Ghost Lion Crag Not even giving in to the sudden rain

Kimik had wandered ahead of her brother, leaving him to catch up with her as they moved inward. The whale had been of mild interest to the female but no more than that; they had somewhere to be and she had every intent to get them there. When Tiriarnaq lagged behind for whatever reason, the dark-pelted Northerner had a habit of taking point in their travels.

The route that had led them south had been profitable so far, providing them a meal here and there and a general lack of anything dangerous. Not that she'd have minded the danger but she had a purpose right now. They both did. Find their kin and establish a branch.

She moved over stone now, the surface warm under her paws as she sought those she would recognize as family when they came together. Her pace was slow, methodical, and it was only when she caught a fairly familiar scent that Kimik's course adjusted in both direction and speed.

She followed it, moving tirelessly until she finally caught sight of another wolf. Ears pitched forward, Kimik issued a soft whuff, aiming to grab the attention of the other.