Dawnlark Plains you're a poem of mystery,

lyrics taken from requiem on water · imperial mammoth

and she would not stop moving. the blood of snowpelt and waterdiver peoples coursed within her, powering a small body to be an unstoppable force. and although she did not appear to be much of anything at all, she had tackled her fair share of caribou and thick-skulled oafs alike. kurauviatu man came to mind. and so she would walk in search of a husband and a better life. with high standards but careful expectations, as she knew...

...one should not get too cocky.

thick sheet of white laid upon the ground, now. woman found herself murmuring, humming a small tune: sukkaittumik, aujakkut tasikkut aujakkut, tukiliarluni qitianut, seemingly motivated by her trek through what could be thought of as a lake of snow. paws sunk deep into the soft falling of wintertime. taaqtuanguniqpaamik imarmik, nani iqiasugunnarmangaatta. she had always thought of it as a love song.

itinngajut qaanganiittut, rala kept singing as she walked, her paws moving in rythmn with her voice, now. carefully plucking notes from her throat, singing a song her aunts had sung. one that, when younger, she had thought to be of affection. but her perception of it seemed to slowly change as she continued: takunnaqtut qummuattitausimajunik, inuusiqarunniiqtunik, marruliarisimajattinnik ataani. a frown upon pale features.

but the next line would come to her with song-singers ease. ammalu taliit niutitillu ataaniikkaluaqtillugit, nagligusungniq siutinni tusaqsauniaqpuq, tamarmik jagaijausimaliqtillugit tilligausimaliqtillugillu, perhaps she had been right in her first estimation. this song, from the words that rolled of her tongue, was that of love. and so she smiled, now. her feet paused as she assessed her surroundings, careful.

nalligijara suli taikaniinniaqtuq. the melody would leave her maw. she stood, here, on the plains. surveying, watching for any sign of movement, any deer or caribou or rabbit ; a morsel, a meal. tail swayed back and forth, black nose drew in scents.

the hare dangled limp in faust's maw, its warmth seeping through its fur to his teeth. it had been an easy kill, one of many he’d snared in recent days for ayovi. a fat wife was a happy wife—or so he convinced himself as he made his way back toward the makeshift den.

but then, a whisper of scent curled through the crisp air, foreign and enticing. it carried with it the musk of winter and something distinctly feminine. he halted mid-step, ears swiveling toward the distant melody that followed. a voice—soft, rhythmic, with a cadence that stirred something restless in him.

faust lowered the hare to the snow, nostrils flaring as he tested the breeze. it wasn’t ayovi’s scent. no, this one was unfamiliar, laced with the peculiar allure of the unknown. he moved toward it instinctively, broad paws crunching through the snow, his head lifting to scan the expanse.

and then, he saw her.

she was small, but there was nothing fragile in her movements. her paws wove a rhythm with her song, sinking deep into the snow but never faltering. her pale coat blended with the frosted landscape, her dark nose cutting a sharp contrast. faust stopped a short distance away, his emerald gaze narrowing as he tried to make sense of the words spilling effortlessly from her tongue.

it wasn’t a language he understood, but there was a familiarity in its music. similar, yet strange. a shared root, perhaps, branching off into a dialect he couldn’t decipher. still, the intent in her voice—soft and persistent—needed no translation.

he let out a low chuff, testing her attention, his chest rumbling with the deep timbre of his voice: who you?

the words left him in athabaskan, a tongue she might grasp if luck favored them both. his gaze lingered on her, assessing, guarded but curious, the hare forgotten behind him in the snow.

rabbit scent came towards her, now, followed by the blood-smell of a kill. rala's ears rose, then, searching for the sound of snow crunching underfoot, for she became innately, instinctively aware that she was no longer alone. fur stood on end, as if slowly puffing up to make the polar-cub appear larger. melody lost to the wind.

words met her ears, then, and she turned in a simple, quick movement, albeit not without a moment of hesitation. words she did not know, though vaguely familiar, near, now, in presence, though far away in memory, as if heard in passing. it was in common that she would speak, for if this man knew the tongue of her song, he would have spoken it. i do not speak your words, she would murmur, ultimately deciding to draw closer.

snow-dipped paws were careful upon the crunching carpet, navigating with a learnt ease. she approached somewhat tentatively, however. although not shy, she did not know this man, nor the scent of a stranger that stuck to his pelt like burrs. for she, too, was guarded, and although she did not have all that much to lose, she still had her life.

his pelt reminded her of a distant past ; of kurauviatu man. she assessed his dark hairs with care, though the blonde and cream hues that painted his sizeable body - of which she studied with little shame - gave her a sense of relief. that, and the confidence that exuded from the way in which he stood. this man was not a coward, that much she knew to be true. well-worn, she thought. pale eyes would flicker to his own, curious.

you are from around here, aallajuq? a hum accompanied her words.

faust’s green eyes narrowed as he observed her approach, the deliberate crunch of snow under her paws betraying her caution. she was pale, a creature of frost and shadow, her fur almost glowing against the stark backdrop of winter. yet, her hesitance, the slight puff of her coat as if to appear larger, betrayed her uncertainty. he tilted his head, watching her with a mix of curiosity and scrutiny.

no, he said plainly, his voice low, edged with a roughness born from weariness. his words were simple but carried the weight of a man who rarely spoke without purpose.

she carried the scent of unfamiliar lands, a note of something distant, almost foreign. faust considered this as he adjusted his stance, allowing the rabbit carcass to shift slightly where it hung from his jaws. her voice, melodic yet tinged with something akin to steel, stirred an old memory—faint, distant, like a whisper carried on the wind.

why pretty girl alone, snow-dweller? he asked after a pause, his tone neither welcoming nor hostile. his gaze lingered on her, studying the way she held herself, her cautious steps. a predator, but not an immediate threat. not yet.

his words were clearly not given lightly, without intention. throat, rough, as a simple 'no' came choking out from it, as if wrapped in thorns. part of the girl, perhaps naive, found herself ever curious. as she was with everything. all within the world was something to learn, something to see, and so she would include this man. he seemed polite enough...

'pretty girl'? browbone raised for a beat, as if unused to such a saying, but rala would answer in quick confidence: i travel south in search of a place to start a family, the words, honest, gliding from her lips with purpose. intent. she knew where she was within the world, and she knew what she wanted to deliver to it. though small, her stance was firm, as if even the harshest snowstorms could not throw her, could not topple her.

and you? why are you here? carefully, she would ebb closer.

faust watched her as she spoke, the rounded curves of her form and the surety in her words painting an image he could almost admire. almost. she was soft, as a wife should be, yet her confidence struck a note he hadn’t expected. it was enough to keep him rooted for the moment.

his grimace deepened before he let out a quiet huff, dropping the hare at his paws as if casting aside something trivial. his sharp, green eyes narrowed as he closed the gap between them, his movement deliberate but without haste. he pressed his nose into the warmth of her neck, inhaling deeply as though memorizing her scent, carving it into his mind.

i look for same, he muttered, his voice low and rough, each word a clipped syllable that seemed reluctant to leave his mouth. his gaze drifted northward, past her, toward the expanse of land that stretched endlessly before him.

but i go north. he pulled back slightly, his head tilting as his gaze met hers again. as far as stars take me.

the words hung between them, his path clearly drawn, but his tone carried the faintest hint of something else—a question, or perhaps an invitation, unspoken but there.

the woman sealed her maw tightly shut as he seemed to race towards her, burying his nose within her thick, pale fur. should she have not kept herself quiet, she may have let out a squeak of shock - because, why should she not! his paws were quick, deliberate, when he sunk his muzzle into her neck, drawing in her smell that surely carried that of the grounds she had been born within. a shared notion for family-building flickered within her mind, and so she would push aside the odd behaviour ... for now.

the stars guided you, rala assessed, thinking. while they surely had aided in her travel, it was not the stars themselves that she followed. rather, the warmth, the raised earth and the higher elevations. it reminded her of the hardly-warmer summers up in the northern arctic, when they moved from their whelping den to the tall grasses. i follow warmth. safer for my children, in that way, where the cruelties of the wintertime could not reach them, in the same way it had wrought her and her peoples.

and so his wordless invitation would go declined, but a faint curiosity would continue to glimmer behind eyes that seemed to mirror the cold dawns she had grown up with. a question would be asked, then, and she only hoped that he would stay long enough to answer: what is your name? and, should he stick around, she would inquire as to the scent upon his pelt - the one that seemed thick upon his dark hairs. a woman.

faust didn’t flinch at her hesitation. her silence didn’t bother him, nor did the faint tension in her frame as he leaned in closer. his nose brushed lightly against the pale fur of her forehead, settling where the faint starburst of her marking glimmered in the soft light.

star girl, he murmured, the name slipping from his lips like it had been waiting for this moment, drawn from the depths of his imagination to suit her perfectly. his gaze met hers as he pulled back, the sharp green of his eyes softened by a fleeting trace of approval.

faust, he answered plainly, the name weighted but unpretentious. it was a statement of fact, nothing more, but the way he held himself made it clear there was no room for anything less.

his gaze shifted northward, toward the towering peaks in the distance. my children, forged on summits. born where cold bites deepest, where only strong survive. his voice carried the weight of conviction, each word deliberate, spoken with the same purpose that drove his every step.

awarded with grass for winters they endure, he continued, his nose flaring slightly as he scented the air. they will know strength before breath.

his attention returned to her, lingering on the faint curiosity in her gaze. he noticed how her eyes flicked to him, seeking something more. if she wanted answers, he would give them, but only if she proved herself worthy of his time.

and there was an understanding that shone from her very core, now. faust, she echoed, as if it were faint and fleeting on the winds, although it stood tall, like an obelisk, like the dark-man stood now. he had called her 'star girl', and so she would return to him a name of her own: you ... taaqtuq angut, a name that whispered of strength.

in her lands, distant and weeks-worth of travel north, the mountains and their summits had been claimed for generations by crowfeather-wolves. known for their dark pelts and their affiliation with the carrion-eaters that they were named for. something about this man, then, vaguely reminded her of them. of the man she once was to wed. winter is a cruel teacher, she would say - a learnt notion. one that had to be experienced.

you speak like ataata, like chief, and rala found herself smiling, though not towards him - instead, at a distant memory, one that was filled with light, with laughter. the summer months had been kind one year. no longer. but with room for dry humour, she would speak again: it is partly ... intimidating, dawn-hues searching his. golden.

you seek to build something bigger, do you not? he seemed to have ambitions.

faust stood still, the weight of her words settling around him like fresh snow. the name she offered—taaqtuq angut—rolled through his mind. he didn’t ask for its meaning, yet he nodded as though he already understood. his gaze lingered on her for a beat, considering.

i am chief, he confirmed simply, the words low, measured, carrying their own gravity. she could shift it, only if she had reigned him in further. faust was not a man of pleasantries, just of mere pleasure. 

he shifted his stance, the sharp lines of his frame cutting against the winter's pallor. do i scare you, star girl? his voice lacked its usual sharpness, the question posed with a mix of curiosity and intrigue, his head tilting just slightly.

he had seen strength before, but hers intrigued him—quiet, steady, like the unyielding grip of ice on stone. she was no ordinary wolf. as her smile flickered at the edges of her lips, his own expression remained inscrutable.

you are right, he said after a pause, his tone deepening. i do seek to build. stronger than before. bigger than the mountains themselves. but to build… you need wolves who do not tremble in the cold.

his gaze narrowed faintly, studying her again as if the answer to his unspoken question lay in her steady composure. he thought of @Ayovi; how certainly rugged she'd been against the stones. forged in the plains, he'd assume of her, but of the mountains he could make her. just like the crested star girl. 

tag for mention

scare? no, rala shook her head, then, gathering her thoughts for a mere moment, perhaps two, before the words would leave her mouth: you remind me ... she begun. of two men i knew. my father, and a man who was told to court me to form ... alliances, the search for the correct common-word was a careful process. she did not wish to misstep, to explain using the wrong phrases. further, then, she would go.

you lead, like my father. chief. spoken only with purpose. and you are dark, like man of courtship. it is strange, seeing chief spirit in dark body, though her smile, the glint within her eyes spoke of something else. a faint curiosity. an edge that spoke of reluctance, and yet a continued wish to draw the man further in - or to perhaps take the dive that he was waiting for. she thought she saw something expectant within gilded eyes - or perhaps she was wrong. merely the gaze of a leader.

wolves who do not tremble in the cold? you ... snowwoman begun, the lilting rolls of a soft laughter spilling from her dark lips. ... would have enjoyed a place amongst the ox hunters, and she said this with a certainty, knowing that he, faust, in this very moment, seemed like he would have sought more power than what he could ever have had within her lineage. and yet it fascinated her anyway, thinking of him and his dark, strong figure upon the open plains.

betwixt the ocean and the mountains, paws within the snow.

you have someone in mind, she noted, then, watching the way his eyes seemed to betray his thoughts. is it the woman, thick upon your pelt? an almost teasing smile.

faust tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of a tsk slipping past his lips. ox, caribou, bison—he had hunted them all, his prowess proven time and time again. her mention of his suitability among the ox hunters sparked a flicker of pride, though he did not voice it.

hunting is one thing, he muttered, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. his golden eyes remained steady on her, assessing, curious. he wondered if she could see the history in his gaze—the weight of a past that lingered too close, even now.

at her mention of the scent clinging to him, a grimace twitched across his features. ayovi. iskava woman. her scent had become a familiar nuisance, stirring something raw and uncontrollable within him, something that danced on the edge of madness. his teeth bared faintly in response, a reflexive display of irritation he did not fully control.

you’re perceptive, star girl, he admitted with a low chuckle, though the sound carried a certain sharpness. the name he had given her rolled off his tongue as if it were her birthright. she had a way of cutting to the core of things, and faust found himself both amused and annoyed by it.

toshalla's name threatened to surface, unbidden, and his jaw tightened. the thought of her—of betrayal, of loss—made his stomach churn. a courter? once, perhaps. a good one. but not since her. the past had a cruel way of lingering, though he knew better than to let it rule him.

who i have in mind is no concern, he finally said, his tone neutral but edged. yet, even as he spoke, his gaze lingered on her, as if weighing something unspoken. she was a puzzle, a mixture of strength and grace, curiosity and restraint. wolves like her didn’t come along often. you have not given me name.

what could have been a moment of pride quickly seemed to turn sour as she took a misstep with her words. she could see it, though ; churning within him, something that he did not fully control within himself. an irritation at the spoken words of the scent amongst his pelt, then a tightening jaw, something that seemed hinted at his past.

silence followed her, now, until he asked her of her name. nanuralaaq. that is my name, she answered. her name carried a weight, similar to his own. without ego, though not devoid of pride. she had earned a title, survived the harsh winters, and, known as the cub of the polar bear, she would forge her way through these lands with the intent of continuing her lineage. to keep her children safe. a mothers' only wish.

she would not offer the vulnerability of 'rala'. he had bestowed her with the title of 'star girl', and so that is what the dark-man would know her by. snowwoman would be a fool to look past the danger that this man carried, the threat that he sauntered with. raw strength, a shadow within his eyes that she would not dismiss. and although he lacked hostility in conversation, she had seen before how quickly things can worsen.

what the huntress would offer, though, was the names meaning.

i am called 'cub of polar bear', curious, searching for his opinion within gold eyes.

faust’s sharp green eyes flicked over her as her name left her lips, the weight of it sinking into the cold air between them. a name with purpose, earned, not given lightly. he was silent for a beat, digesting her words, before a short, low laugh broke from his chest.

you do look like baby polar bear, he said, the faintest trace of humor curling his lips. his gaze softened just slightly, though it didn’t lose its edge. there was something disarming about her, even as she held herself with the pride of one who had seen much and endured more.

his nose twitched, drawing in the scent of the snow-laden air and the faint aroma of her presence. nanuralaaq, he repeated, testing the weight of it on his tongue. it suited her, this pale creature standing resilient against the winter winds. she might have been carved from the same frozen landscape that had shaped him. it was easy for him, too, and it rolled off fluently. 

don't want star girl to go. he confessed, though it was rather brutish. but ayovi waited. faust took a step back, grabbing the hare. but i must.

a smile of her own traced her dark lips when he confirmed the similarity. my name - it sounds good on your tongue, he had been the first, rala thought, so say it the same way she did ; with pride, with purpose, with a knowing that only those of the harshest winters could possibly comprehend. a sense of kinship.

one day i will seek you out, taaqtuq angut, and i will see what you have built, it was with warmth that her words left her maw. she gave one last nod, gazing at him with a distant approval within her eyes, before she would turn away, delicate pawsteps moving with purpose through the snowy plains. careful, precise in her trek.

exit rala <3 i need another thread sometime !!