Phoenix Maplewood ii. "and i will translate you"

The shaman can feel eyes upon her. 

It is a developed sense - one she could never explain. Raised in the harsh environment of the Sami, with all of its cultural strictures, Elve had grown with an intuitive nature. She had always known when one of her adoptive Relatives entered the den, she could feel when Raikseiû's wrath was rising, she could sense when Laisse needed her. 

Still as stone, she remained with her back to the other. Sapphires were concealed by lids as she waited in trepidation. 

The sound of a branch snapping underfoot brought her eyes to opening, her paws to whirling and her heart to pounding. Wide-eyed, the Medicine Woman faced her would be attacker.

And found a most strange man. 

He was huge - towering easily over the tiny half-breed and outweighing her by well over a hundred pounds. Elve gaped, realizing that her head barely reached the centre of his chest. 

He was covered in blood, reeked of gore. Such a wraith - with his otherworldly eyes, eyes as pale as winter sky - sent her heart leaping into her throat. 

Her head bowed out of instinct - tail curling against her stomach and long ears pinning to her small skull - in complete submission. 

"T'is woman greets you, war-torn," she murmured softly, tones wavering slightly with nerves. 

"Do you need help?" She inquired with a shy gesture towards his wounds.