A single eye would open every once in awhile and when all was said and done, she roused herself slowly with a groan from the ground. It looked good. This slave was not a fool, he learned quick, despite how foolish he had been when they met. A foolishness which cost lives. Now he helped in the bringing of new lives.
Good. She now said the word allowed, making heavy steps past Aiman and into the den opening. It would be fitted with the remnants of caribou in time - pelts, hooves, antler, claw. For now, it was a den built by a slave, but it would do.

"speaking common" - "speaking lanzadoii"






