A strange and long name he found he would have trouble saying. He decided he would not ever bother to say it, then.

Her emerald eyes are fleeting, dashing to learn the expression on his face before falling to his feet. She knew how to please a caribou man. Cen had taught her well. Yaalk'ali.

Striking, he had decided she was. Where she was not pale as bright new snow on a clear sunny day, then she held the color of the sun itself, cloaked over the new snow below. Yaalk'ali felt it was likely so that Cen, as his slave, would already have plans for her. Surely being Yaalk'ali's little play thing was not it.

Come. Why don't you lay with me awhile? He spoke as he pat the ground with his tail.