Qeya River cause I wish you were here

backdated to 6th Jan, tags for ref or joining <3 can be RO if no biters

A long few days of resting her weary paws and warming her shivers had done wonders for the girl's spirit. She no longer missed home quite as much, nor did her mind go to Nutuyikruk, although the occasional quiet evening saw her gaze forlornly at the distant mountain silhouettes.

To take her mind off it all, the girl kept herself busy doing as she had promised. Twin caribou felled a day ago had been carved of meat, their hides skinned and now ready for the finishing touches. Yuralria crouched by the river, an antler bone clutched in her jaws as she scraped away any remaining flesh, switching it soon with the second pelt that lay submerged nearby.

Dragging the hide from the shallow currents proved to be a task in itself, but with a few hefty tugs, she was able to sling it over a low-hanging branch where a portion of the meat already hung to dry. Once satisfied the first was supple, she repeated the process again before returning to the river for a well-earned break.

She called for @Star Eater then, and for @Ice Diver once the sun dipped below the horizon. "Two days at least," she instructed, "or they will not dry properly." The dark woman she guessed was already experienced with pelt-making, but the war chief she was unsure. Either way, she implored them to use them as they wished, thanking them both for their hospitality, and asking them to teach the rest of the clan if they desired to learn. 

Yuralria would soon gather her share of the meat and ready herself to leave, for her restless nature invited her to move on.

star eater arrived with the steady gait of a woman accustomed to observing before speaking. the sharp scent of drying meat mingled with the cool river air, a testament to the girl’s diligence.
you’ve done well, star eater remarked, her voice even, though there was an approving gleam in her gaze. two days, you say? and what do you look for to know it’s ready? how do you keep it from spoiling? she stepped closer, brushing against the low-hanging branch to inspect the pelt's texture.
the chieftainess was a woman of many skills, but she was never above learning more. drying meats was a vital craft, especially with the long winters and scarce prey that loomed over their territory. her attention lingered on the girl as she spoke, a thoughtful hum leaving her lips.
you’ve earned your rest, but if you’ve more to teach, i’d love you to show me more. i’ll put it to good use. star eater’s tone was softer now, almost conspiratorial. she respected effort and knowledge.

Star Eater's presence was welcomed with an ear-splitting grin, grateful for her time spent in the woman's ulaq. While Ice Diver had remained more distant, the demeanour of the dark queen had reminded Yuralria wistfully of her sunshine people, for not many would be so inviting to a stranger. 

Her keenness to learn pleased the girl greatly, and she came to stand near her handiwork with a wave of her tail. "The pelt will feel leathery, and there should be no dampness to it." A paw outstretched patted the skin-side, motioning for Star Eater to do the same. "You'll know by touch when it's ready. Firm but not stiff, and able to bend without creasing much." For in that state of flexibility, it could be used for many purposes.

And as for the rest; "The meat shouldn't spoil so long as you turn it daily. Keep it in the shade - though it will take longer than the pelts." There was more to being a huntress than simply killing, and the girl was eager to share her family's craft with someone who listened.

"I'm glad you're such a willing student," eyes crinkled. She saw part of herself in the woman, and flicked her tail back to the river. "My grandmother taught me most of what I know, but I'm still learning." Her admittance accompanied a tilt of her head, gaze settling almost challengingly on Star Eater. "What would you like to know?"

she had been a queen once, had commanded warriors and shaped a home from nothing—but in this, she was a student. and she found she did not mind.
her paw pressed to the pelt at yuralria’s instruction, feeling the texture, the firmness. her ears twitched at the girl’s words, the careful instructions, the invitation to learn more.
thank you, she murmured, her voice quiet but sincere. this knowledge is a gift.
her gaze lifted, eyes meeting the younger woman’s own, and there was a flicker of something warm. admiration, perhaps. gratitude.
i would learn anything you are willing to teach. her lips quirked, amusement curling at the edges. but i think today, i would like to know what you would have wanted your grandmother to teach you.
she let the words settle between them, watching, waiting. willing to listen.

The woman moved with intrigue, with a sort of girlish fascination that Yura thought cut through her more intimidating features. Her host but more than that, her student, and her friend - she hoped at least. Though their time together had been short-lived, the sentiment was shared.

Knowledge was a gift that the girl was as eager to unwrap as she was deliver, for it could more easily be enjoyed in the company of another. Star Eater's question had her sit for a moment in thought, muzzle tilting skyward to where faint pinpricks of light had begun to blossom.

"She gave me a name when I was born," and though Yuralria was reluctant to speak it, she was comfortable to divulge it's meaning, in this vulnerability. "It means to look beyond the sky. To the stars maybe? I've never been sure what she truly meant by it." A far topic from pelt-making, but perhaps the woman had some knowledge of it. "But I've always wanted her to teach me more of what's out there."

star eater listened, her expression unreadable, but her gaze steady. she let the silence stretch for a moment before she spoke.
names carry weight, she mused, glancing up at the darkening sky. perhaps she saw something in you. something that reaches beyond what is known.
her tail flicked, thoughtful. beyond the sky. the concept was not foreign to her. she had spent much of her life looking up, wondering. in evenspire, she had been taught to watch the stars for guidance, for omens. now, she followed them in a different way.
do you believe in fate? she asked, turning her eyes back to yuralria.

Yuralria had expected an answer clean-cut and found her ears drooping child-like as Star Eater spoke in what she could only describe as cryptic riddles. "Maybe," her words held an edge of disappointment, swallowing thickly. What had Kukutux seen in her? Had her grandmother even seen anything at all? Perhaps, that was a question only Moonwoman could answer.

Her next question hung in the air between them like a fog on a misty morning. Fate. "I- I don't know." And truly, she had never dwelled on it before. As the cold seeped through her fur once more, she let her mind wander to Ariadne's death and all that come after. Nutuyikruk's disappearance, her journey north to find her. Had her life been scripted from the start? "Partially, I mean, I think that what happens to us is as much our own actions as it is fate itself."

It felt cruel to boil it down to some other-wordly red-string.

"Why? D'ya think that's what brought you here to Saatsine?"

perhaps. star eater's voice was thoughtful, distant, as if she were reaching for something just beyond her grasp. her gaze trailed over the horizon before settling on yura again.
i did not come here seeking fate. i ran. i ran until the ground changed beneath my feet, until the air smelled different, until there was nowhere else to go. she paused, shifting the bundle of herbs between her paws. but saatsine found me.
there was a certainty in that. a conviction she did not need to question.
perhaps it found you, too. she tilted her head slightly, studying the younger woman. or do you think it is only coincidence?

Star Eater remained thoughtful, distant though not dismissive. There were parallels here, between the taiga woman and her lost cousin that dredged up possibilities Yuralria did not want to imagine. 

Pity clouded curiosity of Star Eater's past as a realisation grew within her. Here, in Saatsine, in the comfort of their ulaqs - it was a cruel reminder of what she had left behind. Of what she must return to.

Coincidence. Maybe it was just that. A fleeting beat of a bird's wing blown off-course by the wind. "Perhaps I was meant to find you," she started, rising to her paws, "but I can't stay. I'm sorry, Star Eater, but I need to go home."

star eater listened, her face calm though her heart felt the ache of parting. she had found brief comfort in yura’s presence—like hearing a song half-remembered from childhood.
but the forest called her home, and star eater knew the pull of home was not one easily denied.
she rose to her paws, brushing briefly against yura’s side in quiet farewell. perhaps you were, she murmured. perhaps we will meet again, under kinder skies.
a pause, then softer: may the spirits guide you back.
she watched yura go, until the snow and trees swallowed her figure, before turning back toward her own den—toward sun eater, toward her children, toward the life she had chosen to build anew.

fade?

The brush of dark fur against light was enough for Yura's heart to steel. The longer she remained here, the more her spirit would soften to their ways, perhaps for good. 

"I'll visit," she promised, an air of finality in her voice as she finished gathering her things. "May Sedna watch over you and your clan."

And truly, she wished them well. If their paths crossed again, the stargirl would welcome the opportunity.