.
remembering how steady issoratuyok seemed always to be, how mahler chose each word, the girl chuffed to her sister and to mireille. the war-child descended into the valley, marvelling at how odd and different the taiga felt underpaw.
the thundering of hoofbeats grew. heda's mouth gaped for a moment. caribou galloped and whirled and snorted and stamped, throwing up a thin mist of snow. she could taste the color of their pelts.
the man was ahead of her, testing the herd.
"hello! i'm —" her words were drowned out, and so she only mutely pressed to the wolf's flank. "we want to help!" she volunteered in a shout, all three of them offered to this hunt.
heda had not even checked to make sure that druid and mireille had followed.