Things were becoming tough, and their trek had only just ended.Their first hunt had been mildly successful and the caches were still loaded with the meat of a mountain goat and her young; but since then, the pack had not been so fortunate. There had been a bear in the western portion of the pack lands - just barely over their border, in fact - but a bear was not a safe meal. It had been adept enough to bring down a roaming fawn and Njal, ever the optimist these days, hoped that the pack could collectively drive the beast away and gather the spoils. No such luck, unfortunately. So, the pack was fed - but not overly fed. The children had some new playthings (a goat hoof for Jokull and Valtyr to wrestle over) but that would only keep them occupied for a short time.
The only other thing on the Alpha's mind were the worrying reports of lynx in the area. Tuwawi had mentioned the lone male before they had departed Swiftcurrent, and Njal had been foolish enough to believe the brief intervention by his wife and her co-conspirator would have driven it away. But recently he'd been finding scat in very obvious places, as if the tom was baiting the wolves that lay claim to the twin peaks. If there was a single cat in the vicinity of the glacier, they would be able to deal with that - but if there were more...
The gray beast sighed a fretful, deep sound. His habit of checking the borders would have to ease now that they were settled. Njal had to adapt to the role of a leader now if the family was to survive. It was hard to pass up the opportunity to get his own paws dirty though; even if he had one hundred lives to spare for a task, it only felt right if he was doing it himself.
He was the very man whom she sought, and the keen quiver of her small muzzle followed the trail of Njal's scent to where he lingered, lost in thought. The cat still lurked upon the glacier, perhaps too angered by their sudden arrival to be rousted; felines were prideful things. But the children — for that was the heart of Duskfire — would not fare well against the advance of tooth and claw.
Truthfully, the continued existence of the pestilence was an affront to Hatshepsut. Her gilded form arrived near Njal and she approached him with deference, but a confidence remained in her step that was not easily curbed. She was Regent, here in name only, but the title was the last vestige of Karnak she had left to her, and the bantam wolf would not part with it easily. "Njal," the woman greeted softly. "How do you fare?"
Njal, A voice shot through the air and the man turned his head sharply, hearing the summons and being spooked back to the area directly around him. He noticed the golden woman instantly and relaxed, although... It was disconcerting to the Alpha that he hadn't heard her approach. She was slight of build though, and that probably accounted for Hatshepsut being light on her feet; not to mention the many things that plagued his own mind.
How do you fare? She asked next, and Njal breathed a sigh - it sounded stern, whistling from between clenched teeth.
But he didn't answer initially. The man's brain filtered what was necessary for the conversation at hand, leaving him appearing distracted before the diminutive figure. When he finally did speak, Njal didn't know where to start. I'm... Well, there's a few things on my mind, but... Another sigh. Ugh, he just needed to deal with these things one at a time and everything would be fine. I'm alright. Have you had any further dealings with the lynx?
Someone had mentioned the lynx at some point. Maybe it had been Hatshepsut - maybe it was Danica, or someone else - but Njal couldn't remember. He turned a brief look up toward the glacier, and then flicked his warm gaze across the female's silhouette idly; his ears pricking forward, but then twisting at a subtle sound in the distance. He was addled, and obviously stressed.
Her leader was perturbed, and rightfully so — the lynx's close presence was a constant threat to his children, and to their food supply, quickly growing precious as the days turned colder. And so she halted a few paces from the rugged Sveijarn, and searched the horizon with her gaze, the air with her nostrils.
In silence she stood alongside him, lips parting only to answer Njal's question: "Once. Danica and I followed it into the wood, but the pestilence evaded us." Her eyes turned upon him presently. "Surely the brute has a den somewhere. If we were able to locate the place, and slaughter his progeny, he would have no reason to stay upon the glacier." Her voice was quiet, suggestive; perhaps the man would mull her idea over in his head.
In time, Njal rejoined, and Hatshepsut spent several minutes outlining a few of her grander schemes for the capture of the cat.